Damned if they do, damned if they don't Yankees

Damned if you do, damned if you don't. It's just one of those
things. We all know that Orenthal James "O. J." Simpson didn't
brutally murder Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman in a heated crime of
passion inside Brown's Los Angeles, California home by way of countless
knife slashes through the neck and vertebrae to the point of near
decapitation between the hours of 10:15 and 10:40 p.m. Pacific Time on June
12, 1994 because he loved her so much that he couldn't stand the thought of
her being with anyone else and if he couldn't have her, no one could. NOOOOOO. We all know that didn't happen,obviously.
But what many people don't realize about the O.J. case is that
following the trial, his relationship with gloves forever changed.
If he continued to wear them, well, that's it, case closed, O.J. did it.
It'd be like rubbing salt in a knife wound. But if after 48 years of incessant Italian leather glove wearing, he suddenly stopped, well wouldn't that be a bit suspicious as well?
So when O.J. prepared to head out that first morning after the October 2, 1995 not-guilty verdict, Simpson had a choice to make: "should I wear them, or not?
On one hand, it's a bit cold and the occasion calls for gloves. But if I
wear them, well, that would look a little strange.
"On the other hand,everyone knows that I LOVE gloves. They're kind of my thing. In high school,people used to call me the gloved killer just because I always wore gloves and I killed opposing defenses on the football field. It'd be a little
strange for me to not wear gloves on a brisk day like this.
"On second thought, I think I'll just stay in today."
And so it went: for the remainder of his free life (before a totally
unrelated crime landed him in prison last December), Simpson only left his
house for confessional. Damn those gloves.
And what about former NASDAQ chairman and America's favorite new
money laundering sweet heart, Bernard Madoff? OK, we all know that Madoff
robbed countless investors of a crap-load of pennies (or $65 billion for the
mathematically ordinary) through a Ponzi scheme. Is that really a big deal?
It's just money, right?
But what many people don't know about Madoff is that he was planning
a surprise birthday party for his long-time wife, Ruth (what a handsome woman).
From what I hear,there was supposed to be cake, punch, a ball pit, pizza, live music and even an open arcade. How AWESOME does that sound?
Following the uncovering of his Ponzi scheme and the ensuing legal
troubles, however, Madoff was forced to do away with the ball pit and the
live music. What's an open arcade without live Jock Jams?
I know what you're thinking: it's not like Madoff doesn't already
have ALL of Kevin Bacon's money, anyway. So he should spend it, right?
WRONG. If he still throws Ruth that rockin' party, he looks selfish, greedy
and reckless. But doesn't he already have billions of dollars? If he goes
half ass on this thing, it's going to reflect poorly on his image. He'll
look stingy and tightfisted. UGHH. What to do, what to do. Damned if you do,
and damned if you don't.
That brings me to my next victim: the New York Yankees. Those poor
bastards don't stand a chance. After a summer in which the Steinbrenners dropped an unprecedented $384,500,000(during a recession) on four players (pitcher Andy Pettitte: $5.5 million, pitcher C.C. Sabathia: $135.5 million, pitcher A.J. Burnett: $82.5 million and slugger Mark Teixeira: $180 million), it's hard to imagine any scenario where the Yankees lose a single game.
I'm putting my money on the Yankees becoming the first team in Major League Baseball history to win every single game (162-0).Seriously. If God wanted to put together a first-team All-Divine baseball squad, my guess is that the Bronx Bombers would be an exact replica. With Captain Derek Jeter, who Head Coach Joe Girardi is thinking of moving to the top of the batting order, back in full swing, catcher Jorge Posada back from the shoulder injury that side-lined him for most of last year, the clutch-hitting Teixeira and a revamped bullpen, does it really matter that Alex Rodriguez will be out for 6-9 weeks after getting surgery on his right hip? I almost feel bad for opposing teams, like I should broadcast a commercial with little baby David Otiz (Boston Red Sox) wrapped in a tickle-me-pink blanket.
"You can't imagine the pain that little David has gone through, but he can imagine the beating heart that exists inside of you. And for just 10 cents a day, you can feed, clothe and care for David. Won't you please call and donate now?"
But at the end of the season, when push comes to shove, the Bombers are damned if they win and damned if they lose. Think about it...
Let's say the Yanks do finish the regular season at 162-0 and they do go on to sweep the playoffs, winning their first World Series since beating the New York Mets 4-1 in the 2000 Fall Classic. Well isn't that what they're supposed to do? Didn't they spend $384,500,000 on four players this off-season. Compare that to the $21,836,500 that the Florida Marlins spent on their entire team all of last year. Or the $43,820,598 that the defending American League Champion Tampa Bay Rays spent on their entire team. Pinning the Yankees against the Marlins is like pinning America against Vietnam (oh, wait). The fact is, if payroll has anything to do with success (which Yanks fans know all too well hasn't lately), the Yankees are SUPPOSED to win the World Series this year.
So when they do win, writers, fans and critics will all be letting go a collective, "big deal, they spent enough to bail the country out of debt."
BUT, BUT, BUT, what happens if the Yankees lose?
"You mean to tell me that the Yankees spent enough to feed millions of David Ortiz-es for all of eternity and they still couldn't pull out a win?"
Think about it... The Yankees vs. the MLB?
"UNITED STATES FINDS MILITARY SUCCESS IN IRAQI LEGO AIR BASE"
Well.....Duhhhhhhhhhhh

