I Don't Know What I was Thinking
A Friend of Mr. Glass' here, filling in for Sippy Momo. Mostly the same format as old SipMo usually goes for, but I won't make comparisons between Yankee fans and Nazis. Anyway, vaya con dios should be back tomorrow, in the meantime, let this blog's answer to Doug Mientkiewicz see you through.
Like many other Mets fans, few things rile me more than talk about Yankee Magic. For a fan born in the early 1980s, the mystique of the pinstripes was essentially unknown until the mid-to-late 1990s, when the Yankees emerged from their long and longed-for slumber to win the 1996 World Series over the equally loathsome Atlanta Braves.
Was it Yankee magic that carried the Bombers to their first championship since 1978? Of course not; a team that goes 18 years without a World Series appearance can hardly lay claim to divine favor.
Nevertheless, 1996 was the launching point for the modern legend of the Yankees, and the birth year of their fans detestable sense of entitlement. The Bombers reeled off four consecutive victories in the 1996 World Series, and went on to post 10 more consecutive Fall Classic wins, thanks in no small part to Armando Benitez. The year was 2000, and Yankee Magic was everywhere.
In the years since then, Yankee Magic has done little to bring the Bombers their coveted 27th World Series championship. Unfortunately enough, thathasn'tnÂt stopped players and media types around the country from talking about it. Not even their historic collapse against the Red Sox in the 2004 ALCS was enough to shut up the likes of Giambi, A-Rod, and all the rest when it came to the matter of pulling on the Pinstripes, and how doing so for the first time was a dream come true.
ThereÂs no changing any of that, and I canÂt say IÂm surprised that players on the team still say that kind of thing. Now that theyÂre Yankees, I suppose I donÂt blame them for doing so, even if I reserve the right to hate them for it.
White Sox pitching coach Don Cooper is another story.
In a report published in the New York Times on October 21, Tyler Kepner wrote the following:
"Without saying it, the White Sox pitching coach Don Cooper strongly hinted Friday that he would be interested in becoming the Yankees' pitching coach if they approached him after the World Series.
Cooper is signed through next season, and there is no guarantee the White Sox would let him leave. But he is a New York native and pitched for the Yankees in 1985.
'Twenty-six world championships intrigues me,' Cooper said. 'My focus is here. I want one. They've got 26. I mean, who wouldn't want to be a part of that? Who wouldn't want to work for Steinbrenner's Yankees?'"
Think about that for just a minute. Here you have a guy who has guided a talented pitching staff all season long. HeÂs brought them and the long-suffering city of Chicago to the World Series. He has the chance to lead the White Sox to their first championship in 88 years. And just before stepping on to baseballÂs biggest stage, what does he do? He talks about the 26 world championships another team won once upon a time.
I donÂt know whether Cooper was called out by any of the local Chicago media for his comments, and I donÂt know whether he was booed lustily by the hometown crowd that has waited so long for a reason to cheer. I hope he was. He certainly deserved whatever he got.
He deserved it because he, like so many other people in baseball, seems to have no concept of why itÂs special to lead an upstart team to its first World Series in X-amount of years. Why itÂs special to root for a team or be part of a team that doesnÂt win every year as a matter of birth right.
Red Sox fans can say whatever they want about Curt Schilling, but at least he got it. He knew he could either be yet another link in the Yankee chain or he could go to Boston and become the sort of legend who never dies.
Lost in all the talk about Yankee Magic and the aura and mystique of pulling on the Pinstripes is that winning is meaningless unless you know what it is to suffer. The Yankee fans who celebrated the championship in 1996? I wouldn't have said it at the time, but you know what? Good for them. Eighteen years? They earned it.
What do Giambi or A-Rod or Cooper or current Yankee fans know about that? All they know about is the 26 championships and all the other tired talking points that inform any of the interviews they give or any of the programs aired on the YES Network.
ItÂs astonishing to me that players and coaches wouldnÂt seek out the opportunity to beat the Yankees, to be a part of something more enduring than the machine. But even more depressing than that is the story of a guy like Don Cooper, a pitching coach in the midst of one of the truly special runs in recent baseball history (overshadowed, fairly or unfairly, by last yearÂs Red Sox though it is) and yet all he can think about is Yankee Magic, about being a part of those 26 championships.
I thought we had moved on. I thought five years and many bad defeats along the way would be enough to change the nature of the discourse surrounding the Yankees.
