I asked my 22 year old nephew, a Long Island college student, what he thought were the biggest New York sports stories of recent years. He mentioned "Lin-sanity", Jeremy Lin's remarkable debut with the New York Knicks in 2012. Lin was unstoppable in his first 12 games and electrified the long-suffering New York basketball world. I said, "how about right now?" My nephew answered, "Judge." Aaron Judge, New York Yankees new arrival in right field. Judge at 6'7" has the dimensions to be a one-of-a-kind phenomenon. He has already stunned the hearts and minds of the most cynical New Yorker by hitting 30 home runs in his rookie year before the All-Star game. Judge broke Joe DiMaggio's home run's by a rookie record and it only took him half a season! Aaron Judge struggles now with a slump, but already set the tone for kicking Yankee baseball and New York sports to a higher level of excitement.
So, just how do you become a New York Yankee legend? The best way is by belting home runs-- long home runs, hitting clutch home runs and doing so year-after-year in a New York uniform. After the heroic Babe Ruth, the template for transcendent sluggers, you get Joe DiMaggio. DiMaggion brings us to Post WWII era, the modern era of sports.
Top 3 Modern Sluggers creating Yankee history:
Mickey Mantle-- 18 years with Yankees (competition with Roger Maris-- 1961)
Roger Maris-- 7 years with Yankees (broke Ruth's record-- 61 homers in 1961)
Reggie Jackson-- 5 years (Mr. October, World Series champions 1977&1978)
Certainly other great power hitters have come down the pike for the New York Yankees. Alex Rodriguez arrived on the scene in 2004 and brought high hopes. His home run production happened mainly during the regular season and was marred by poor post-season performance and steroid use.
Mickey Mantle had many transcendent moments in his career-long tenure with the Yankees, including a Triple Crown season in 1956. Longtime Yankee fans will never his mano-a-mano competition with Roger Maris to reach or surpass Babe Ruth's record on 60 homers. Though Mantle came in second, with 54 homers that year, the drama playing out between two teammates to enter the rarefied air of Babe Ruth kept fans transfixed to the scene unfolding in Yankee stadium. The sustained drama, covering an entire season, makes Mantle the most legendary home run hero of the modern era. Roger Maris's relatively short stay with the Yankees, along with the fall-off in production in every other year with the Yanks, leaves him behind "The Mick." Maris will forever be honored as a pioneer, the first player willing to dare tread on the legacy of the Bambino.
Reggie Jackson may be the greatest clutch hitter of all-time, certainly the greatest clutch home run hitter of all-time. His nickname, "Mr. October," says it all and maybe that's the best nickname every bestowed upon an active player. Reggie lead the team to two world championship in 5 short years, along with a third World Series appearance. Jackson's amazing feat of hitting 3 home runs in game 6 of the 1977 World Series stands as a transcendent moment, never to be forgotten by the Yankee faithful. Jackson had a flair for the dramatic off the field-- and his charged relationship to manager Billy Martin and George Steinbrenner adds fuel to Jackson's charged baseball reputation in the Big Apple. Reggie could handle pressure of all types and the big moment appealed him to him, the spotlight pulled the best out of Mr. October.
Aaron Judge stunned the baseball world with an amazing Home Run Derby this season-- poking 57 home runs out of the park. The achievement seemed to throw him off. He created his own monster in terms of expectations for future performance. He immediately slipped into a hitting funk. Judge has the admiration of his fellow players and fans. This differentiates him from Alex Rodriguez. Mickey Mantle had a self-deprecating, country boy,.... "aw shucks" sense of humor about himself. Mickey kept a sense of balance despite the New York pressure cooker. Alcohol was Mickey's demon, maybe his way to decompress. Somehow, heavy drinking and all, he kept the New York Yankees in good competitive stead and grew his legend through it all.