Breaking Old Habits

Like a newly-transgendered female who forgets to sit down in the ladies' room or a longtime-stripper suddenly turned fire chief; old habits die hard, sometimes too hard. Anyone who watched the Knicks get blown out by the Devin Harris-less New Jersey Nets last night in what was to date, arguably the most important game of the season, was quickly reminded of the new-millennium Knick fan's daily reality: utter disgust, inevitable disappointment and
unequivocal anguish are more unavoidable than sexual advances at the Neverland Ranch (Michael, for the 100th time, your bed is monster-free).

Last night, old habits thought to have been long-abolished by new Head Coach Mike D'Antoni resurrected like the stench of cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey clinging to your hoodie until the next wash cycle. An ugly relapse to past transgressions was reminiscent of VH1's Celebrity Sober House-- it was truly hard to watch (the only difference is that while no one expects Andy Dick to live a life of moderate respectability, Knick fans, perhaps imprudently, still cling to a glimmer of Nate Robinson-induced hope).

Watching the Knicks go 2-27 from beyond the arc, 11-19 from the foul line, give up 15 turnovers and 115 points (29 for Vice Carter) to a team missing its top player (point guard Devin Harris) was tough to do. Still, however, their biggest failure was one that did not show up in the box score. Their biggest failure was one that we have not seen the knicks commit since Stephon Marbury's exile.

The biggest disappointment was that the Knicks showed a complete lack of effort, the likes of which we hadn't yet seen this season. The Nets, on their first game back on the east coast after a brief trip west figured to be lackadaisical, especially without Harris, their top gun.
The Knicks pounced on the Nets in the first quarter and headed into the first intermission with a 30-27 lead. It was all downhill from there.
Knick fans can handle losses-- we're used to them. It's the way New York lost last night, however, that was most unsettling. Showing a lack of defensive pride and overall effort in a game that had huge playoff implications is inexcusable.
Old habits die hard and last night, the Knicks of old crept back into our collective memory.

Stephon Marbury: the face of workmanship

I still remember my first day of work like it was eight months ago-- a wet behind the ears, fresh-face college kid on the threshold of journalistic success. I was more than on my way.

Somebody pinch me. Writing for the Verona-Cedar Grove Times seemed like an impossible reality. I grew up in New Jersey, so to be back in my home state after a brief stint in Ithaca, NY writing for all of my fans was a dream come true.

After showing up on day-one, I wasted no time in alienating my co-workers.

"I am the best writer in this office," I boldly announced. "By the way, my name is Steve," I said as I pulled my Ninja Turtles lunch box out of my black Italian leather Simpsons brief case.

After only a few days in the office, however, it was clear for one reason or another that my co-workers were not particularly fond of me. A public feud with my senior editor further divided the break room and it wasn't long before trade rumors began to surface (the Verona-Cedar Grove Times reportedly tried to send me to the Montclair Times in return for cold cuts and office supplies--the Montclair Times rejected).

So I finished out the high school football season and waited to field offers from other newspapers-- none came. I subsequently fired my agent and deleted my account on Monster.com.

An aura of hope surrounded my return to the office as I headed into the basketball season.

That's before I sexually harassed my editorial assistant.

"I thought you said you wanted to be a star," I said to her, caressing her knee in the back of my Hyundai.

