Teams that got rid of Bob Abreu: 1.

Teams with Bob Abreu: 0.

Best Player in Baseball 0-for-Series.

But he's definitely clutch. He's the kind of player you build a Championship Team around.

Tampa is too tight. I mean, too relaxed. I can't keep track.

They lost one game, and they even almost won:

"And yet there comes a point at which relaxation runs into complacency, where one loss turns into two and then three and four, and then the inherent flaw in their thinking – espoused by Bob Marley – gets exposed: Every little thing isn’t gonna be all right."

I must say that the Rays are definteily in trouble in the 2008 World Series if they lose four games. It's happened to other teams in World Series over the years. One loss turns into two and then three and four.

As for the Rays/Bob Marley attitude problem ... I can't follow the logic. Read that sentence again and try if you want to lose your mind.

It was like Marciano vs. Schmeling.

The Red Sox are like an aging champion boxer with a steel jaw who got up from the canvas, but the Rays are like a young boxer who got in the final punch.

A knockout punch.

A jab here, an uppercut there.

Finally, a knockout punch.


Dear Lord, that was awful.

Expect to see it in a Lupica article tomorrow morning.

Manny Ramirez is a good baseball player.

"All those who seem to think that the Red Sox wouldn't have fallen into the hole they did against the Rays if Manny Ramirez were still around must have done everything except actually watch the Red Sox season."

As if Lupica watches baseball games.

Or maybe they're watching the games and noticing that Big Papi is hitting about .100 without the "protection" of Manny.

"So now they want to ignore the way the team played in August and September once Ramirez was gone.

They want to ignore how the team actually scored more runs once he was gone."

I think you mean to say more runs-per-game once he was gone. It's impossible to know how many runs they would have scored if they'd kept Manny.

Jason Bay is good. Manny Ramirez is better.

In 53 games with the Dodgers, Ramirez hit .396 with 53 RBIs. The relative performance of the Red Sox offense during that time doesn't diminish this.

"Mostly, they wanted to ignore the fact that the Red Sox wouldn't have even been playing the Tampa Bay Rays if Jason Bay, the guy who replaced Ramirez in left field at Fenway, didn't play the way he did against the Angels in the first round, all the way to scoring the winning run in Game 4."

In the first round of the playoffs vs. Chicago, Ramirez was 5-for-10 with 2 HRs and 4 walks.

He was even better in the second round of the playoffs.

I say WS MVP Manny and the Sox would have found a way to beat the Angels.

Do you ever wonder what would have happened if Torre was 1-5 in his first six playoff series?

"That game the Red Sox won, coming from 7-0 behind?

There was a time when Torre's Yankees won like that."

Not to get all technical on you, but ... no.

In fact, those teams never gave up 7 runs.

"Incidentally, do you ever wonder what would have happened with the Yankees if they had just let A-Rod go?"

I think about it a lot.

The answer is easy. Fourth place, if not fifth place.

But you need to be more specific. When?

If Lupica is talking about letting ARod go before the '07 season, then one good thing could have come out of it. It would have been the end of Torre's playoff streak.

You know, Joe Torre: The 21st Century version of Bobby Cox.

Personally, I will miss you.

"Two days later, Dodgers manager Joe Torre was still being second-guessed about the way he used his bullpen in Game 4 of the NL championship series.

No problem, he said."

He will not answer one question directly.


" 'This time of year, it's not unusual,' Torre said Wednesday before Game 5. 'Everybody who's a baseball fan always has an idea of what you should do, which is great. It goes with the territory.' "

Not interested in your mental well being. Only interested in why you burned up three lefties while Matt Stairs was still on Philly's bench.


" 'You don't base decisions on, "What am I going to say?" You make decisions based on trying to win a game.' "

Right.

So why did you take out Derek Lowe so early?


" 'If there are things I have to answer for, so be it.' "

Still waiting for you to answer.