Showing posts with label Mickey Mantle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mickey Mantle. Show all posts
Thursday, August 24, 2017
Friday, December 20, 2013
Baseball in the Fifties
Baseball is not an improvisational game. The players' actions are guided along well-defined boundaries. You cannot hit the ball until the pitcher delivers it you. You have to run within the baselines and you go from first base to second base to third and home plate. No other options exist. Basketball and football are different. Basketball involves improvisation every time down the court. Football games, dense with planned and scripted plays, have constant adjustments as the offensive plan encounters an unpredictable defense. Think Johnny Manziel being chased out of the pocket and looking downfield for new opportunities or deciding to run if that's the best choice. Baseball gives you no similar freedom.
Ted Williams, considered by many to be the best hitter of all-time, fit well into the careful science of the game of baseball. He studied hitting in all of its intricacy and programmed his body to function as a refined baseball hitting machine. Watching Ken Burns' extensive study of baseball last night, I got a kick out of Mickey Mantle's comment on his conversation with Ted Williams in an All-Star game clubhouse and the results of Ted explaining all the things Mantle could do to improve his swing. Mantle said "I went 0 for 30 after the All-Star game." Apparently, Mantle approached hitting in a more instinctive way, less formulaic way. Mantle's swing was compact, a killing machine of twitch muscle and violent beauty. Williams's swing had more poetry maybe, a loose-gaited stroke, with great extension and rhythm. Williams discussed his last bat in the Ken Burns video, a home run at the end of the 1960 season, and revealed his ability to create in the moment. Jack Fisher, the Baltimore Orioles pitcher had put a fastball past him. Williams surmised Fisher figured he could put another fastball past the 42 year old batter. Williams waited on the fastball and blasted it into the Red Sox bullpen. The other stories related to Wiliams' last at bat, 1) the small crowd of 10,000 fans on hand that day or 2) the slugger's stubborn refusal to tip his hat for the standing ovation, pale in comparison to William's ability to stay focused and relaxed enough to engineer a great at-bat on his very last chance at the plate. Even the scientific hitter has to respond to the reality of the moment.
Two other episodes portrayed in the Fifties chapter of Burns' baseball masterpiece had much to offer about individual performance and the ability of a single play and a single player to determine the fate of an entire franchise. Willie Mays playing for the then New York Giants made the great over-the-shoulder catch against Vic Wertz, Cleveland Indians, in Game Two of the 1954 World Series and the Giants swept the series. Maybe the catch convinced Cleveland the series was over. Apparently Willie had the habit, probably unconscious, of thumping his glove as he pursued a fly ball whenever he anticipated making the catch.The Burns' video shows Willie thumping his glove on the way to making possibly the greatest catch in history. Catching an outfield fly ball while running full speed may be the closest thing baseball gets to an improvisational moment. The outfielder must move his body with balletic skill to get his body moving with sufficient speed and grace to make the play-- much like a basketball player driving to the basket around, over and through the opposing players.
The other most impressive play from the Fifties though had to be the Sandy Amoros catch, the gem that propelled the 1955 Brooklyn Dodgers to a World Series victory and a world championship over the New York Yankees, their nemesis. Amoros raced towards the left field foul line to chase down a line shot hit by Yoga Berra, a sure double that would have spoiled Johnny Podres' shutout and probably turned the tide against the Dodgers. Sandy's long, brilliant run to make the catch elevated the Brooklyn team into believers and got the Yankee curse off their backs. Sandy moved with an improvisational beauty on the play, creating an opportunity where none seemed to exist. He helped the franchise with that catch as much as the other more famous Dodgers-- Jackie Robinson, Duke Snider, Roy Campanella, Don Newcombe, Gil Hodges and others. Maybe without that catch you don't get the championships claimed by Los Angeles in the decades to follow. I believe a single play can alter the entire trajectory of an organization-- and the lack of a defining play can hinder the less fortunate franchise.
