Front Row Seating and a Farewell to Cano

I showered twice Saturday, once of my own choosing, once not. My morning shower was part of my daily ablutions. Nothing unusual about that.

My second shower took place shortly after 8 pm as I sat in the first row of the Playwrights Horizons main stage theater on 42nd Street in Manhattan. Last week, you may recall, I recounted one of the hazards of front row theater seats when Rosencrantz, or was it Guildenstern, slipped off the stage onto my lap during a performance of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.

Saturday night I was initiated into another peril of Row A seating. One of the actors was particularly energetic in his vocalizations. He projected more than just words. I was shocked the first time he appeared before me and sprayed forth from the lip of the stage. I was more or less ready the next time he stood before me. I cowered in my seat to reduce my exposure.

Fortunately, he next chose to deliver a long, excitable monologue from the center of the edge of the stage, affording me a profile scan of his features and an arced view of his projectile strength. To those sitting before him it must have felt as if they had a front row seat at Sea World without the benefit of plastic raincoats to protect them from Shamu’s exuberance.

It's an unfortunate byproduct of elocution for some actors. Indeed, in one scene where the sprayer and another thespian held drinks as they stood face to face, I observed the second actor place his right hand across the mouth of his glass to shield it from any more liquid enhancing his drink.

All in all, just another night at the theater.

It was a New York Yankees baseball cap like many others, different only in that it was a promotional hat embroidered with the name of the sponsor—Canon—across the center of the back. Its potential struck me immediately. I gifted the hat to our daughter-in-law Allison who realized right away that with a little deft unstitching she could change the Canon hat into an homage to her favorite Yankee, Robinson Cano. 

Despite living in the Boston area for the last 16 years, Allison remains a die-hard Yankees fan. I tried to text or call whenever Cano made a highlight reel play, in the field or at bat, that contributed to a Yankees win. There won’t be anymore of those calls now that Cano has opted to sign a free agency deal with the Seattle Mariners for 10 years and a reported $240 million. 

I’ll miss seeing Cano turn double plays with seemingly little effort, race into short right field with his back to the diamond to basket catch a fly ball as it dropped over his shoulder, range far to his right to snare a hot shot up the middle and accurately cannonball a throw to first base to deny a batter a base hit. I’ll miss how easily he could flick his bat and deposit a single or double to left field, or when the team really needed it, pull a pitch into the right field seats for a home run. I wish him success, though not when he’s facing the Yankees.   

I can’t blame him for turning down the New York proposal of seven years for $175 million. Nor can I fault the Yankees for not matching the Mariners’ offer. Baseball is a business. Cano is a superstar. But even before Cano was a superstar, before he made his first million-dollar-a-year salary, Cano revealed the true measure of his impact as a human being. Cano bought an ambulance for his impoverished home town in the Dominican Republic. He has since donated eight ambulances, medical supplies, paramedic crew training and children's toys and has plans to finance and build a hospital. 

Competitive Balance

Once the World Series ends, the battle for Cliff Lee begins anew.

For those not familiar with Mr. Lee, he is among the pre-eminent pitchers in baseball. He currently hones his craft with the Texas Rangers, the team that twice beat out the NY Yankees when it comes to Lee. Last July the Seattle Mariners, Lee’s team at the beginning of the season, decided to trade him. The Yankees and Rangers pitched the Mariners various players in return for Lee. Seattle chose the Texas barbecue, not the NY strip (strike one). Texas then walloped the Yanks in the American League pennant series that concluded last Friday night in so convincing a manner it left no doubt which was the better team (that last clause was hard for a Yankee fan to write, but my journalism training impressed upon me the professional ethics of delivering all the news objectively, even when it hurts). Lee pitched just one game, a shutout gem (strike two).

Before my team’s ignominious defeat, I was indifferent, even slightly opposed, to the idea of spending Steinbrenner millions to sign Lee to a multi-year contract after he becomes a free agent when the World Series with the San Francisco Giants concludes. I reasoned that while I like to see New York win, I prefer they do it in competitive contests, not one-sided acclimations. It would be much more gratifying to win if the other team had a pitcher like Cliff Lee on its staff, as the Philadelphia Phillies did last year when they lost to the Yankees. How sweet that victory was.

But now that the Bronx Bummers looked so futile, scoring just 19 runs to Texas’s 38 during their six game series, I’m all for opening the coffers to buy Lee’s services. I believe baseball demands such action in the name of competitive balance. Let’s face it—without Lee pitching for the Yankees it is hard to imagine them winning another trip to the World Series in the foreseeable future. Derek, A-Rod, Mo, Andy and Jorge are not getting any younger. They still have lots of fingers with no rings to wear (A-Rod, especially, has four more empty fingers than the others to adorn). The Yankees need Lee and his shut down pitching because they just ain’t winning by scoring 1 or 2 runs a game in the post-season as once they face any team except the Minneapolis Twins, Yankee hurlers are serving up meatballs other teams are devouring.

This is not just a Yankee fan’s rant. Baseball needs New York in the World Series, and by NY I don’t mean the Mets. The Yanks bring out the passion in their fans and in the Yankee haters around the league. Other teams and their fans find it much more enjoyable and rewarding if they beat the Yanks, than say, the Cleveland Indians, or the Tampa Bay Rays. No team’s loss provides the imprimatur of victory more so than the Yankees.

So for the sake of competitive balance, the Yanks must sign Lee or winter’s chill will come to the Bronx while the calendar still says October for the next few years.

Of course, Lee might decide to stay in Texas where he is idolized, has a younger, hungrier team surrounding him, is closer to his hometown of Benton, Ark., is recognized as the ace of the pitching staff and wouldn’t have to compete in New York with his friend C.C. Sabathia for that honorific. If he chooses to stay with the Rangers, that would be strike three. In shutting out the Yanks on two hits last week, Lee struck out 13. It don’t look good.