Tagged: Steinbrenner

The Filibuster

Steinbrenner says the Yankees aren’t for sale. A few billion would be tough to turn down though, so do you believe him?

Ferndale, MD

I still remember the first time I missed out on my first billion.  In fact, it was just a couple days ago when no one took me up on my brilliant idea to go mine asteroids.  Seriously people, where are your priorities?

Selling the Yankees, though?  A team with a new park, an amazing history and a corporate and real fan-base unmatched anywhere else in baseball?  If the Dodgers are worth $2.175 billion, a team with broke-down finances and a fickle group of fans, you can only imagine that the Yankees would fetch a price well north of that.

But, the Yankees are not for sale, at least not according to Hal Steinbrenner.  And honestly, I don’t blame him.  For a guy like Frank McCourt, the Dodgers were simply a means to an end.  For a family like the Steinbrenners, the Yankees are a way of life.  The Yankees without a Steinbrenner would be a like a snickers without the peanuts.  Sure, it’s still tasty but it’s no longer a Snickers.  It’s a Milky Way.

So yeah, I believe Hal.  Even if I can’t help but picturing him responding to the question of selling the Yankees with a soothing, “I’m sorry, Dave.  I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“Dave, this conversation can serve no purpose anymore. Goodbye.”

The other part of the equation is that although the Yankees may be worth $2.5 billion today, just imagine how much they’ll be worth in another few years.  The Yankees are more than a baseball team, they’re a global brand easily recognizable on the hats of millions of people around the world.  There is practically no large city in the world where you can walk around without seeing someone wearing a Yankees’ cap.  Hell, holding on to the Yankees isn’t even speculation.  It’s just plain and simple good sense.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are going to have to be content with our possible billion dollar schemes.  For me, that means dreaming of space asteroids and slowly going mad.  “Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it.”


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The Filibuster

Who is more despised by the RSBS guys?  Yankees or Cubs.  I haven’t figured it out yet. 

Brad T.
Springfield, IL


indy_snake.jpgMaybe I’ll begin by asking a question of my own. Who was a more insignificant president, Benjamin Harrison or Millard Fillmore? Or perhaps it makes more sense to ask something slightly different, like, who was a more brutal dictator, Stalin or Mao? The point I’m trying to make here, Brad, is that there isn’t necessarily an answer to your question. Wanting to know who is more despised, the Yankees or the Cubs, is like asking what does Indiana Jones hate more, bugs or snakes.

When it comes down to it, the Yankees and Cubs aren’t all that different. They have both been spending money like a hobo in a liquor store, dropping every last penny on whatever rot-gut might make them warm for a second. Milton Bradley is just a poor man’s Jason Giambi once you leave Bradley’s temper and Giambi’s juice out of it. And up until this season, the results were pretty much the same. Make the playoffs, head to the playoffs, crash out of the playoffs.

The equation shifted a bit this year, though. Now, it’s safer to say that the Yankees are Stalin to the Cubs’ Hitler. It was all going so well for the Cubs until it all fell apart. And the Yankees may have almost driven their base over the edge with the profligate spending and tax-payer financed multi-billion dollar ballpark but, like Stalin, nothing brings the masses back in line quite like victory.

All that being said, I still don’t know as though I can say that one of those two teams is more despised here at RSBS than the other. I can say, though, that after thinking about it a bit more, although Indiana Jones really didn’t like bugs, he hated snakes. And the name Steinbrenner sure does have a sibilant sound to it, just like a snake. Coincidence? Probably, but I’m willing to forgo the formalities and declare the Yankees the more despicable.


What to do While You Wait for the Trip to End

dockellis.jpgToday is a sad day. Dock Ellis is dead. Now, to be completely honest, I had no idea who Dock Ellis even was but his greatest accomplishment makes him more than a Hall of Famer in my book. Not only did he throw a no-hitter, he did it while tripping the lights fantastic under the influence of LSD. That, my friends, is impressive. I think my favorite quote from his description of the game is, “They say I had about
three to four fielding chances. I remember diving out of the way of a
ball I thought was a line drive. I jumped, but the ball wasn’t hit
hard and never reached me.”

That’s the beauty of drugs. Things are never quite what they seem. We expect a little bit more from our politicians, though. For instance, this whole Blago corruption case is slowly turning into a long and really bad trip. Is he a big d-bag? I think that one goes without saying. Is he guilty of corruption? Well, that’s kind of open to debate. But will it be over anytime soon? Only if you consider Easter to be soon.

So what do we do in the meantime? If you live in the Midwest, there’s a pretty simple answer. You get out your snow shovels and try to figure out where you parked your car. If you live in DC, you continue debating the relative merits of renting out your apartment for the inauguration or sticking around for one of the most historic events in our nation’s history. And if you’re a Steinbrenner, you keep trying to recession-proof MLB by throwing money around like it’s going out of style.

