by Jim Gerard
In the succeeding years, the halt and the lame would make pilgrimages to Pittsburgh, just to touch some of Mazeroski’s Big League Chew.
1955 WORLD SERIES VS. BROOKLYN DODGERS: DEM BUMS SHOW YANKS WHO’S BOSS
8. The Dodgers, who had lost to the Yanks in the Series in 1947, 1949, 1952, and 1953, were down two games to none and confronting another “next year,” but 23-year-old lefty Johnny Podres beat the Bombers 8-3 in the third game and shut them out 2-0 in Game 7 in front of a crowd of 62,465. Sandy Amoros, sent in as a defensive replacement by Dodgers manager Walter Alston in the sixth inning, immediately saved the lead and the series. With two men on, he sprinted from left-center to the left-field foul line to nab Yogi Berra’s wrong-field fly, then started a relay that doubled up Billy Martin off first.
1981 WORLD SERIES VS. LOS ANGELES DODGERS: FRAZIER NEEDS A SHRINK
9. Bad managing by Bob Lemon—in Game 6, he pinch-hit for his best pitcher, Tommy John, in the bottom of the fourth inning—and atrocious relief pitching from George Frazier (brought in for John), who set a Series record with three losses, lifted the Dodgers from a 2-0 game deficit, as they took four straight. Afterward, Steinbrenner issued a public apology to Yankee fans, then “rendered” Frazier to a Middle Eastern country where torture is legal.
1964 WORLD SERIES VS. ST. LOUIS CARDINALS, GAME 7: GIBSON DRIVES A STAKE INTO THE DYNASTY
10. Bob Gibson held on to an early 7-0 lead and beat the Yanks, 7-5, to clinch the series for St. Louis. It was the last Fall Classic for veterans Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford, Bobby Richardson, Tony Kubek, and Clete Boyer, and the team wouldn’t appear again in October for 12 years.
CHOKING UP: THE WORST COLLAPSE SINCE THE 1929 MARKET
Around midnight on October 21, 2004, everything changed. The sun revolved around the earth. Time ticked backward. The Babe stayed in Beantown, Yaz hit a walk-off against the Goose, Buckner caught Mookie’s grounder, and Pesky nailed Slaughter at the plate. Red Sox Nation was triumphant, and the result was Yankee Götterdämmerung, the twilight of the Bronx idols. After the Yanks had become the first team in baseball history to blow a 3-0 lead in a post-season series, one stunned fan blurted, “Everything I’ve always known to be right has been proven wrong.”
Little did anyone know that Mariano Rivera’s walk of Kevin Millar in the ninth inning of Game 4 would lead to a cataclysm whose repercussions for the Yankee franchise might be felt for a decade or more.
Among the incredulous faithful and the fickle media, the postmortems for the team’s mind-boggling, four-game ALCS choke—called by one writer “the lowest moment in the organization’s history”—began immediately. The Yankee hitters, who had pummeled Boston pitching in Games 1 and 3 of the series, suddenly developed corked heads, eschewing their trademark patience and swinging wildly, even while ahead in the count. They did this not just against a one-legged Curt Schilling, but against Derek Lowe, who’d had such a deplorable season he’d been relegated to long relief before the playoffs began. In Game 7, the Yanks Millionaires’ Row could only manage one hit in six innings against Lowe, who was pitching on two days’ rest.
The starting pitchers, outside of Mike Mussina and Jon Lieber in Game 2, were pounded by Papi David Ortiz and his niños—especially Kevin Brown, who Yankee fans wished had broken his right hand instead of his left. And Tom Gordon and Mo Rivera were human defibrillators, coughing up late-inning leads in Games 4 and 5 to bring the unconscious Sox back to life.
Joe Torre managed on autopilot, and without Don Zimmer to jog his memory, forgot that Kenny Lofton was even on the team. A fool’s parade of Brian Cashman’s acquisitions—Brown, Javier Vásquez, Esteban Loaiza, Félix Heredia—took turns throwing batting practice to the Red Sox.
