I can't believe i've hoodwinked this whole city!
I hate the Yankees. That's my bias. I hate that they've become synonymous with New York tourism. They have become the quintessential tourist team. People come to New York and catch a game in the Bronx like they're catching a Broadway show. It's a cartoon. It's like one of those big movies where you can't believe how they've assembled all these celebs to be in the same movie, and the movie sucks. They're like the Greater New York area team; like dudes in upstate New York, and Connecticut and parts of rural Pennsylvania closer to NY than Philly root for the "Bronx Bombers". It's a sham basically. A joke. Where were you all in the 80's with Steve Balboni and Butch Hobson and fuckin Barry Foote for crying out loud; HoF shoe-in Bill Sample, Henry Cotto and your boy Rex Hudler? The Yanks were lucky to draw 10,000 people a game in the mid 80's ! Goddamn Oscar Azocar and Jesse Barfield! and don't forget Mike Blowers! or #47 Rod Scurry!
Joe Torre is a sham. From what I've seen of the guy on TV and heard on radio, I like him; I think he's a good dude but is he a great manager? No. He was handed the Yankees; he was in the right place, at the right time. In fact in the dictionary his face should come up when you look up the word: luck.
Torre should be wearing a ski mask and holding a gun when he's handed his paycheck every week.
Before he landed in the Bronx your boy was bouncing around the league, odd-jobbin' like a kid with one eye in a small town. Torre managed the Mets through the 1981 season. He then took over as manager of the Braves and drove them into the ground.
Joe then spent 5 seasons as a television analyst for the California Angels. Then in 1990 he was tapped to manage the Cardinals. There he posted a mediocre record at best. Torre ended his illustrious career as a National League manager with a losing record: 1,003 loses with only 894 wins. Your boy Joe stunk as a manager. Stunk.
Your boy stepped in shit and came to the manage the New York Yankees in November of '95. It was like being asked to play second guitar for Led Zeppelin in 1972. Joe Torre sat back, ate sunflower seeds and did nothing. And that's what he's basically done ever since.
When shit goes wrong, Torre is the patsy. When they won three straight World Series titles from 1998-2000, and the American League pennants in 2001 and 2003, Torre was the man. Since then, he's been the patsy. But no one realises, the dude is a sham. He is not responsible for their success or their failure. The dude was just at the right place at the right time. All he's done since 1995 is eat sunflower seats and give press conferences.
Shall we raise his number to the rafters because he lets the players play? Is that some sort of fascinating psychology? Has Joe Torre reinvented the wheel as we know and love it so? The team has been on autopilot since he got there. His main responsibility has been to stay awake during the games in the dugout, but thats really all he's gotta do to sustain the illusion that he is somehow steering this team one way or the other.
If anything the coaches he's hired have helped: Mel Stottlemyre, Don "Sugar Ray" Zimmer, and Willie Randolph. And it was former Yankees intern Brian Cashman that brought all the stars to the Bronx. Torre just told them where the showers & clean towels were.
Torre didn't coach Scott Brosius, Chuck Knoblauch, Jason Giambi, Paul O'Neill, Tino Martinez, Alfonso Soriano, Roger Clemens, Gary Sheffield, Bernie Williams, Darryl Strawberry or "El Duque". You don't coach David Wells or Andy Pettitte or Derek Jeter or stupid A-Rod. Mariano Rivera is a machine. Torre doesn't even to speak to him, just punch in a few codes. Torre didn't do shit!
Back when Torre was announced as the new Yankees manager the Post headline nailed it right on the head: Clueless Joe.
If and when the Yankees shit the bed this year, they'll call for Torre's head yet again; someones gotta take the blame; someones gotta take the fall. That's how its been since the beginning of time. But that's all he'll be, a patsy.
A sham when he's on top and a patsy when he's on the ground. End of story.