A media circus ensued and my reputation as a sports writer was quickly deteriorating.

On December 24, 2008, the North Jersey Media Group signed a new senior editor to take the place of my former editor. It didn't take long for my new boss to make his intentions clear-- the Times was heading in a new direction.

"It's not fair to ask a writer of Steve's caliber to do spot writing," my boss told reporters. I was thus relegated to the bench.

"We want Schim" chants from my fans had no impact on my boss, and the bench is where I remained for the rest of the season before being released with the opportunity to sign with other newspapers.

Oops. I always get myself confused with former New York Knicks point guard Stephon Marbury. Terrible habit, I know. If nothing else, however, my confusion does provide enlightenment for the few remaining Steph fans out there-- and believe me, there are plenty.

First, let me ask you Starbury fans, did you eat glue as a kid? I just need to gather some background information on your past before I can properly diagnose the various mental disorders hindering your ability to view things as a fully functional human being. Also, are your parents related in any way (is your mom also your aunt)?

As we've done in the past, let's look at Starbury's track record in New York. After several LOSING seasons, he told reporters that he was the best point guard in the league (remember when my co-workers got pissed off at me for saying I was the best writer in the office). After Marbury's bold statement, the Knicks went on a losing streak of titanic proportions.

Marbury publicly feuded with Larry Brown, Lenny Wilkins, Tim Thomas, Quentin Richardson, Kurt Thomas, and every other leader thrown into the Knick locker room.

Oh, and remember when Steph sexually harassed New York Knicks intern Kathleen Decker?

Truth is, aside from the fact that Steph has always been a loser (the one playoff appearance throughout his entire NBA tenure came in 2004 during his first season as a Knick), he is a bad worker. Is it acceptable for a reporter to sexually violate his assistant, alienate his co-workers and fight with his bosses? Why then, amongst you Steph fans anyway, is it OK for him to commit such unprofessional acts (all while losing games I might add)?

Not that winning games would make Marbury's behavior any more appropriate, but he never did. So to those of you who have said Head Coach Mike D'Antoni is at fault for not even trying to use his star point guard, let me ask you this: why would he? Marbury has been here since 2004 and he has never experienced a winning season. OK, he's talented, but clearly, talent is not getting the Knicks wins. D'Antoni made it clear that this was a new era for the orange and blue when he sat Steph. Throwing him into the mix would only result in more of the same.

So to you Knick fans upset with the way D'Antoni handled the Marbury situation and angry with his exile to Bean Town--why don't you just move to Boston, throw on a Kevin Youkilis jersey and root for the Celtics? WAKE UP!

