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Expect Anything Less? Resurrection in the Bronx
Years of busted dreams and enough scandal to fill a gossiper’s archive were stampeded into the dirt of the forgotten on Wednesday night when 2 nd baseman Robinson Cano scooped up a ground ball and fired to first to lock up the Yankees’ 27 th title in franchise history. Mariano Rivera pumped his fist; Mark Teixeira, Derek Jeter, and Alex Rodriguez threw their arms in the air and ran into the mob at the pitcher’s mound. Finally overcoming the demons, New York claimed its place at the top of the baseball world once again.
In perspective, the title is sweeter than enhanced sugar (if that’s possible). The defending champion Philadelphia Phillies were the victim; and it turned out that bringing the series back to New York for Game 6 wasn’t so bad.
It was meant to be that Mariano Rivera would jog in from the bullpen in the eighth with one out and a four-run lead to deafening pandemonium. Although it’s not a save situation in the scorebook, I’d like to plead my case to the contrary. It was, indeed, a save. Rivera was pitching for Jorge Posada, Jeter, and Andy Pettitte. He was closing out speculation, doubters, haters, and the casual remarks that said the four were finished winning championships. So when the outfield gates opened and “Enter Sandman” rocked the air of Yankee Stadium, everyone who was there that night forgot the last nine years; they forgot the bloop single in Arizona on a warm Arizona night in 2001 that ended one of the greatest dynasties in professional sports. They welcomed Rivera into the next era because, forever young, he’ll be gracing the mound with his presence for at least a few more years.
The man of the series, though, was Hideki Matsui. The slugger nicknamed “Godzilla” took home MVP honors, the first Japanese-born star to do so. It would almost be sacrilege to let the free agent go from the team before next season. The guy tore up the Phillies’ pitching like a pit-bull to Michael Vick’s playbook. He 9-ironed a Cliff Lee breaking ball into the right field seats early in the series, and blasted a Pedro Martinez offering into the second level of right field seats in the series-clinching Game 6.
Speaking of Pedro—“Who’s Your Daddy?!”
On a much more serious note: Throughout the season, Alex Rodriguez got more poisonous ink from me than he’d ever get at a single-syringe tattoo parlor. He cheated the game, his teammates, and himself in his career. I never condone cheating in any situation, and my upbringing has everything in the world to do with that. This season Rodriguez, I’m presuming, was serious in trying to clear his name and turn over a new leaf. He seemed less concerned with his individual statistics, and appeared to have grown closer to his teammates. He no longer chomped his gum like a stable-horse as he once did to hide his rattled mind. I do have to admit that Rodriguez was one of the main reasons the Yankees were able to win the World Series. I do hope that this season, at least, the man was clean. If he was, then he proved more to himself than to us; and that’s all that matters in a situation such as his. He can’t take back the way he disrespected the game early in his career. He’ll always carry that albatross. What he can do, and again hopefully he did this year, is prove to himself that he doesn’t need to enhance the gifts he has.
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At any rate, the New York Yankees are 2009 World Series Champs. How did they get there? Every member of the team contributed throughout the year. They had more walk-offs than a pirate ship plank; more heart than Valentine’s Day. As far as the Steinbrenners and the front office are concerned, everyone on the team earned their salary. And guess what—they’ll be getting World Series bonuses tacked on as well; so the payroll argument has run its course. The respect this team deserves is that of people who understand the game of baseball. Getting paid minimum wage, or millions of dollars a year, the game still needs to be played by athletes.
I watched each and every one of the Yankees’ games this season with the exception of a few, and I noticed a different team than last year’s. I saw differences set aside. The media was kept out of clubhouse affairs, and any differences were resolved man-to-man—not through the press. Team building in Spring Training developed into a chemistry that can’t be recreated in a science lab. All of this was brought on by 2 nd year manager Joe Girardi who, instead of a chip on his shoulder, carried the weight of expectations on his back in the form of “27”. And next year he’ll be donning the #28 jersey as he’ll lead another Yankee charge.
So turn on Sinatra’s “New York, New York”, and crank up Jay-Z’s “Empire State of Mind”.
As for me: It’s been an honor covering America’s team this past season. Congratulations, New York Yankees, 2009 World Champions!
By Tim Gaffney
MLBcenter.com New York Yankees Correspondent
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