Re: [新聞] Joba's big night will be a success - …
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The greatest franchise in sports history is sinking towards oblivion. As if
they never realized Alex Rodriguez is the anti-Jeter.......they seem to not
realize they are creating a culture of mini-A-Rods, starting with
Chamberlain.
Joba has turned into a circus act.....what's worse is that he seems to relish
in it. Nothing good comes of these things. As if Alex is not enough of a
circus himself, why not add more clowns to the act. Poor Derek Jeter. I
feel for him. Chamberlain is being treated with such kiddie gloves its
disgusting. What happened to the days when I guy could break his hand and
continue to play without media fanfare and hype....old school hard nosed
ball. Last guy I saw do this is Derek Jeter. Those days for the Yankees are
over. The Yankees and their fans will be relegated to watching A-Rods HR
chase......that's all they'll have to cheer for over the next decade. Is
this what they really wanted? Seems like it.
※ 引述《leddy (耿秋)》之銘言：
: Joba還沒投, 投球的結果就出爐了, 太長了沒時間翻, 超好笑。
: http://www.sportsline.com/mlb/story/10851298/1
: Joba's big night will be a success -- if there are two of him
: June 2, 2008
: By Larry Dobrow
: Special to CBSSports.com
: It is finally here, the moment up to which every sports fan's life has been
: building. A happening that will make the Gods cheer and the seraphim sing. An
: event so monumental it will make the first of Michael Jordan's
: re-un-retirements look anticlimactic.
: Joba Chamberlain will make his first major league start Tuesday night in The
: Bronx, USA.
: He will dominate. He will reign. He will make you forget all those who came
: before him.
: He will throw 68 to 72 pitches, maybe.
: Just how anticipated is Joba's starting-rotation bow? The broadcast networks
: waved the white flag, serving up a mix of House reruns ("House makes an
: improbable diagnosis and acts all ornery and whatnot") and election coverage.
: The NHL bumped the potential Game 6 of the Stanley Cup playoffs back to
: Wednesday so as not to intrude upon the low-brimmed righty's spotlight dance.
: The NBA delayed the start of the 2008 Finals by two days, just in case the
: country needs Wednesday to digest the beacon of magnificent awesomeness that
: is Joba.
: So outside of the expected -- a no-hitter, a quasi-religious experience, the
: dawning of a new age in contemporary sports and, indeed, Western civilization
: -- what can we expect from Joba's first A-team night on the big stage? It'll
: probably go something like ...
: 4:25 p.m.: Joba arrives at Yankee Stadium in his blue Duster, escorted by a
: NYPD motorcade. After a horde of squealing teenage girls attempt to upend the
: car, cops cordon off the scene and mace the offending parties. In the ensuing
: confusion, eight SWAT team members extract Joba from the vehicle and hustle
: him the 75 yards between the players' parking lot and the stadium entrance.
: Ever respectful, Joba insists on holding the door for everyone.
: 4:31 p.m.: Joba changes from his street clothes -- head-to-toe Ermenegildo
: Zegna, natch -- into his navy blue Yankees undershirt and pinstriped uniform
: trousers. A reporter fortunate enough to witness the sartorial transformation
: posts the following impression on his blog: "Unlike the rest of us, Joba does
: not put on his pants one leg at a time. In fact, he puts them on two legs at
: a time, while text-messaging with his left hand and shaving with his right."
: 5:06 p.m.: Joba meets with the street gang of Yankee beat reporters. Summary
: of the no-holds-barred session: No, he isn't nervous. Yes, he hopes to go at
: least five full innings. No, you can't have a sip of that. Yes, he will still
: be your friend. The klatch concludes with an ever-respectful "thanks a lot,
: guys."
: 5:11 p.m.: Joba takes a nap. He dreams of turtles.
: 5:52 p.m.: For his pregame snack, the once-tubby Joba consumes the crispest
: of legumes and the juiciest of Jujubes. He daintily wipes the corners of his
: mouth with a linen napkin, which is immediately encased in Lucite and put up
: for charity auction on eBay.
: 5:57 p.m.: Amid frenzied bidding, the soiled Joba rag sells for $28,200.
: 6:12 p.m.: Joba heads out to the bullpen, where he goes over the game plan
: with Jose Molina. Knowing that Joba needs no further guidance or support,
: Molina instead recommends a mix of pop-culture touchstones (EW.com, Project
: Runway) and home remedies (saltwater gargle for sore throats).
: 6:45 p.m.: To the roar of a frenzied crowd, Joba strides lazily from the
: bullpen to the dugout. Rather than his usual entrance blast of Mötley Crü
: e's Shout at the Devil, the Yankees opt for a full fireworks display and an
: 11-minute version of Simply the Best performed by opera dude/Yankee Stadium
: squatter Ronan Tynan.