*My Name is...*

It was like finding out that Santa Claus is fake—and so is Pam Anderson—on the same day. Bruce lip-synced his Super Bowl performance (I know, it wasn’t his choice, but still…) and Elvis was never really a king.
On February 9, Major League Baseball’s supposed savior, Alex Rodriguez, confirmed in an interview with ESPN’s Peter Gammons that Saturday’s Sports Illustrated report of him testing positive for two illegal performance enhancing drugs in 2003 was true. Say it ain’t so Alex.
Baseball’s golden boy isn’t looking so golden anymore (aside from the frosted tips adorning his hairline) and suddenly, neither is baseball. The steroid crucible that has plagued the MLB since the San Mateo Narcotics Task Force raided Bay Area Laboratory Co-Operative’s (BALCO) facilities to find a potluck of performance enhancing drugs—steroids and growth hormones—has nearly destroyed the game’s credibility. Professional baseball players, formerly known as the key holders of “America’s great past time,” are nothing but cheaters and liars. How are Mark McGwire’s fabricated biceps any different than National Basketball Association referee Tim Donaghy’s propensity to gamble on games that he officiated? And why is it that while the NBA has made every possible attempt to rid its reputation of such corruption, Bud Selig and the MLB are content on “cleaning up baseball” with an asterisk? Did that make steroids disappear? Can we see some retribution, please?
In response to the MLB’s response, I have decided to use the asterisk in my own everyday encounters.
“Hey Schim, that chick you went home with last night had more facial hair than my truck driving uncle and we call him sideburns at family get-togethers.”
“That’s ok. I put an Asterisk on it this morning.”
“Mr. Schimmel, you’re fired. You can’t buy Jack Daniels for the CEO’s seventeen-year-old daughter.
“Can I get a pass on this one? I’ll use the asterisk.”
“Stephen! What are you doing? Take off my dress!”
“Mom, it’s not what it looks like. See- asterisk.”
How can anyone respect a league sustained entirely by the asterisk? Why even play the game if everything is a fake? It’s like watching the WWF. Personally, I’d just as soon open a Playboy.
I’m taking a stand here. I know I’m getting off topic, but if baseball can do it, so can I. But back to A-rod.
Yes, A-rod, the man whose power had formerly been justified by a picture perfect swing. The anti-asterisk, the Mr. Clean of baseball, is nothing more than a tiny star next to a name. The saddest thing is, he was one of the sports few remaining hopes. Now that his use of steroids is out in the open, they might as well change the name of the league to the *MLB.
I suppose, however, that keeping the asterisk next to every name does create jobs, and in this job market, we can’t take anything for granted—somebody’s gotta implement all those tiny dots into the system.
Still, making it the *MLB would help to avoid misunderstandings.
“Hi, my name is *Steve Schimmel. I touch kids.”
“You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” I’d add with a smile. “If I were you, I’d consider moving.”
At least then you wouldn’t have to go through the charade of deciding whether or not to trust me—or hire me as a sitter for the weekend.
All I’m saying is that the game of baseball, as we knew it for the past 20 years, was built entirely on false pretenses. How can anyone have any respect for the record book, baseball’s bible, when it’s filled with lies, cheaters and prostitution? Would anyone go to church on Sundays if it were suddenly discovered that Jesus had invisible water skis?
As much as I enjoyed the seemingly annual Yankee World Series appearances that I grew up with, I wish that we could somehow erase the last two decades of Major League Baseball. But we can’t. We have to live with it, the way Selig has. I’m not a conspiracy–theory kind of guy, but what was the one thing that saved baseball after the 1994 players strike? It was the long ball. McGwire and Sammy Sosa’s race for Roger Maris’ previous record of 61 home runs in1998 suddenly “juiced” the league, resurrecting it from the doldrums. Is it possible that Selig knowingly overlooked a few things for the sake of the sport? Who knows? Jose Canseco (not exactly the picture of integrity) has attested to that fact though.
The point of all this, in some roundabout way, is that with Rodriguez’s departure from cleanliness, so too comes the league’s dying hope. Basically, *-rod proved that even the game’s “purest” stars are not always what they seem. Derek Jeter, we need you. Please don’t follow suit.
Oh, by the way. You can’t really believe a thing that I have said here because I took steroids in 2001. Or perhaps more appropriately—every dictionary that I have ever read was stolen.
Love,
*Steve Schimmel

The New York Giants??! Get Your Beer Goggles Off!

