I can't get no relief...

What a weekend. Great davening, a handful of great short plays, met some great cool new folks, fun with knucklehead, lots of music, football with schedule1 and mk. And we'll get to all that soon, I promise. But something's on my mind.

I know the group of you that come semi-regularly to this blog are here for political insight, or music reviews, my poems, and whatnot. But the temperature is comfortable, the kids are back in school, the Chaggim are approaching, as is the Feast of San Gennaro, and that means one thing.

Baseball.
Playoff Baseball.
Yankees Playoff Baseball.

(okay, I guess that's three things)

So, October is not hear yet. And I don't care what anyone says, the Yanks Magic Number is FOUR. When it's ZERO, I'll celebrate. But it's not over yet. And dropping three of four to those ass-clowns this weekend was not acceptable. Like the let down in the 2003 World Series, the team seems to have lost its edge this weekend.

Now, I realize that when Joe Torre leaves his tenure as Yankees manager, he'll have accumulated a record that could be put into arguments about the all time Yanks manages (Stengel, Huggins, McCarthy). And who can complain about 4 World Series titles, 6 Al Pennants, 10 Division Titles and a wild card? Not a bad curriculum vitae.

But there have always been little things that have just frustrated me about his managing style. To the life of me, I've never understood how he makes his pitching decisions. Particularly relief. The Yankees bullpen is overworked, and yet, isntead of resting our overworked relievers who no can get no one out, Joe keeps calling on the same horses who's arms are dead, and frankly, we need them for the playoffs.

Old friend of mine Cliff Concoran over at Bronx Banter covered this Torre story last year with the release of Steve Karsay. It's worth a read if you're a Yankees fan reading the blog. I wish someone would send it to Joe.