Steinbrenner’s “warriors” turned out to be matchstick soldiers—especially golden boy Alex Rodriguez, who not only dematerialized at the plate, but whose petulant, bush-league swipe at Bronson Arroyo while running out an infield tapper in the eighth inning of Game 6 was a cringe-inducing cry for help. Mr. November, Derek Jeter, hit.200 in the series, made two errors, and displayed about as much lateral movement as an armored personnel carrier—and then told the press that “this isn’t the same [Dynasty] team.” Across the entire organization there was a total absence of accountability—the Bush Administration in jockstraps. Gary Sheffield foolishly taunted the Red Sox after Game 3 (saying they weren’t winners), words that the Boston team used as motivational fuel. Then he pretty much went o—for the rest of the series.
In the end, the Yanks came up short—in pitching, hitting, fielding, roster construction, and guts. The Sox completed this humiliation by drubbing the St. Louis Cardinals in four straight.
The Evil Empire has finally fallen. What will replace it? And how will the Emperor respond? Will he unleash pepper spray on his front office? Kidnap Randy Johnson? Sell Joe Torre’s identity to a Nigerian gang? All we know is that during the off-season, an overbearing owner, a phlegmatic manager, a beleaguered GM, and a variety of executive lackeys will be locked in mortal combat in a Florida office. Call it “Tampa Survivor.”
The All-Time Worst Yankee Teams
The Barren Years I: The Highlanders
The Highlanders are the batty old uncle in the Yankee attic, the part of themselves they dare not mention in public, lest their mythology be darkened. Outside of two second-place finishes (1904, 1910), they spent their 17 years of existence skulking around in the American League cellar. They played in Hilltop Park (for which they were named) in Washington Heights, in Manhattan, until 1913, when they moved to become tenants of the New York Giants in the Polo Grounds. At this point, perhaps influenced by a local sportswriter, Mark Roth, who had already dubbed them in print, they changed their name to the Yankees. It was only in 1921, when the Giants, threatened by Ruth’s notoriety and the Yankees’ higher attendance, evicted them from the Polo Grounds, that the team hatched its plan for what would become Yankee Stadium.
The Barren Years II:
CBS Launches a Bomb
Even though the Yanks had won the AL pennant in 1964, owner Dan Topping executed two epochal moves he’d planned during the season: (1) to fire manager Yogi Berra, who he blamed for the team’s disappointing early-season showing and World Series loss to the Cardinals, and (2) to sell the team to CBS. Following the World Series, the network purchased 80 percent of the Yanks for $11.2 million. (They bought the rest later.) Their investment fell apart on them as the Yankees, under manager Johnny Keane (the Cardinals skipper in ’64), had their first losing season since 1925. Thus began the “Horace Clarke era” and a descent to the cellar so precipitous, it was as if somebody had opened an enormous trapdoor under Yankee Stadium. The team’s last-place finish had many causes: Tony Kubek and Whitey Ford had retired, Roger Maris had lost most of his power, Mantle was breaking down physically, and their farm system was barren. Players such as Jerry Kenny, Ross Moschitto, and Steve Whitaker impersonated Yankees and indelibly imprinted themselves on the formative minds of the next generation of Yankee fans, and would cost them years of therapy as grown-ups.
So embarrassing are the years 1965-71 that the biggest highlight from that era in the team’s media guide is the painting of Yankee Stadium.
The Barren Years III:
Meet the New Boss...
The Yankees in the 1980s were the victim of Bad George, the evil-twin owner who overhauled the roster like a cracked-up fashion designer perpetually searching for a new “look.” From 1982 to 1991 the team was a revolving door of managers (11 changes) and players. Billy Martin was hired and fired six times, and the team more resembled a bad comedy pilot than the most successful franchise in sports. Yet for most of the ’80s, the team was a contender, and it was only late in the decade that they crashed.
The last-place 1990 team reached the nadir of Yankee history. It had the next-to-worst pitching in the league (When Timothy Leary is your best pitcher, it’s time to take some LSD.) And the hitters were even worse. Jesse Barfield batted .246 and struck out
150 times. Roberto Kelly, who was impossible to walk, struck out 148 times. The full-time catcher was Bob Geren, who batted .213. There were more cancers in the clubhouse than at Sloane-Kettering.
