Waylaid By The Yankees

  Okay, when it comes to sports, specifically the teams I root for, I am not too good at keeping promises. Example #1 would be the New York Yankees.

In my last blog, I stated rather emphatically that I would not watch the team spiraling out of control. The constant losing was eating me up.

When the Yankees ended up losing the home finale against the Boston Red 

Sox, I didn’t watch. Nor did I tune in to see how the team was doing against the Rays in St. Petersburg. 

I did receive social media updates through CBS Sports, ESPN and The Athletic. I knew what was happening in near real time. Which didn’t make me any happier, as the Yankees lost another series—now 8 in a row. 

Yet somehow, when the Baltimore Orioles went on a losing skid of their own—being demolished by the Chicago Cubs in Camden Yards by a cumulative score of 21-2, with the games on Wednesday and Thursday being shutouts for the Cubs’ pitchers, Baltimore Manager Brandon Hyde was very unhappy with the effort of his team and let the Chicago and Baltimore media know it. You would believe that his guys would be hungry for some red meat.

So who comes into town but the Yankees. Two teams playing subpar baseball. The top two squads in the AL East, separated by only 2 games as they headed into the final series before the All Star Game. 

To say that these teams do not like each other is an understatement. A lot of it has to do with batters getting hit by pitches. Eleven O’s hitters have been plunked, including star shortstop Gunnar Henderson multiple times. 

Conversely, three Yankees have been hit by Baltimore pitching. The most notorious HBP was when Yankees supernova Aaron Judge was struck on the hand and Yankees fans held their collective breath for a day until the tests came back clean. 

I don’t know if the Orioles pitchers were instructed to pitch inside on Judge or even hit him. Whatever the reason, the Yankees weren’t happy about it.

Opening the three game series for New York was ace Gerrit Cole, still trying to return to his Cy Young Award form of last season. His recent pitching had been encouraging. Given the malaise of the NYY starting pitchers, it seemed that if the Yankees were going to try to right the ship, Cole had to be on top of his game or close to it. Provided the NYY bats would awaken enough and the Orioles would remain in their funk. 

Maybe I haven’t quite given up on my childhood team despite all indications that this ongoing drought might last the remainder of the season without dramatic changes such as trades or a renaissance by DJ LeMahieu, Gleybar Torres and Anthony Volpe, among others. Yankees skipper Aaron Boone has shaken up the lineup repeatedly in effort to awaken the lethargic Yankees bats for more than one game in a series. To no avail. 

Perhaps it was the humidity and heat which caused my brain to seek comfort on television. For in my childhood, watching a hot summer’s night game on our black and white TV in our den, with my father turning on the industrial-size fan and eating cherries, plums and watermelon, that was my nirvana. 

Back then it was Mantle, Berra, Ford, Howard and Maris donning the Yankees uniform. Bona fide stars who would always be in the thick of the game. 

Whether it was Detroit, Cleveland, Kansas City, Washington, Baltimore, Boston or the Chicago White Sox, the game was going to be good. I knew much about the players from watching and reading the papers. 

Maybe it was listening to Mel Allen and Phil Rizzuto wax poetically (or in The Scooter’s case in sometimes mangled English) which drew me in. Or perhaps the sugary fruit had something to do with my mindset. Who knows?

In any case, I made the decision to turn on the YES Network for the telecast. I went into the game with some hope—probably more false optimism than anything else. My mind was made up—I was going to watch the Yankees and Orioles sweat on a hot and humid Friday night by the Inner Harbor with a significant threat of rain in the forecast. 

The Yankees didn’t disappoint me on this night as they wore their perspiration-soaked grey road uniforms and the O’s went with black City Connect jerseys. It was not a sterling effort by New York—the team did enough to hold off the Orioles while scoring four runs to secure the win. 

Cole was not yet at his vintage best, although with a strike out in the game he passed Vida Blue for 67th place all-time. But his six innings kept Baltimore subdued; Cole threw 75 strikes out of 106 pitches while striking out seven and walking just one. 

The bullpen’s best held the Orioles lineup to one hit in the remaining three innings. New York managed seven hits, which included two doubles by catcher Jose Trevino (who hurt his quadriceps running home in the ninth inning and. Is now on the 10 day IL) and a bomb home run from Judge which landed way beyond the high wall in left field. 

What would have been a nice win for the Yankees, placing them only a game behind the Orioles despite the nearly incessant losing, was marred by one incident. One pitch which might change the dynamic of the remainder of the series.

Boone brought in his All Star closer, Clay Holmes, to pitch the ninth inning. It was a save situation and that is the norm for New York. 

Remember that threat of rain? It was raining pretty good by the time the Orioles came to bat for the final time. Holmes, who can make his save chances interesting and sometimes take away a win with a lackluster performance, threw 20 pitches in attaining his 21st save. One of those eight non-strikes is what this game will be remembered for. 

That one errant pitch struck Orioles left fielder Heston Kjerstad in the left ear flap of his batting helmet. With what players said was sickening sound, Kjerstad went down to the ground, not moving for a bit. 

Yankees catcher Austin Wells, into the game to replace the injured Trevino, went to see how Kjerstad was. Holmes was concerned. Kjerstad went his feet and was administered a battery of tests by the Baltimore trainer. Hyde was nearby. 

The decision was made to remove Kjerstad from the game. It was the obvious and correct move. 

Hyde was not happy that Holmes’ pitch hit his player where it did—even if the rain likely contributed to the errant toss. His anger was evident and the manager started to exchange words with a member of the Yankees coaching staff after he had choice remarks for Holmes. Wells tried to restrain Hyde, but couldn’t.  A full-scale scrum evolved, with tensions from previous hit batsmen overflowing with shoves and possibly a few punches tossed. Aaron Judge was in the midst of the fracas, trying to restore order. Trevino somehow made it back to field in support of his pitcher. Both managers barked at each other. 

Order was restored. Hyde was ejected. The Yankees won a very needed game.

The bigger question remains what will be the fallout from this latest episode between teams which do not at all like each other. Will there be more fireworks, or will just baseball be played? Will O’s pitchers become myrmidons of Hyde, seeking revenge for what happened on a steamy Friday night in Baltimore: “A Great Place To Grow” according to former Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake?

I had every intention about discussing Caitlin Clark’s triple double and her streak of double doubles. Or Bronny James’ debut in the NBA. How about this year’s United States men’s basketball squad going through its practices for the upcoming Olympics? Even Tuesday’s All Star Game and the Home Run Derby. All good topics.

Instead, of my own accord, I was once more waylaid by Yankees baseball. By the inner child in me.