There was significantly more footage of Willie Mays than a player like Sandy Amoros. Mays' movements down the base paths had the quality of young colt, a freedom of movement even within the great restrictions of the prescribed boundaries. Much has been said about Mays' joy for the game and Burns' video emphasizes Willie Mays' preternatural understanding of the entire field of play. Maybe this awareness freed him to move with greater confidence, comfort and relaxation.
Ted Williams, considered by many to be the best hitter of all-time, fit well into the careful science of the game of baseball. He studied hitting in all of its intricacy and programmed his body to function as a refined baseball hitting machine. Watching Ken Burns' extensive study of baseball last night, I got a kick out of Mickey Mantle's comment on his conversation with Ted Williams in an All-Star game clubhouse and the results of Ted explaining all the things Mantle could do to improve his swing. Mantle said "I went 0 for 30 after the All-Star game." Apparently, Mantle approached hitting in a more instinctive way, less formulaic way. Mantle's swing was compact, a killing machine of twitch muscle and violent beauty. Williams's swing had more poetry maybe, a loose-gaited stroke, with great extension and rhythm. Williams discussed his last bat in the Ken Burns video, a home run at the end of the 1960 season, and revealed his ability to create in the moment. Jack Fisher, the Baltimore Orioles pitcher had put a fastball past him. Williams surmised Fisher figured he could put another fastball past the 42 year old batter. Williams waited on the fastball and blasted it into the Red Sox bullpen. The other stories related to Wiliams' last at bat, 1) the small crowd of 10,000 fans on hand that day or 2) the slugger's stubborn refusal to tip his hat for the standing ovation, pale in comparison to William's ability to stay focused and relaxed enough to engineer a great at-bat on his very last chance at the plate. Even the scientific hitter has to respond to the reality of the moment.
Two other episodes portrayed in the Fifties chapter of Burns' baseball masterpiece had much to offer about individual performance and the ability of a single play and a single player to determine the fate of an entire franchise. Willie Mays playing for the then New York Giants made the great over-the-shoulder catch against Vic Wertz, Cleveland Indians, in Game Two of the 1954 World Series and the Giants swept the series. Maybe the catch convinced Cleveland the series was over. Apparently Willie had the habit, probably unconscious, of thumping his glove as he pursued a fly ball whenever he anticipated making the catch.The Burns' video shows Willie thumping his glove on the way to making possibly the greatest catch in history. Catching an outfield fly ball while running full speed may be the closest thing baseball gets to an improvisational moment. The outfielder must move his body with balletic skill to get his body moving with sufficient speed and grace to make the play-- much like a basketball player driving to the basket around, over and through the opposing players.
The other most impressive play from the Fifties though had to be the Sandy Amoros catch, the gem that propelled the 1955 Brooklyn Dodgers to a World Series victory and a world championship over the New York Yankees, their nemesis. Amoros raced towards the left field foul line to chase down a line shot hit by Yoga Berra, a sure double that would have spoiled Johnny Podres' shutout and probably turned the tide against the Dodgers. Sandy's long, brilliant run to make the catch elevated the Brooklyn team into believers and got the Yankee curse off their backs. Sandy moved with an improvisational beauty on the play, creating an opportunity where none seemed to exist. He helped the franchise with that catch as much as the other more famous Dodgers-- Jackie Robinson, Duke Snider, Roy Campanella, Don Newcombe, Gil Hodges and others. Maybe without that catch you don't get the championships claimed by Los Angeles in the decades to follow. I believe a single play can alter the entire trajectory of an organization-- and the lack of a defining play can hinder the less fortunate franchise.
There was significantly more footage of Willie Mays than a player like Sandy Amoros. Mays' movements down the base paths had the quality of young colt, a freedom of movement even within the great restrictions of the prescribed boundaries. Much has been said about Mays' joy for the game and Burns' video emphasizes Willie Mays' preternatural understanding of the entire field of play. Maybe this awareness freed him to move with greater confidence, comfort and relaxation.
Labels:
baseball,
Ken Burns,
Mickey Mantle,
Sandy Amoros,
Ted Williams,
Willie Mays
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