NOTES
All historical material in this chapter is taken from baseball library.com, baseballreference.com, and various series wrap-ups from ESPN.com and other sources.
Chapter Eight
THE ALL-TIME WORST YANKEES
Ladies and gentlemen, here are your New York Yankees:
Starting pitchers: Andy Hawkins, Ed Whitson, Jeff Weaver, Mike “Swapping Partners” Kekich
Relievers: Dale Murray, Félix Heredia
Bench: Tuck Stainback (OF), Red Kleinow (C), “Chicken” Hawks (1B), Sandy Alomar, Jr. (2B), Jim Mason (SS)
Manager: Stump Merrill
I know what you’re thinking: “Those are Yankees? I must’ve fallen through a wormhole in time-space to an alternate universe where the mighty Bombers whiff, stumble, and throw nothing but gopher balls, a universe ruled by Dick Radatz. Right?”
Well, no. These players actually existed and were carefully chosen after much perusal of the historical record: They’re the all-time worst players to have worn the pinstripes. Call them the anti-Yanks.
I chose them based on the following criteria: (1) they had to have completed a full season or so with the Yankees; (2) they had to really suck, especially at the plate.
Here’s the scouting report:
CATCHER: JAKE GIBBS 1965—1971
Anybody who followed the Yankees in the 1960s remembers Gibbs, who was always described by Yankee announcers as a “good-looking ex-quarterback from 01’ Miss.” It was generally acknowledged that the former All-American couldn’t hit but provided solid defense. But in his three seasons between Elston Howard and Thurman Munson in which he filled the catcher’s spot, he had a below-average fielding percentage and range factor. In 1967, Gibbs made a whopping 16 errors in 99 games. Perhaps this was because he’d been a third baseman in college, which makes you wonder why the Yanks tried to convert him.
His 10-year-career batting line:
HR 25 RBI 146 BB 120 K 231 BA .233 OBP .289 SLG .321
BACKUP: RED KLEINOW 1904-1910
In 1904, the New York Highlanders were tied with the Red Sox in a game that would decide the American League pennant (which would’ve been New York’s first). Then 41-game-winner Jack Chesbro sailed a spitball over Kleinow’s head, which allowed the winning run to score. It was ruled a wild pitch, but Kleinow took heat for failing to catch it. It would be another 17 years before the franchise won a pennant. At the plate, Kleinow sucked in an era when “sucking” was known only to French people: His career OPS was .551, almost 100 points lower than the league’s.
FIRST BASE: JOHNNY STURM 1941
He was the starting first baseman for the 1941 World Championship team and was credited by many with alerting the Yankees to a young prospect named Mickey Mantle. Yet it’s hard to believe that any team—even one with Joe DiMaggio—could win a pennant with a first baseman who hit .239 with three home runs and 36 RBI in 124 games, and who wasn’t that great with the glove, either. Sturm mangled his hand in a wartime accident, but it’s hard to believe he could’ve played much worse even with it healthy.
BACKUP: NELSON “CHICKEN” HAWKS 1921
Don’t laugh yet; the man did play with Babe Ruth, in 1921, when he had one home run and 22 RBI.
SECOND BASE: HORACE CLARKE 1965—1974
The poster child for the sad-sack post-dynastic-collapse Yankees of the mid-’60s, Clarke—with his goggle-sized glasses, wispy physique and fey cricketeer swing—appears regularly in the nightmares of Yankee fans. Even in an era when middle infielders were typecast as good-glove, no-hit, it’s amazing that the Bronx Bombers could’ve let such an offensive black hole remain the starting second baseman for nine years. (OPS .621 League OPS .685) Due credit: “Hoss” was an above-average fielder, as was his backup on the All-Yankees-Suck squad, Sandy Alomar, Sr.
SHORTSTOP: ALVARO ESPINOZA 1989-1991
Another good fielder—he had a far superior range factor—Espy was another ghost at the plate. In three more or less full seasons, he had seven home runs and 94 RBI. His only skill with a bat in his hand was novelty hitting, as he was one of only four players in history to knock a fair ball that got stuck in a stadium obstruction—when his drive lodged in an overhead speaker at the Metrodome.