: 7 p.m.: History is made as Joba takes his first victorious steps out of the
: Yankee Stadium dugout as a starter. The stadium illuminates with flashbulbs,
: despite the early hour and the .085 percent chance that such photos will
: register as anything but a blur.
: 7:01 p.m.: Joba warms up on the mound. From the Yankee radio sanctum,
: impartial journalist Suzyn Waldman comments on Joba's "electric" warmup
: tosses. She notes his "thick, muscular thighs" and the rotation of his
: "surprisingly slender" hips. Broadcast partner John Sterling enthusiastically
: agrees, adding "Jumpin' Joltin' Jivin' Juicy Juggernaut Jujitsu Joba" to his
: confusing-catchphrase arsenal.
: 7:03 p.m.: Tynan reappears for a bloated six-minute version of the national
: anthem, proving once anew that the Yankees love freedom more than the Red Sox
: do. During the song, the so-respectful Joba removes his cap and bows his
: head.
: 7:09 p.m.: Triple Crown contender Big Brown is trotted out onto the field,
: literally and figuratively, to throw out the ceremonial first pitch. The
: horsie half-hoofs the ball toward the third-base line. The crowd reacts
: favorably.
: 7:11 p.m.: Joba strikes out David Eckstein, Aaron Hill and Alex Rios in a
: mere 10 pitches, baffling them with a diving fastball (nasty), a
: bowel-vacating change-up (nastier), a howitzer of a curve (nastier still) and
: his trademark kamikaze slider (think an underfed Sally Struthers). Only
: Eckstein, by virtue of his supreme talent, makes contact with a pitched ball.
: The Yankee Stadium crowd rises to its feet as Joba leaves the field,
: showering him with jewels and undergarments.
: 7:20 p.m.: After Jays starter Roy Halladay sets down the Yankees with an
: economical eight pitches in the bottom of the first, a Canadian ex-pat fan
: practically announces his ignorance by suggesting that Joba ranks as the
: second-most-able pitcher currently in the game. The hoser is pulled aside and
: beaten savagely by the hairy-knuckle contingent in Section 39.
: 7:26 p.m.: Rod Barajas' ground ball somehow penetrates the impervious Yankee
: infield defense. He becomes the answer to the future trivia question, "Which
: ridiculously lucky jerkhead player's fluke base hit was the first surrendered
: by 400-win Hall of Famer Joba Chamberlain as a starting pitcher?"
: 7:28 p.m.: A six-pitch walk to Joe Inglett? This cannot be happening. This
: cannot be happening. Suzyn Waldman attempts to impale herself on her
: scorecard pencil.
: 7:29 p.m.: Whew -- a double play. CNN cancels plans to break into its regular
: programming.
: 7:29 p.m.: Joba pumps his fist enthusiastically, prompting
: school-before-the-old-school Jays skipper John Gibbons to lose his crap. From
: the dugout, he chirps at Joba about "knowing your place" and "acting like
: you've been there before." He is immediately placed in protective custody.
: 7:38 p.m.: Lookie that -- the Yankees score a run off Halladay. That's
: something you don't see every night. Joba is credited with the RBI, despite
: having spent the half-inning in the clubhouse fielding congratulatory calls
: from world leaders and captains of industry.
: 7:57 p.m.: Joba throws three heaters past an overmatched designated hitter
: who does not resemble the recently released Frank Thomas. Somewhere north of
: the border, J.P. Ricciardi idly scratches his ass.
: 8:11 p.m.: Jason Giambi, slump-busting mustache and thong in tow, yanks a
: Halladay changeup into the shallow right-field stands to give the Yankees a
: 2-0 lead. Upon emerging from the dugout for his mandatory
: Yankee-does-something-half-OK curtain call, Giambi hears only murmurs. After
: a few concerned strokes of his 'stache, he retreats into the dugout and sends
: out Joba. The crowd goes bonkers.
: 8:28 p.m.: Joba throws his 71st and final pitch of the evening. It is a
: wonderful pitch, an otherworldly pitch, a cruel pitch, a slider. This slider
: is to all sliders that preceded it what Alec Baldwin is to Java Man, what
: brie is to Kraft American singles. It goes for a called third strike and Lyle
: Overbay retreats dugout-ward, demoralized. On his way off the field, Joba
: tips his cap ever-respectfully to the fans, who respond by lapsing into
: euphoria-induced seizures.
: 8:29 p.m.: The verdict? Joba Rules.
: Postscript
: 8:38 p.m.: After the Yankees take 12 more overcaffeinated whacks at
: Halladay's elusive offerings, Ross Ohlendorf heads in from the bullpen to the
: strains of Elvis Costello's God Give Me Strength. His sink-free sinker fails
: to sink. The Yankees promptly surrender the two-run lead.
: 8:39 p.m.: Sports radio WFAN registers its first "we need Joba in the
: bullpen!" call. And so it goes.
--
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