Here's to the end of another cold winter week in New York City. Eddy Curry, we hardly knew ye' and LET'S GO CARDS (who would'a thought)!The weekend is here, so let the good times roll. Another booze infested, maldigestive two days (or three depending on how gainfully unemployed you are) of brew chugging, stomach pumping shenanigans. Yep, just another weekend on 20-something Boulevard.
Here's to you dudes...
What's in store for the weekend?Most of you have no doubt attended your fair of frat parties, sorority mixers and five-dollar-all-you-can-drink- Busch Light bashes. For those of you who haven't…well… let me enlighten you (but first, is it too early to call shotty on your liver).
A five dollar bill (or other sundry cast of analogous items determined by the bouncer to be of equal value—use your imagination) handed over at the door will earn you entry into the all-you-can-drink keg buffet line. Sorry, no Stella or Blue Moon here. We only serve the best (Milwaukee's Best actually). Enter the zoo at your own risk, but look out for fly-by beer pongers, scantly dressed, card-carrying sexually transmitted disease proprietors, shell-necklace-wearing, acoustic guitar plucking bros, ice louges, beer funnelers, belligerent drunks and of course, the token vomit queen.
Walk hard through the festivities my son, but do so with caution, for beer goggles await you. For all of you unaware of the the power of the goggle, the incorrective lenses apply as follows: there's a reason we don't drink and drive. Alcohol is an all-natural source of judgement impairment. It makes you see things that aren't there, say things you shouldn't say, and love people that you probably shouldn't love. Not good. So why should a drinker consume and bring a romantic companion back to one's room (you might unwittingly wind up operating heavy machinery--OH THAT's why it says that on the back of the can).
The goggles don't hit you at once (and ladies, you're just as guilty). The typical frat bro will walk into a party, take a once-around lap probing the room for prospective draft picks and begin a night of drinking. That's when you spot two first-rounders conversing with a bench warmer. The benchee isn't bad—aside from that giant atom's apple anyway. She begins to look better with every Yeager bomb. 12 beers later, the two lottery picks are nowhere to be found. The party is clearing out and the crop of women seems to have dried up. Suddenly, atom's apple is queen of the gorganites and she whisks you away back to your bunk bed (don't let this be you kids).
I vision a world safer for our children, one that rallies enough supporters in congress to amend a new law to the constitution, effectively banning drinking and well… you know. Until then, lock your children away, google a list of all possible suspects in your neighborhood and be wary of what is known throughout college campuses abound, simply as the curse.
This year, the New York Football Giants were queens of the gorganites, nothing but the last female left at a party full of drunk frat bros.
Allow me to explain...
The Big Blue walked into the 2008-09 season escorted by two Maxim cover girls-- after all, the Giants were the reigning Super Bowl Champs. Haven't you ever noticed that hype increases attraction? Like when a mildly attractive specimen walks into a party surrounded by "10's"? Similarly, the Giants began the season surrounded by an inherent degree of unearned, yet completely explicable excitement.
New York's 4-0 start didn't discourage the hype. Neither did the way they were winning. Before the start of week six, the Giants had outscored their opponents by a total of 127-49, a staggering statistic that showcased New York's supposed prowess on both sides of the ball. The Giants' first victory was a 16-7 win over the Washington Red Skins, a team who looked lost in the season-opener. Week two showed Big Blue's ability to beat up on the League's perennial door mat St. Louis Rams, with a 41-13 victory. Next up, the reigning champs defeated the league-embarrassment Cincinnati Bengals with a 26-23 win (they had to do it in over time). After a bye in week four, the Giants then went on to beat the Seattle Sea Hawks, 44-6.
Why is it that after four weeks, New York fans and football analysts alike failed to notice that the Giants still hadn't played anyone of legit respectability? Their first loss came in week five to the previously hapless Cleveland Browns, and from then on out, the schedule didn't get much more difficult. The Giants did nothing early to merit such high expectations.
Next, take a look around the league-- as I have been saying since early November, this is not exactly a landmark year for the NFL. In fact, as far as team power rankings are concerned, this is probably the weakest year in recent memory for the NFL. Think about it: the New England Patriots were Tom Brady-less, and thus, relegated to the land of mere mortals. The Dallas Cowboys-- need I say more? The Indianapolis Colts were for much of the season, defunct, until resurrecting in December for a late-season playoff push. The Philadelphia Eagles were a non-event until the Cowboys blew it. The San Diego Chargers lost a lot with the decline of "superstar" running back LaDainian Tomlinson, and the Green Bay Packers threw away the season when they let Brett Favre throw for the New Jerk Jets (that's a whole 'nother story). My point: Any year when the Tennessee Titans can "steam roll" into the NFL playoffs with a number-one seed is a down year for the NFL. The Miami Dolphins? The Atlanta Falcons? Come on DOG! They were competitive by default this year (sorry Greg, sorry Stu). And alas, the Arizona Cardinals are in the National Football League Super Bowl. Are they a real team? Most people in the United States probably didn't even know of the franchise's existence until filling out the inter-office Super Bowl pool yesterday. "The Cad-nals?? Are they new?"
Thus, my theory is further qualified. In the land of she-males, she with the smallest amount of male is queen (or King).
In the dwindling hours of yet another frat party, even the chick with the bald spot can look attractive by comparison when the right amount of beer goggles are involved. The Giants, who failed to pass every late-season test thrown their way (the Cowboys, the Vikings and the Eagles twice) lost four of their last five games. They stumbled into the playoffs because of what an easy schedule and weak competition allowed, and they proved that they cannot win without suspended wide receiver Plaxico Burress.
In 2008, the Giants were prom queen at the TKA formal. Only problem is, they were the only ones left at the party and everyone was wearing their goggles.