However, you could also follow Dock’s example and drop some acid while hoping you don’t suddenly find out that you’re involved in a major sporting event this evening. Your choice.


Ill Winds in December

sword in the stone.jpgCan I take just a minute to gloat here? No, not about that. That’s more humbling than anything. No, I want to gloat because I got an early Christmas present! That’s right, Kyle Farnsworth is leaving Detroit and heading off to beautiful Kansas City! My only real question is, did he cry this time? So long and good riddance.

But, that being said, I would like to thank all of our readers for coming back, even on days when I was writing instead of Jeff. I know my manner of arranging words and sentences into (somewhat) coherent thoughts may not be as silky smooth as Jeff’s Ozzie Smith-like turns of phrase but it’s still gratifying to check in and see that people are actually commenting. In fact, I’ll say right here and now that one of my New Year’s resolutions is to occasionally respond to those comments. It might even happen, too.

However, despite all the good cheer in the air, an ill wind blows in from Mordor on the Hudson carrying with it the stench of sulfur and brimstone. This must mean it’s the time of year when the Steinbrenners open up their checkbook and start wheeling and dealing. But there’s a peculiar, additional scent this time and an odd baseball shaped head that haunts my dreams. Yes, the Mets have created their own version of Hades out in Queens and the wailing you hear is the sound of MLB GMs wondering where they are going to find relief for sagging bullpens.

Is there a hero who can save us? Will our white knight prevent this Gotham centered frenzy? Well, I’m not sure yet but here at RSBS we will be tirelessly tracking down the answers and looking out for some minor-league prospect who can pull the sword from the stone and slay these dragons. Hopefully they can also get rid of some these mixed metaphors because they’re killing me.


The Filibuster

As we near the end of the baseball season, it has become more and
more likely that the Yankees will not make the playoffs. Do you think
this heralds a return to their mid-80’s slump or is it merely a
one-year fluke? And should we even care?

— Allen


yankees on fire.jpg
For someone who hates the Yankees as much as my colleague Allen Krause
does, he sure does spend an awful lot of time judging, thinking,
ranting and philosophizing about them.  The Yankees have been such a hot topic for Mr. Krause this season that I am beginning to wonder if he’s projecting such hatred to disguise his inner-lust.

Seeing that Mr. Krause is but a part-time Tigers fan
with the characteristic always-complaining-about-something Red Sox
attitude, I wouldn’t be surprised if he finds the Yankees impending
doom just a tiny bit sad. 

For the rest of us, we have the famous words of Mike Royko:

Hating the Yankees is as American as pizza pie, unwed mothers, and cheating on your income tax.”

It’s hard to argue with the validity of that statement.  In fact,
hating the Yankees has become somewhat of a sport of its own.  And no
longer is it regulated to the Red Sox, Rays, Blue Jays and Orioles. 
No.  It goes much further than that, so far that my friend’s five year
old kid — who has been raised in a Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles
household — causes a rapture of laughter at dinner parties when asked:
“What’s your favorite team” and he replies: “I HATE DOSE DUM YANKEES!”

The signs of our times…

All hating aside, it still hasn’t settled in yet that the Yankees will
be watching post-season baseball on t.v. just like the rest of us
regular joes.  It’s kind of cool really.  But I don’t think this is
something that is going to last.  Sure, the Yankees roster will be
collecting Social Security soon and yeah, their pitching is a mess, but
the dollar$ are $till in the bank and a$ we all know: It’$ all about
the Benjamin$, baby

So I do look for them to get back on track during the off-season and start making moves that will put them back in contention. 

At the same time, it would be irresponsible of me not to mention the
three major warning signs that could perhaps lead one to believe that
another mid-80’s funk is in order. 

Warning Sign #1:

Thumbnail image for jason giambi.jpgThumbnail image for don mattingly 2.jpg

Warning Sign #2:
For the first time since the post-Torre era, the managerial position is no longer safe.  Giardi, if not careful, may get the Billy Martin treatment because… (continue reading below)

Warning Sign #3:

Hank Steinbrenner is related to George Steinbrenner.  If the Steinbrenners are anything, they are ruthlessly arrogant, pompous, outspoken, loquacious, ranting, raving, maniacal blowhards who don’t really think things through.  The Joba drama, Hughes, Kennedy… all mishandled and misguided by the front office of one Steinbrenner. 

As long as someone with that name is steering that ship, there’s always a chance that it will slam into the big iceberg known as colossal failure.

In the end, Mr. Krause, you shouldn’t really be focussing on the Yankees’ downfall this season.  You should be focussing on that embarrassing sub-.500 milllionare’s club known as the Detroit Tigers.

Now THAT’S what I call failure.

Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.