As Mr. Glass would say, "What can I say?" -- I donÂt know what I was thinking.
RIP Dougie Doug,
A Friend of Mr. Glass'
Like many other Mets fans, few things rile me more than talk about Yankee Magic. For a fan born in the early 1980s, the mystique of the pinstripes was essentially unknown until the mid-to-late 1990s, when the Yankees emerged from their long and longed-for slumber to win the 1996 World Series over the equally loathsome Atlanta Braves.
Was it Yankee magic that carried the Bombers to their first championship since 1978? Of course not; a team that goes 18 years without a World Series appearance can hardly lay claim to divine favor.
Nevertheless, 1996 was the launching point for the modern legend of the Yankees, and the birth year of their fans detestable sense of entitlement. The Bombers reeled off four consecutive victories in the 1996 World Series, and went on to post 10 more consecutive Fall Classic wins, thanks in no small part to Armando Benitez. The year was 2000, and Yankee Magic was everywhere.
In the years since then, Yankee Magic has done little to bring the Bombers their coveted 27th World Series championship. Unfortunately enough, thathasn'tnÂt stopped players and media types around the country from talking about it. Not even their historic collapse against the Red Sox in the 2004 ALCS was enough to shut up the likes of Giambi, A-Rod, and all the rest when it came to the matter of pulling on the Pinstripes, and how doing so for the first time was a dream come true.
ThereÂs no changing any of that, and I canÂt say IÂm surprised that players on the team still say that kind of thing. Now that theyÂre Yankees, I suppose I donÂt blame them for doing so, even if I reserve the right to hate them for it.
White Sox pitching coach Don Cooper is another story.
In a report published in the New York Times on October 21, Tyler Kepner wrote the following:
"Without saying it, the White Sox pitching coach Don Cooper strongly hinted Friday that he would be interested in becoming the Yankees' pitching coach if they approached him after the World Series.
Cooper is signed through next season, and there is no guarantee the White Sox would let him leave. But he is a New York native and pitched for the Yankees in 1985.
'Twenty-six world championships intrigues me,' Cooper said. 'My focus is here. I want one. They've got 26. I mean, who wouldn't want to be a part of that? Who wouldn't want to work for Steinbrenner's Yankees?'"
Think about that for just a minute. Here you have a guy who has guided a talented pitching staff all season long. HeÂs brought them and the long-suffering city of Chicago to the World Series. He has the chance to lead the White Sox to their first championship in 88 years. And just before stepping on to baseballÂs biggest stage, what does he do? He talks about the 26 world championships another team won once upon a time.
I donÂt know whether Cooper was called out by any of the local Chicago media for his comments, and I donÂt know whether he was booed lustily by the hometown crowd that has waited so long for a reason to cheer. I hope he was. He certainly deserved whatever he got.
He deserved it because he, like so many other people in baseball, seems to have no concept of why itÂs special to lead an upstart team to its first World Series in X-amount of years. Why itÂs special to root for a team or be part of a team that doesnÂt win every year as a matter of birth right.
Red Sox fans can say whatever they want about Curt Schilling, but at least he got it. He knew he could either be yet another link in the Yankee chain or he could go to Boston and become the sort of legend who never dies.
Lost in all the talk about Yankee Magic and the aura and mystique of pulling on the Pinstripes is that winning is meaningless unless you know what it is to suffer. The Yankee fans who celebrated the championship in 1996? I wouldn't have said it at the time, but you know what? Good for them. Eighteen years? They earned it.
What do Giambi or A-Rod or Cooper or current Yankee fans know about that? All they know about is the 26 championships and all the other tired talking points that inform any of the interviews they give or any of the programs aired on the YES Network.
ItÂs astonishing to me that players and coaches wouldnÂt seek out the opportunity to beat the Yankees, to be a part of something more enduring than the machine. But even more depressing than that is the story of a guy like Don Cooper, a pitching coach in the midst of one of the truly special runs in recent baseball history (overshadowed, fairly or unfairly, by last yearÂs Red Sox though it is) and yet all he can think about is Yankee Magic, about being a part of those 26 championships.
I thought we had moved on. I thought five years and many bad defeats along the way would be enough to change the nature of the discourse surrounding the Yankees.
As Mr. Glass would say, "What can I say?" -- I donÂt know what I was thinking.
RIP Dougie Doug,
A Friend of Mr. Glass'
posted by Sippy Momo at 4:57 PM
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