Anyway, is this a new ILX policy, that we shouldn't be posting about stupid stuff people say? There goes 63% of all posting.
You see how incredibly timely my post was? In the midst of a Jays meltdown today, Soto came up with two out, runners on second and third, score 4-4. He had the discipline to work a full-count walk, including a called strike that wasn't even close. Which brought Judge up, who knocked in two (also shook off a terrible strike call). If Soto isn't Soto, he probably chases and makes the third out.
He got a late start, yeah--didn't start until their fourth game, and he was fine (one run in 4.1 innings. 11 runs in his last 5 innings since. Lots of stories about lost velocity. (I mean "velo.")
Stroman's second return start in Toronto today, up against Gausman, who's having a miserable year thus far.
No--he's talking about something happening now, and not especially insightfully. I'm drawing the comparison to what Votto went through 15 years ago.
I don't know who Sal Licata is, but he's taken it upon himself to revive the whole Joey Votto thing from 15 years ago, complaining about Soto being selective when there are runs that need to be knocked in. (From what I've seen in a cursory look around, he gets lots of pushback via comments.)
They're extinct--just doesn't work with guys making this much money. Which is good; having played for such coaches when I was younger, it's a way of behaving that should be extinct.
Having said that, when I see something like this, some irrational nostalgia for the Herzog/Weaver/Martin style of managing lingers.
Don't think I knew this (from Posnanski's obit):
In a nine-day span in June of 1949, the New York Yankees signed two 17-year-old prospects from the Midwest; one a shortstop out of a town called Commerce and the other an outfielder from a place called Belleville. The Yankees gave each of them a $1,500 signing bonus and something to dream about.
The shortstop was a kid named Mickey Mantle.
The outfielder was Rellie Herzog. Well, Rellie was a nickname. His full name was Dorrel Norman Elvert Herzog. A few months later, while playing in an Oklahoma town called McAlester, a local sportscaster noticed his light hair and gave him a new nickname.
And that’s how he became Whitey Herzog.
Minus the golf scores, he was Andy Warhol.
"He kept a meticulous diary, noting almost everyone he spoke with, everything he ate, the TV shows he watched and even his golf scores."
Search Again... Next...