The House The Boss Built

This writer had a chance a few weeks ago to get an up-close view of the new Yankee Stadium being built next to the legendary coliseum that Ruth built, where the Iron Horse took his last gallop and where Joe D. hit safely in many of his 56 straight games.

It'll forever be the home of baseball's last legitimate, single-season home run record.

It's where Billy Martin managed on five different occasions; where his drinking partner,
the Mick, became an icon who made men cry like Elvis' female fanatics; where the "straw that stirred" became what Alex Rodriguez still has not; where it became cool to have nicknames like Whitey, Yogi, Lefty, DeeJay, Bucky, Sparky and now Joba.

It's the only place in the world to house 26 different world championship teams.
And if the New York Giants had stopped Johnny Unitas in the Greatest Game Ever Played, maybe there would be 27.

You know it. You don't need reminders. Especially if you're a Yankee-hater. In fact, one construction worker named Gino hates the Yankees so much, he tried burying a replica jersey in the new stadium to curse the Bombers.

He may as well have buried a Brian Cashman poster there while he was at it.

But many Yankee fans are upset there's a new stadium being built. As if the ghosts can't travel across the street. As if mystique and aura will be auctioned off alongside the most famous bleacher seats in sports.

There will never be another Yankee Stadium like the one that'll host one last midsummer classic in July.

And in some ways, thank the Lord.

If you sit in the upper deck, you'll lose track of balls hit into your respective outfield corner. When it comes time to go on a food or beer run, don't look down the stadium's deep, cavernous aisles without a parachute.

If you have the pleasure of enjoying the game from box seats, make sure your brother sitting next to you isn't claustrophobic.

Heck, the seats at Pilot Field-North Americare Park-Dunn Tire Park are better for a ballgame than those tar heel blue benches.

Albeit, legendary benches.

Come to think of it, if the Yankee Stadium seats are the same color as those at Rich-Ralph Wilson Stadium.

If the Bills can't spend money like the Washington Redskins, or convert its press box to luxury seating, maybe the Steinbrenners will cut them a deal for a section of seats from Yankee Stadium and maybe the Bills may actually make the playoffs this year!

Because the Blue Jays certainly haven't won anything in 15 years, if you get the wink-wink, nudge-nudge.

(Riiight. Yeeeeesssss. Gooooood.)

To quote Brian McNamee and countless other Nueva Yorkers, Yankee Stadium "is what it is." You don't have to 'splain it. Nothing will take its place.

But when you finally get your up-close glimpse of the home of future Yankee lore, you'll think you're walking into Heaven.

You may even hallucinate those ghosts of Yankee yesteryear. But the crackerjacks will still taste like crackerjacks.

The Hebrew Nationals on New England rolls will still taste like Hebrew Nationals on New England Rolls.

The schnozberries will still taste like schnozberries.

And if you're a Yankee fan, hopefully they won't play like these current Yankees have started three of their last four seasons.

But for those of you still in denial about leaving Yankee Stadium for a billion dollar monstrosity, there is divine precedence for this.

No, not the Babe.

No, not Mantle, Maris, Martin, McCarthy, Dickey, DiMaggio, Stengel, Steinbrenner, or the Yankees most famous Designated Hebrew, Ron Blomberg.

How about the Bible?

Here's two verses for comfort:

Isaiah 65:17-18: "For behold, I create new heavens and a new earth: and the former shall not be remembered, nor come into mind. But BE YE GLAD and rejoice for ever in that which I create: for behold I create Jerusalem a rejoicing, and her people a joy.

Those verses were chosen from the Old Testament to encapsulate as many readers as possible. And Yankee fans get a bonus: nobody will forget those old memories across the street.

Figuratively (not sacrelgiously) speaking, the new heaven could be the new Yankee Stadium.

The new earth could be the new Citi Field where those mere mortals, the Mets, will play next season.

And the new Jerusalem: that could mean an eternity of future celebrations.

So rejoice, and be glad baseball fans! Because when you see this stadium--especially if you're (dare say) old enough to remember Yankee Stadium--it'll remind you more of the old, old Yankee Stadium than the current one does.

And if you're too young, the reflection off the golden letters that spell YANKEE STADIUM is enough to knock your cap off and genuflect a big interlocking N-Y before you hand your ticket to an usher.

This fan can't wait until he finally gets to see it on TV, let alone walk into the house The Boss built.

And if it's as glorious as advertised, I can only imagine what walking into Heaven will be like.

Both of them.

Free Willie? You're An Idiot.

(NOTE: This piece was originally published Monday May 26th.)

As of right now, Willie Randolph is the manager of the New York Mets.

That statement SHOULD hold true come September.