BACKUP: JIM MASON
Mason had the lowest batting average in the 1970s of any player with at least 1,500 at-bats. He hit below .200 in six of his eight seasons (not counting his nine at-bats in 1971), with a career high of .250 in 1974, his only year as a regular. And yet, in the 1976 World Series, after he replaced Fred Stanley in Game 3, he hit a solo homer in the seventh inning, the only man in history to hit a homerun in his only lifetime Series at-bat.
THIRD BASE: CELERINO SANCHEZ 1972-1973
In two seasons—a little over 250 at-bats—Sánchez hit exactly one home run, had 31 RBI, and walked a grand total of 12 times. He went to the Yanks from the Mexico City Tigers of the Mexican League for Ossie Chavarria in what was more of a prisoner exchange than a trade. Prices of his baseball cards: 35, (1973), $1 (1974).
BACKUP: JOHN KENNEDY
Played third in 1967 as if he’d been assassinated.
LEFT FIELD: OSCAR AZOCAR 1990
Boy, this team is so light-hitting, they’re approaching full weightlessness. Azocar had a .612 OPS in his one season in New York, a full 103 points lower than the league average.
BACKUP: TUCK STAINBACK
In parts of three seasons, compiled five home runs, 42 RBI, and 20 walks. Claim to fame: Once traded for Dizzy Dean.
CENTER FIELD: OMAR MORENO 1983-1984
“Omar the Outmaker” was arguably one of the worst hitters in baseball history. Acquired by the team during George’s brief infatuation with speed, he struck out often, walked almost never, and chopped at the ball as if it were a greasy pig that had gotten loose on the field. I’d include his lifetime stats here, but I’m firmly against pornography.
RIGHT FIELD: DAVE COLLINS 1982
For the Yanks, the early 1980s were the Dead Ball Era. Collins was a big part of it in 1982, when he hit three home runs, drove in 25 runs, and had a .315 OBP and .330 slugging percentage. Worse than that, a guy brought in for his speed was thrown out in 8 of 21 stolen base attempts.
DH: CARLOS MAY 1976-1977
Carlos, younger brother of Lee May, had some great seasons for the White Sox in the early ’70s, even after blowing off his thumb on National Guard duty. But by the time the Yanks got him, he was all thumbs. May was perhaps the only player in baseball history to wear his birth date-May 17—on the back of his uniform.
STARTING PITCHERS: ED
WHITSON 1985
A reviled name among Yankee fans, and a symbol of the small-market star who can’t cut it in the Big Apple. Whitson came over as a glamorous free agent, pitched miserably, broke manager Billy Martin’s arm in a bar one night after scuffling with a patron, was so unnerved by the demanding Yankee crowds that he threw up before each start, was the target of such abuse that in 1986, manager Lou Piniella wouldn’t pitch him at Yankee Stadium, and was virtually booed out of town.
ANDY HAWKINS 1988
His former manager Dick Williams dubbed him the “Timid Texan.” (The 1980s Yanks apparently wanted to corner the market in gutlessness.) Best remembered for pitching a no-hitter against the White Sox and losing 4-0. In 1990, Hawkins had three starts at Fenway Park, pitched a total of one inning, and gave up 18 runs. That’s an ERA of 162.00.
JEFF WEAVER
His 2003 performance in pinstripes was one of the worst by a starter in recent history: In 159 innings, he gave up 211 hits. His 5.99 ERA was more than 1.5 runs worse than the league average. As if his performance wasn’t putrid enough, Weaver didn’t endear himself to the team with his all-night carousing and obstinate refusal to reconsider his pitching approach. His horrendous 2003 season ended wh
en Joe Torre reverted to his “Clueless Joe” days and brought Weaver into Game 4 of the 2003 Series. Weaver promptly gave up the game-winning homer to ukulele-hitting shortstop Alex Gonzalez, which turned the Series in Florida’s favor.
MIKE KEKICH 1969-1972
Hard-throwing lefty who consistently stunk. Ended up pitching in Mexico and Japan. If only Kekich could’ve swapped careers with, say, Mickey Lolich.