Would we be able to turn "SlapRod" into "SheaRod?"
We’re supposed to evangelize. That means reaching out to places that are uncomfortable or even downright disgusting.
I’m talking about places like Yankee Stadium.
Yes, we’ve posted about the bad things that happen to Mets players once they are either banished or lured over to the Evil Empire. You can read it here.
And we’ve rejoiced in the glory of the players whose lives and careers we’ve helped by allowing them to remove the stain of Yankeeness and replace it with the joy that can only come from being a Met. That one is here.
Now it’s time to take that next step. We need to look and see if there any current or recent Yankees worthy of such redemption.
It’s not easy and it’s not pretty. Some of them are bad people. But if they can send pastors to preach in prisons, we can send missionaries to the Bronx.
But we can’t just take anyone. Some of these guys are just too far gone, beyond redemption.
Let’s take a look:
Weaver can't face the shame of his Yankeeness.
Jorge Posada: Nope. Can’t do it. For one thing, he’s a mutant. The guy has no chin. Don’t take my word for it, take a look. And our rotation is distracted enough without having to look in for the signs and get lost in thought about why the catcher has no chin and if there is some kind of prosthetic device holding his mask on.
Jeff Weaver: Weaver’s an interesting case. He sucked in Detroit, where all they expect of a pitcher is to have two functioning arms. Then again, they did sign Troy Percival last year, so that standard might have dropped, too. He sucked with the Yanks because he allegedly couldn’t handle the pressure of the big city. He was so-so in LA where fans aren’t around by the time he melts down in the seventh inning. Some of the writers are talking this guy up. I think we should pass.
Mariano Rivera: He’s a cyborg with no soul. Unredeemable.
Gary Sheffield: A tough one. This might be the first year in a decade where the Sheff-to-the-Mets rumors didn’t fire up the hot stove league. And he’s Gooden’s nephew, so that makes him almost family. But he’s also played for the Braves, which means he’s been exposed to both Derek Jeter and Chipper Jones. But I suppose if he wouldn’t mind spelling Victor Diaz in right once in a while he might be useful.
No, no, no.
Derek Jeter: Speaking of the evil one. Let’s face it; Jeter’s stardom is a combination of the Yankee hype machine, Jeremy Giambi’s refusal to slide, the ridiculous short porch in right, cheesy credit card ads and gullible New York sportswriters. Put him on the Royals and there wouldn’t even be a discussion about putting him in the team’s Hall of Fame, much less Cooperstown. And since he’s Mr. Yankee, there would be no chance of converting him.
Alex Rodriguez: How did this guy go from being the best player in baseball to the biggest whiner in the game? And what’s with the Hamlet-esque indecision over playing in the World Classic? Dude, if you’re going to hit like you did in the playoffs – and I believe your own description was “like a dog” – what makes you think we want you representing our country? But with all that baggage, there might be good in him deep down. Remember all that talk in 2000 about him wanting to be “SheaRod?” I’m not saying it wouldn’t be a project. But this might be a guy we can turn around.
Mike Mussina: How did Moose go from being one of the best pitchers in the American League to just another stinking Yankee pitcher? Does he even have a pulse?
Randy Johnson: I'm not saying the Unit doesn't have issues. He does. I'm not saying I'd trust him with my iPod. But he's tempting because he's only got a year of Yankee taint to scrub off. A possibility.
Roger Clemens: OK, we are venturing into some very dangerous turf here. It would take a Darth Vader-esque “Luke, you were right, there was good in me” deathbed conversion. Clemens’ crimes against Methood are great. There’s the horrid Piazza beaning. There’s the infamous bat-tossing against the aforementioned Mets hero. There’s the magic powers in his butt that somehow steered the long-awaited knockdown pitch away from him. Hey, I know that sounds strange. But can Shawn Estes’ control really be that bad? How could he possibly miss? Clearly there was something going on. Then there’s the grooving of pitches to American League cronies in the first inning of the 2004 All-Star game. There’s the complete abuse of the Toronto fans that supported him for two years and were thanked by a rather smelly secret deal that delivered him to the Bronx. But there are some other things to consider. The Mets drafted him originally. His Yankee tenure was much ballyhooed, but really wasn’t all that long. It might take a good, long exorcism, like sitting through a decade’s worth of Kiner’s Korners, to get it done.
In Other Words...
It's not a baseball blog, but I love Nobody Cares About Joe. When he's not faking his own death, my friend from Columbus is laugh out loud funny.