And if Mets owners Fred and Jeff Wilpon decide to part ways with the embattled Metropolitans' skipper, they need to be fair cut ties with their general manager, Omar Minaya as well.

But they won't.

The Mets are slumping and not living up to expectations. But after last season's collapse where they dropped a seven-game lead with 17 to play, its easier for New York's "other" team to fire Randolph than admit they took big chances signing hitters and pitchers that were closer to qualifying for AARP benefits than their collective primes back when they unleashed their "Our Team, Our Time" slogan for 2006.

That's the downside of reloading with a bunch of has-beens who get inked to long-term deals for that one big run.

The Mets are lucky they are where they are right now. Period.

After 2004, they axed manager Art Howe, whose best success with the Oakland Athletics came as one of general manager Billy Beane's Moneyball muppets. Randolph came to the rescue and managed the Mets to an 83-79 record--15 games better than Howe's previous campaign.

Then the Mets teased their fans by advancing to the 2006 NLCS, despite the fact that they were missing their ace, Pedro Martinez, their best post- season pitcher, Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez, their best middle-reliever, Duaner Sanchez, and were throwing former Pittsburgh Pirates castoffs such as Oliver Perez.

Yes, those Pirates.

Of course, it had to be Willie's fault his closer, Billy Wagner, left his manager with little faith that fateful series with the St. Louis Cardinals, having blown a 6-6 tie in the ninth inning of Game Two. Randolph chose to throw the reliable Aaron Heilman in the ninth inning of Game Seven, whose one mistake to (of all hitters) Yadier Molina propelled the Cardinals into the World Series.

Randolph took the blame for not winning a pennant in 2006 with a patchwork rotation of a future Hall-of-Famer (Tom Glavine), a rookie (John Maine), a castoff (Perez) and a maligned journeyman (Steve Trachsel).

That NLCS coupled with last season's collapse makes it easier to blame Randolph for this season's mediocre Mets.

It must be Randolph's fault Pedro the Great has spent more time on the DL the last three years than in the rotation. What? Did Willie force him into a Wii marathon in the clubhouse?

It's Willie's problem that Oil of Olay is only meant to hide Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez's age? Where's Barry Bonds' flaxseed oil when you need it?

Right. It's the Mets' manager who somehow can't motivate Carlos Delgado to hit above .220, or that Moises Alou is only a great hitter when he's not vacationing on the disabled list. It's his problem the Mets' farm system is ranked next to their cross-town neighbors in the over-hyped/overrated department.

All this, off set by those brilliant trades for Johan Santana, Ryan Church and Brian Schneider. Man, that Omar is such a genius. It has to be Willie's fault.

Willie's fault that Jose Reyes, David Wright and Carlos Beltran aren't hitting to their potential. Willie's fault that Mike Pelfrey, Nelson Figueroa and Cladio Vargas have combined for 17 of their staff's 48 starts.

Maybe the Wilpons have a point. But it's hard for a manager to win games with aging journeyman jocks like Luis Castillo, Damion Easley, and Endy Chavez, and Delgado, and without Pedro, El Duque and Alou.

In 2006, the Mets surpassed expectations (managed by Randolph) and they've been paying for it ever since. Minaya finds the talent and Randolph manages it. It's the way most ballclubs operate unless you're the A's or the Jays.

But while Minaya rushed to plug-in aging former all-stars, Mets fans forgot what Yankee fans learned in the 1980's:

They can all get old at once.

That's not Willie's fault.

Unfortunately, it's his biggest problem.

The only thing Mets fans can blame Randolph for is believing he could confide his thoughts in a sportswriter--Ian O'Connor of the Bergen (NJ) Record--who has now become the center of a controversial New York baseball story for the second time since last October.

O'Connor was the lone writer who interviewed George Steinbrenner during last season's ALDS when Yankees lost in four games to the Cleveland Indians. Steinbrenner, who typically only speaks through his publicist, Howard Rubenstein, discussed Joe Torre's job status saying, "His job is on the line … I think we're paying him a lot of money. He's the highest-paid manager in baseball, so I don't think we'd take him back if we don't win this series."

Last Sunday, O'Conner asked Randolph if race may have played a part in his critique as Mets' manager. Randolph responded.

"Is it racial? Huh? It smells a little bit."

Even though an elderly line-up and a patchwork pitching staff may be Willie's problems, they're hardly Willie's fault.

Unfortunately, he spoke to soon, to the wrong writer. Sure, any writer would have printed the same thing.

But its hard to believe Willie would have given the same story to any writer other than O'Connor. Even if he did have a tape recorder in his hand.

Sadly, where Minaya should get as much, if not, most of the blame, Willie's frustrations are now public, and have made him a target of Mets fans and ownership and an easy scapegoat for his general manager.

Huh? It smells a little bit.