I found last night’s loss to the Red Sox in the finale to be the most depressing in a long time. Yes, there were the frustrations during the West Coast road trip, and yes, Saturday night’s game was no fun at all, but this one? Please. The Yankees couldn’t score off Doubront – not even with all the walks he gave up. Nothing. Martin and Swisher were the only ones with actual pulses, although Jeter, Jones and Ichiro had hits apiece. It was a pathetic offensive display. The comeback was exciting, but what good is a comeback if you don’t finish the job?
The media is focusing on Ciriaco’s go-ahead bloop, but the game was lost on Robertson’s walk to Saltawhateverhisnameis (their catcher who usually strikes out). You can’t issue leadoff walks to people and expect to win ballgames. When will Robertson get that through his head? He was doing it before he got hurt and he’s doing it again now. Why can’t you throw strikes and get them to swing and miss?
Okay, I’m done talking to Robertson. As I said at the top, this one was on the offense. They had chances and blew them.
The only good news? Besides another good performance by Kuroda? We don’t have to keep looking at various camera angles of Bobby Valentine for awhile. Whether it was FOX on Saturday or ESPN last night, there seemed to be a need to continually cut away to reaction shots of him. He’s just a manager. Not that big a deal. The only thing that struck me about him was how alone he always is. Have you noticed? Every other manager, including our own, sits or stands in the dugout surrounded by his guys – his coaches, his players, his peeps. Valentine has no peeps. Nobody’s there with him – ever. He’s got to be the loneliest manager on the planet.