The gloves come off.

When I attend a Yankee game with my friends, we usually play some side games, one of which is to take gentlemen's bets on how far Robinson Cano will run on a ground ball before he starts breaking it down.

The choices are 30 feet, 45 feet, 60 feet, and 75 feet.

90 feet is not an option because I don't know what kind of odds that would require, even for a gentlemen's bet:

"Didn't his middle-of-the-infield mentor, Derek Jeter, teach this guy anything? In fact, Jeter has tried over the years to convince Cano that he needs to run out every last dribbler, dive, get his uniform dirty, play the game like Jeter does, like Pete Rose did."

Well, no.

Jeter has not taught Cano anything about hustle and smarts.


"The manager also swung and missed -- like his star-studded sluggers who managed a grand sum of four hits -- when asked about Cano's hustle, or lack thereof. Girardi claimed he had no problem with Cano's hustle, or lack thereof.

'Robbie plays fine for me,' Girardi said. 'And I am sure he is frustrated and I understand that. You work really hard to get to this point, and you want to be a part of the winning and contributing, and it is frustrating when you don't.' "

Girardi benched Cano once, years ago, when Cano turned a one-base error into a two-base by loping after a botched ground ball.

That was the beginning and the end of the disciplinary response to Cano's slack.


"In the sixth inning, after Ichiro Suzuki small-balled his way onto first with a slow hopper that Detroit starter Anibal Sanchez couldn't handle, Cano offered something closer to a swinging bunt.

Cano had just watched Suzuki race down the line as if his Hall of Fame candidacy depended on it, his foot speed and competitive will leaving the rushed Tigers to fumble and bumble their way into trouble. Cano had also watched Jeter for years force infielders into hurried and errant throws by honoring DiMaggio's dogma of playing every game as if someone in the crowd is observing for the first time.

So what happens here in the middle of a scoreless game with the Yanks already down in the series, and down a captain? What happens when one of the sport's most talented hitters -- a player who should be desperate to deliver something, anything, of substance -- sends this potentially tricky bouncer to Sanchez's left?

The pitcher feels so comfortable fielding the ball that he throws the kind of underhand lob that a father might toss to his 4-year-old child. The pitcher does this because he knows Cano is running, and because he knows Cano doesn't run Ichiro/Jeter hard to first.

It didn't matter that the underhand throw was Charmin-soft, and it didn't matter that Cano -- nobody's idea of an Olympic sprinter -- might not have beaten it out at full blast. It did matter that Sanchez and the Tigers felt unburdened on the play because they knew Cano would take a lunchtime stroll down the line."

This is hilarious to me, the sudden outrage at Cano's slack.

It's like a New York sportswriter woke up this morning and got angry because the subway doesn't take tokens anymore.