2008: A year in review

‘Twas the night before New Years, and here’s a look back
At Roger Clemons’ steroids and Travis Henry’s crack
The Redeem Team got the Gold, Michael Phelps got the bling
And even Kevin Garnet, well he finally got a ring

The Yankees were low, Isiah Thomas got high
Sabathia says hello, but Marbury bids goodbye
And Plax can beat safeties, just not glock revolvers
The Giants beat the Patriots, with Tyree’s catch over the shoulder

Stuck in the Garden, the Knicks still can’t win
Hungering for Lebron like starving kids in Beijing,
From Favre’s interceptions to D’antoni’s interjection
Just ask the Steibrenner’s, this is no recession

So here’s to 2008, and although it might be gone
We remember Antonio pierce getting off, and our governor getting it on
So I bid you one last wish, before 2009 begins
Happy new year to all, and a party like Jaba Chamberlain’s (but seriously, don’t drink and drive)

2008, we hardly knew ye'. I've never been one for goodbyes, but I'll give this one a shot--from the stock market's plummet and Governor Spitzer's rise (get your mind in the gutter), to bombings in Georgia and a new quarterback in Atlanta. It's safe to say that 2008 saw it's fare share of news. So here's a look back at the top five most memorable New York sports moments in 2008-- as I see them anyway.

5) Broadway Brett Jets into New York
Screw the starving kids, what about those poor Jets? Perennially the "little brother" of the National Football League, we watch them struggle mightily, rise majestically to the brink of success, and eventually crash and burn like the helpless child that they represent. It's been that way for longer than most Jet fans care to remember.
But wait... what? Brett Favre's renouncing his retirement? And Green Bay has removed the welcome mat? And he might land in the New York green and white? Hold up...
After a stint in Green Bay that lasted upwards of 15 years. the gunslinger finally decided to hang up the cleats in 2008 following an unforgettable season marred by a 23-20 loss to the New York Giants (eventual Super Bowl Champions) in the NFC Championship game. But apparently, Favre wasn't ready to move to Boca and dip into his retirement funds (Brett was first in line to buy a Washington Wizards Michael Jordan jersey in 2001-- not to mention Jay-Z's Kingdom Come in 2006).
When in July, it became clear that Favre was not part of Green Bay's future plans, the former Packer wrote a letter to the organization asking for his unconditional release-- thus began a media circus more controversial than a Mel Gibson rendition of Schindler's List. Much to the delight of Jet fans everywhere, however, the Hall of Fame quarterback eventually landed in "Jets Stadium" following an August 7 trade that cost the Jets a conditional fourth round pick in the 2009 draft (and indirectly, Chad Pennington, the 2008 comeback player of the year).
Unfortunately for the Jets, however, Favre's stint in New York was as disappointing as a virgin's prom night-- and just as short. After a promising 8-3 start that left many New Yorkers calling for a "Subway Super Bowl," thus began a downward slide that resulted in a disappointing 9-7 season, another playoff absence and an immediate release of the once-heralded Head Coach Eric Mangini. Doesn't this seem like an annual charade? Maybe the Jets and Mets are victim to the same sick disease-- an inability to close out seasons. Regardless of the outcome, Farve's journey to New York was indeed a memorable one.

4) Rangers Burn Devils
Just two years after suffering a four-game sweep at the hands of the New Jersey Devils in the 2006 playoffs, the New York Rangers trekked into the second round of the 2008 playoffs. Following a five-game victory over New Jersey, becoming the first team in history to win three road games against the Devils in a playoff series, the Rangers found redemption.
After a long hiatus from post-season glory, the Rangers finally restored splendor to the Garden. This after a roster overhaul that included the induction of two of the most talented centers on the market, former Devil Scott Gomez and Chris Drury, prior to the start of the season.
New York took the first two games at the Rock (Prudential Center) and then returned to New York to split the next two, giving the Rangers a commanding 3-1 lead. The Rangers won the fifth and final game back in New Jersey. The Rangers were one of the only two major professional New York sports teams to make the playoffs in 2008 (with the New York Giants).

3) A New York Spending Spree

What's a recession to a Steinbrenner? Lavish hotels and caviar? Try CC Sabathia and Mark Teixeira. No need to warm up by the stove or unplug the clocks at night-- just ask uncle George. He's dropped more green in one summer than most lumberjacks do in a lifetime.
Never had a team held such a stronghold over the league's biggest free agents, but if money talks, the Steinbrenners can't shut up. Just ask Sabathia ($161 million over 7 years), Teixeira ($180 million over 8 years), or A.J. Burnett ($82.5 million over 5 years)-- talk about a supermarket sweep,
After the Bombers' string of 13 consecutive playoff appearances came to an end last autumn, the Steinbrenners did some serious soul searching. And just what did they find? More money than many countries gross annually? Who is Bernard Madoff?
The Yankees' most recent off-season was characterized by the richest spending spree in the history of professional sports. This was a memorable off-season for the Bronx Bombers.