" 'The thing I was surprised about was all the Derek Lowe stuff,' Torre said. 'We had a two-run lead entering the eighth. I'll take that every day of the week. We got the lead (in the bottom of the fifth). It was a long inning.' "

You still haven't answered the question.

As for the two-run lead entering the eighth, I'm sure the Phillies were happy with a two-run lead exiting the ninth.


" 'I had no second thoughts about what happened the other day,' Torre said. 'It's a lot worse to second-guess yourself.' "

Nice.

Lesson learned.

Never second-guess yourself.

Meanwhile, I'm willing to bet that Torre had no idea that Matt Stairs was on the Phillies.

Current Events.

"A game-losing, series-altering gopher ball by a pitcher who hadn't served up a home run in his home ballpark in so long, the Dow has dropped about 5,000 points since then?"

The Dow dropped 5,000 points since ... noon?


"A game-tying homer by the biggest villain in town, a fellow who is about as popular in Los Angeles these days as gas prices?"

Gas prices are the lowest they've been in about a year.

Torre loves Manny Ramirez more than he loves Derek Jeter.

Jeter got hit about 1,000 times when Torre was his manager. I think he actually led the league. Torre never retaliated.

I remember when Ken Huckaby dislocated Jeter's shoulder and Roger Clemens may have even been pitching for the Yankees. Torre didn't retaliate.

One time, as a member of the Red Sox, Manny hit a HR off Scott Proctor and admired it at home plate for about fifteen minutes. Torre said he didn't see it because he was watching the ball.

Now, with the Dodgers, Manny gets buzzed once and Torre retaliates.

Even if the batter the Dodgers chose is 5' 2" and weighs 90 pounds.


So, Torre finally grows a pair.

I don't know whether to laugh or to cry.

I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or calm myself down with a nice, delicious cup of green tea.

So order your pitchers to hit one batter. Just one.

I'm so pleased this has suddenly become a national news story:

"Torre said it wasn't about intimidation or retaliation. It was about establishing the outside part of the plate by showing a willingness to throw inside and keep opposing hitters honest."

What's wrong with intimidation and retaliation?


"He cited a well-known pitcher Torre often caught."

I'll give you three guesses:

• Bob Gibson.
• Bob Gibson.
• Bob Gibson.
  

" 'People remember Bob Gibson and they say he pitched inside,' Torre said. 'Really, he pitched away. But he made you conscious [inside] because he didn't want you diving over the plate. It's sketchy sometimes, the way umpires make more of it. It's the way the game has changed.' When asked specifically about a pitcher protecting his hitters, Torre said, 'We're all in this thing together. We're a team and we have to make sure we're there for each other.' "

We have to make sure we're there for each other. We also have to make sure we drink a lot of green tea.

I am so smart. I am so smart. I am so s-m-a-r-t.

"The fifth pitch, Russell Martin was knocked down by a Brett Myers fastball.

The eighth pitch, Manny Ramirez was tilted backward by another Myers fastball.

The ninth pitch, Ramirez was greeted with a Myers fastball that sailed three feet behind his head, braids included.

Nine pitches, three messages, and the Philadelphia Phillies couldn't have been more clear if they had painted it across Joe Torre's brow.

We don't fear you. We won't bend for you. What are you going to do about it?

After nearly four hours Friday, with their hitters waiting and their coaches wondering, Dodgers pitchers meekly submitted an answer.

Nothing."

First of all, the Dodgers forcefully responded. I saw Don Mattingly on TV. He was in the dugout, yelling at Myers. "Hey, quit it. You stop doing that." Or something to that effect.


" 'They kept pitching us hard and inside all night,' Matt Kemp said Friday night, shaking his head.

Asked whether Dodgers pitchers should retaliate, he sighed and said, 'It is what it is. But if we played the game like they played the last two games, we'd be all right.'

...

When Ramirez was asked about it, he actually complimented the nutty, gritty Phillies pitcher.

'I want to have a guy like that on my team,' he said.

Hint, hint."

Look, if Torre actually instructs his pitcher to retaliate, it would be the first time.

Torre is too classy, don't you know?

When Joba Chamberlain was being eaten alive by bugs on the mound in Cleveland ... in the most important game of the year ... Torre didn't pull his team from the field. Torre didn't kick the umpire in the nuts. Torre didn't even complain. It would be unseemly.

The Dodger players don't understand. This isn't about them. It's about Torre. He has a reputation to uphold.

If I were you, I'd learn to duck.

No more steroids = no more clutch.

David Ortiz has gone about 50 postseason at-bats without a home run.

A Red Sox player is Lupica's MVP. Twenty-fifth year in a row.

"Brad Lidge, the Phillies' closer, won't win the MVP award in the National League.

But he ought to."

No, he ought not.

Though it's a more compelling argument than K-Rod in the AL.

I also have to give Lupica credit for turning his back on Billy Wagner. It must be difficult to say goodbye to the ones you love.


"And Kevin Youkilis, who can play first or third base for the Red Sox, who bats cleanup for the Red Sox now that Manny doesn't, is MVP of the American League."

My favorite moment of the baseball season occurred in last night's ALCS Game Two.

Eighth inning, tie game runners on first and second, Youkilis batting.

6-4-3 DP.

But I know it wasn't a choke. It couldn't be a choke. Because Youk doesn't choke. He just doesn't. Look at his beard and look at the dirt on his uniform.

Torre, I get ...

Why would the Yankees or their fans care about Manny Ramirez?

Hardball.

I'm surprised nobody is seeing the easy way to beat the Dodgers. Peg Manny in the back the first time he bats. Then, the second time he bats. Every time, if necessary.

Torre won't retaliate -- he never does.

Manny won't retaliate -- we know that.

What are they going to do? Peg Ryan Howard? Go ahead.

Howard won't charge the mound. He will smile and slowly walk towards the mound, casting aside Dodger players until he reaches the pitcher. Then, Howard will reach into the pitcher's chest, pull out the pitcher's heart and eat it.

Torre should run for President.

I'm too classy to say "I told ya so," but, "I told ya so":

“I didn’t necessarily feel I needed to vindicate myself, I just wanted to see if I could do it somewhere else."

I didn't necessarily feel I needed to vindicate myself, I just wanted to vindicate myself.


“It wasn’t that I was looking to get out of New York. I just felt it was time to leave because it wasn’t as comfortable.”

It wasn't that I was looking to get out of New York, I just felt it was time to get out of New York.

Now we're getting somewhere.

"The Division Series between the Angels and the Red Sox ended, appropriately enough, with Jason Bay, who had toiled in obscurity as a Pirate, scoring on a base hit by Jed Lowrie, a rookie who'd been called up after only 40 games in Triple-A.

These men were strangers to playoff baseball. But then, so what?

The time has come to expose the great ruse of October: postseason experience.

Who needs it?"

Most sportswriters are lazy, shortsighted, and unimaginative. They use meaningless criteria like "playoff experience" because it is easier than thinking.

"I don't care what the sabermetric geeks do with their calculators; the heroically clutch athlete — the one who elevates his game under pressure — is the foundation of all sportswriting."

Right.

"Clutch" is probably the only lazy cliche more hackneyed than "playoff experience."


Kriegel brings up an interesting observation, however.

The "heroically clutch athlete" probably is the foundation of all sportswriting. I agree. All lazy, shortsighted, and unimaginative sportswriting.

Not the foundation of sports success.

Not the foundation of enjoyable sports viewing.

Just the foundation for hack writers looking for a storyline.

Are you being serious?

"Counting the playoffs, Sabathia has thrown 513 innings over the last two seasons. Whoever signs him will dismiss that and talk about what a good athlete he is for his size. But that’s a lot of innings. Make a list of all the long-term contracts for free-agent starters that worked out well. Let’s see there’s … um … Mike Mussina."

Hi, I'm a baseball writer and I've never heard of Randy Johnson (four Cy Young Awards in a row), Greg Maddux, or Roger Clemens.

Or does he mean recent Yankee free agent pitchers only?