2) New York Nicks Isiah Thomas

Remember when the Knicks were good? I know, I wasn't alive when the 10 Commandments were published either. For us Knick fans, glory at the Garden seems an ancient memory, a blur that may have occurred some time between Optimus Prime's glorious conception and President Clinton's administration of copulation. But if you can, sift through the puddles of beer (most often caused by Knick losses) clogging your brain and think back to the days when Lord Ewing and King Oakley patrolled the paint; when John Starks kissed the Garden floor and Pat Riley had an endless canvas of flowing mahogany hair. Luckily for the 90s' Knicks, Isiah Thomas was still in the league (as a player), for part of the decade anyway. Unfortunately for the Knicks, however, Patrick Ewing's exile caused an eventual desperation-driven roster (and culture) overhaul. From the induction of Glen Rice to the draft of Frederic Weis, to the injury-plagued Allan Houston and the eventual hiring of Isiah Thomas as Knicks General Manager. Oh, what a millennium it's been for the Blue and Orange.
For argument's sake, let's call Thomas the proverbial "straw that broke Paris Hilton's bed" (or was that Nick Carter, Jason Shaw, Stavros Niarchos, Benji Madden, Rick Salomon, ...well, you get the picture).. When the Knicks hired Thomas on December 22, 2003, they welcomed with him a history of blunders that included the destruction of the Continental Basketball Association (CBA). Why was Isiah the right choice for the knicks? ??? ???????... Still waiting...

The new general manager wasted no time in shaking things up, bringing in troubled point guard Stephon Marbury to right the ship just two weeks later. Ooops.

By the end of the 2005-06 season, the Knicks had the highest payroll in the league and the second worst record. Apparently what Thomas didn't realize was that, just because something looks good on paper, doesn't mean that it's going to pan out.
With Isiah at the helm, the Knicks went through more transformations than Andy Dick (just minus the success-- I know). Why was Isiah the right candidate for replacing Larry Brown in June of 2006? ??? ????... Still waiting.

Despite predicting a future championship, Thomas never once led the team to the playoffs as coach and in 2008, one night after New York tied a franchise-record with 59 losses, he was relieved of his duties (too bad he already crapped the bed).

Apparently there is someone listening to prayers. For the Knicks, that man's been new Head Coach Mike D'antoni. Although they are still not a winning team (Rome wasn't build in a day, and Thomas' Knicks couldn't be destroyed in one either-- although Donnie Walsh, the knew GM, is doing his best), the Knicks are at least watchable again.

HALLALUJAH!!

1) 1 Giant Loss

1)18-1! 18-1! 18-1! 18 wins and 1 GIANT loss!
Where were you when JFK was assassinated? What about when the Giants won Super Bowl XLII (My apologies for the gross comparison)?
Perhaps the most memorable victory in New York sports history (at least since my conception), the Big Blue stormed Scottsdale, Arizona for what was arguably the most improbable win of all time.
On Feb, 3, 2008, the heavily discounted Giants took on the previously undefeated New England Patriots. Up against what many considered to be the best team in the history of the NFL and more obstacles than a pair of multi-sexual Siamese twins in a JC Penny dressing room, few gave the Big Blue a chance. The Giants fed off of the doubt.
Most said that the Giants weren't even supposed to be there. But impenetrable defense by a stalwart line kept Tom Brady and his chins at bay, setting up what was an unforgettable 17-14 Giant victory.
New York fed off of the Dec. 29 three-point season-finale loss that came at the hands of New England. Never had their been such a productive loss, and the Giants steamrolled into the playoffs.
Then there was the Super Bowl.
After both teams combined for ten points in the first three quarters, New England leading 7-3 heading into the final period, NY took the lead following a go-ahead David Tyree touchdown with 11 minutes remaining. New England responded with a touchdown of their own, taking a 14-10 lead with less than three minutes to go.
That's when it happened-- the drive heard 'round the world (not Helen Keller's joy ride to the super market). Catalyzed by a fourth-and-short conversion, a poised Eli Manning and the grace of football's divine spirits, the Giants moved down field toward Super Bowl immortality.
Then it happened-- the most insane play of all time. On third-and-five, from their own 44-yard line with 1:15 to play, Manning escaped a plethora of New England linemen to find Tyree who made a leaping one-handed/one-helmet catch on the Patriot-24-yard line. Four plays later, giants wide receiver Plaxico Burress caught the winning touchdown in the corner of the end zone. What else can I really say? I can't imagine the berth of my first child being any better.


Happy New Year to all and to all a memorable 2009. To all of those not on this list, don't feel slighted because there's always next year (sorry Plax. I was never one for guns). Only time will tell what 2009 has in store, but I'm feelin' lucky. What do ya' say NYC?

Yankee General Manager Brian Cashman Frequents the Red Light District

Try walking across Flatbush (Brooklyn) at 3:30 in the morning-- without protection. I dare you. It'd be like walking through Patpong, Bangkok (an ORIGINAL RED LIGHT DISTRICT)-- without... well... protection. Either way, you're liable to come to the following morning with an empty wallet and a few inexplicable bumps.
So if the hearsay about either scenario is true (I swear it's hearsay), both entirely hypothetical situations are pretty damn dangerous.
Apparently, New York Yankees General Manager Brian Cashman has spent some time spelunking Thailand's red light district (or getting roughed up in Flatbush) because the addition of former Los Angeles Angel Mark Teixeira makes the previously defunct Yankee lineup more dangerous than a sword fight with Lorene Bobbit. And more expensive then a night with her freaky twin sister.
That's right-- the 28-year-old Teixeira is packing his bags for the Bronx and Pin Stripe fans are already anticipating a return to the Fall Classic (all courtesy of a $180 million flight). The Yanks can only hope, however, that Teixeira didn't have to check his BIG BAT (one that the Count himself couldn't even stack up against-- sorry, that one was too easy) at LAX. After all, even Big League Chew is a code orange commodity these days.
If he did somehow manage to sneak his lumber past security, the new Yankee Stadium will be greeted with more long balls than a certain Curb Your Enthusiasm episode (I hope Brian Giovinazzi won't be the only one to catch this reference).
Along with a stellar defensive reputation, the former Angel is lugging with him a 2008 .303 batting average, 33 home runs, 121 runs batted in, a .552 slugging percentage (.200 points higher than the league average) and a big-situation ability that the Yankees have been in desperate need of.
Of course, there is always the possibility that the bright lights of Broadway will cramp the new Yankee's style (see Jason Giambi, Carl Pavano, or Chuck Knoblauch. Even Alex Rodriguez has fallen victim to some pretty dismal slumps in the Bronx). New York seems to have a way of getting to athletes the way few other cities can (unless, of course, you're former Indiana Pacer Reggie Miller).
IF Teixeira can manage to grace Yankee Manager Joe Girardi with the bat that the Steinbrenners bargained for, the New York lineup suddenly seems dangerous again. That is, of course, IF Captain Derek Jeter can wake up after an uncharacteristically poor 2008 campaign, A-Rod doesn't move to Argentina with Evita-- I mean, Madonna, Jorge Posada returns to old form, and Xavier Nady can replicate last season's success. As Yankee fans know all to well, however, all of those are MAJOR IFs. Perhaps only time will tell.The 100 RBIs that free agent Bobby Abreu (one of last year's few bright spots) will be exporting from New York won't help, but a revamped lineup might be the only remedy.
One thing is for sure though-- IF Teixeira DOES come through with the bat that he carried with him for most of the 2008 season, Pin Stripe fans can expect a playoff berth. The slugger's ability to hit from both sides of the plate makes him a threat at any spot in the lineup and his prowess from above the pitch count make him a nightmare match-up for opposing pitchers. Throw him behind A-Rod and the Bronx will be burning once again this summer (hopefully just not the way Cashman was after his trip to Thailand).
So yes, the addition of Teixeira makes the Yankees more dangerous than a protection-less trip to Flatbush (or Thailand). Cashman has spent more this past summer than Eliot Spitzer did in one year as governor (including money spent on his own prostitution escapades).
CC Sabathia's $161 million contract, A.J. Burnett's $82.5 million and Teixeira's $180 million make this summer the richest in New York sports history, but will the Bombers see the benefits? The addition of Teixeira certainly fills one major need for the previously hapless Yankee offense. What do you think New York?