You've still got David Cone, David Wells, and Jimmy Key.

It's like boxing. You're like boxing. Everything is boxing.

Mike Lupica writes about politics in America!:

"When [McCain] tries to throw a big punch, Obama slips it in the elegant way Ali used to, slips it and moves away and then jabs back and keeps piling up points."

As long as McCain isn't being compared to Gerry Cooney, I think we've successfully avoided any unnecessary racial overtones.

Still, I don't even think that's how Ali used to fight. Maybe Sugar Ray Leonard.


"Every time it happens, McCain looks a little more dazed and confused, to the point where even a lightweight like Palin starts to look as if she has a better sense of who she is than the guy at the top of the ticket ..."

Kind of like Boom Boom Mancini.


"... a notion that is frankly scarier than all 'Friday the 13th' movies combined."

Even scarier than all "Friday the 13th" movies? Combined?

That is really, really, really gosh darned scary.

All the "Friday the 13th" movies ... combined!

Not as scary as watching all the "Friday the 13th" movies back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back.

But all the "Friday the 13th" combined in one compact singularity of scariness.

Can you imagine such a scary thing?

That's how unbelievably scary it is that lightweight Sarah Palin starts to look as if she has a better sense of herself than John McCain does of himself.

I mean, "Friday the 13th Part VIII, Jason Takes Manhattan" was SO SCARY by itself, that I actually crapped in my pants while I was watching it.

Imagine how scary it would be when COMBINED with the other EIGHT "Friday the 13th" movies.

My goodness.

A wordsmith like Mike Lupica can really sends chills down my spine.

A modern-day Poe if there ever was one.

Tough Crowd.

Ladies and Germs, your entertainment for the evening, Mike Lupica!:

"But they all keep acting as if Ramirez was magically transported into Tinsel Town on angels' wings.

Not the Anaheim Angels, of course."

I said, not the Anaheim Angels, of course.

Sheesh, tough crowd.

How about a boxing metaphor?:

"Another first-round defeat for our $200 million kids when they won the first game of a five-game series and then went down as easily as Michael Spinks did one time against Mike Tyson."

Michael Spinks?

So, you're trying to elucidate a baseball playoffs series that occurred one year ago by comparing it to a long-forgotten boxing match that took place, I don't know, twenty-five years ago? Twenty years ago?

Not for nothing, but the team that was "knocked out" by the Red Sox in 2004 keeps winning 90 games or more and usually make the playoffs.

Spinks retired that night.

So, your metaphor is not only confusing and esoteric, it's not relevant.

Good work.

Klap on, Klap off.

Very cool to name your awards the Klappies.

Oh, by the way, Bob: Do you spoon Joe Torre much?:

"MANAGER OF THE YEAR, NL: Joe Torre, Dodgers.

Enjoying the ultimate 'Take that' to the Steinbrenner family, although Joe Cool won’t gloat. His cool, calm demeanor was exactly the elixir the Dodgers needed."

1. The ultimate "take that" would be winning the World Series.

2. Joe Cool gloats every chance he gets. You just have to read between the lines. Because he's never forthright enough to speak the direct truth.

3. While playing in one of the worst divisions in MLB history, the Dodgers were only able to win 84 games.


"WEASEL OF THE YEAR: Hank Steinbrenner

Or whoever in the front office was responsible for keeping Torre’s name from being mentioned during the Stadium’s closing ceremonies. No excuse for such an obvious slap."

I was going to say Andy Pettitte for taking human growth hormone, lying about it, lying about it again, getting his family involved, and then tanking in the second half of the season.

All the while stealing $17 million from the Steinbrenners.

Of course, my vision extends beyond Joe Torre.


"ON THE WAY DOWN (Yankees): Joe Girardi.

Seeing flecks of grey in that state trooper crew cut."

Won 89 games, clearly improved as the season continued, and also compelled his team to close out the season strong, which at least displayed professionalism and cohesiveness.

So, Giradi is on the way up.

But he's not Joe Torre ... so Klapisch doesn't like him.


"LAST LAUGH AWARD: Joe Torre.

For all the obvious reasons."

So ... you created an entirely new Klappie Award ... just so you could mention Joe Torre again.

Bottom line.

I can be a bottom line, serious-minded, results-oriented guy.

The Yankees won 89 games this season, missed the playoffs, and will not win the World Series.

Girardi was disappointing. His bullpen management was excellent, and that's probably the aspect of the game where a manager can have the most impact. He did not discipline Cano and Melky enough. I think he was trying too hard to ease the Torre transition when he should have sought a clean break. An occasional awkward platoon decision, but nothing too bizarre:

"Asked about his relationship with the media, Girardi said: 'I think it’s pretty good. I think I’m comfortable with the media and the media is comfortable with me. You take away (the injury issue) and I think it’s outstanding.' "

Outstanding? Meanwhile, Cashman said several times yesterday, including on WFAN, that Girardi needs to improve how he deals with the press because it’s important in the New York market. Forget what I think, that’s the GM talking."

Let's say Girardi answered every press question perfectly this season. He was forthright, he was entertaining, he was avuncular, he was always available.

He even had charming anecdotes about ex-ballplayers and he remembered the name and birthday of every reporter's spouse.

How many games would the Yankees have won?

I say 89.

So explain why it's important in the New York market.

Just because Brian Cashman says so?

Cashman is the guy who's now explaining how Hughes + Kennedy were not disappointing in 2008.

Phil Coke had one more win than Hughes + Kennedy combined.

Carl Pavano had four more wins than Hughes + Kennedy combined.

You could have watched every game while sitting in a bean bag chair with a Pabst Blue Ribbon in each hand and you'd have won as many games and Hughes + Kennedy combined.


Mussina had 20 wins, Pettitte had 14.

You know who was third on the Yankees?

Wang ... with 8 whole wins.

Mariano Rivera had 6 wins, which is more than any other starter besides the top three.


Maybe that's Cashman's problem. Too much yackety yack with the press.

$ales pitch is vital for deep CC fishing.

That's the actual headline: "$ales pitch is vital for deep CC fishing."

At long last, headline writer for the New York Post, have you left no sense of decency?



"EIGHT years ago, the top start ing pitcher in the free-agent market had no desire to be a New Yorker or a Yankee. None."

How the heck do you know?


"During a five-minute call, Mussina was blown away by Torre's gravitas and ability to project the positives of the New York suburbs and life with the Yankees."

How the heck do you know?


"Fatherly and forthright, Torre was a wonderful salesman in his time as Yankees manager."

Yes, I don't doubt that Torre is a wonderful salesman. He may have even persuaded Mussina. That and a lot of money. A WHOLE lot of money. Lots and lots of money money money money money money money money money.

It's a charming story about the five-minute phone call.

Mussina's silence was probably not due to profound reverence. He was probably distracted, listening with one ear, calculating the compound interest on $98 million.

"Honey, we're getting a new pool! Ummm ... no, go ahead, Mr. Torre. I was listening."


"Now, eight years later, the top starting pitcher in the free-agent market has no desire to be a New Yorker. None."

Oh, I thought you were going to say, "Now, eight years later, Mussina still has zero Championship rings."


"So who is going to motivate CC Sabathia to reconsider his Yankee aversion? Joe Girardi? What exactly is that phone call going to be like between the hardly fatherly, hardly forthright Girardi and the fun-loving, 300-pound Sabathia? 'CC if you want to drag that hulking body through my marine boot camp spring training and live in a clubhouse where I ban sweets of all sorts from candy to ice cream to soda, and spend the next six years thinking up synonyms for humorless, boy, have I got a team for you.' "

No, he doesn't have to say all that.

He just has to say, "Cha-ching!"

"CC, my fat friend. With the amount of money we're going to pay you, you can buy all the candy you want. You can buy Little Debbie. Not the company: the person. You will actually be able to buy Little Debbie and order her to make candy in your kitchen after every game."