October 09, 2002

In Salon, Keith Olbermann practically drools all over the screen reminiscing about the glorious madman that was pre-Torre George Steinbrenner (to recap: Houk-Virdon-Martin-Howser-Lemon-Martin-Howser-Michael-Lemon-Michael-King-Martin-Berra-Martin-Piniella-Martin-Piniella-Green-Dent-Merrill-Showalter), predicting — nay, praying — that a return of Evil George is already on its way.

Olbermann points out that the Yanks have lost two consecutive playoff series for the first time since 1980-81, adds a few in-house reports (George yelled at midlevel managers for not shaving well! He screamed "Jesus Christ Almighty!" — in Olbermann's presence!! — after watching Jeff Weaver get smacked around by Toronto in his first inning as a Yankee.), throws in every beloved memory of a quarter-century of George's craziness, and uses that to conclude that it's only a matter of time before GM Cashman and Torre are booted to the curb, replaced by Buck Showalter II.

The reasoning is actually pretty comical. Olbermann writes that while firing Torre would be too much of a PR disaster at this point, "the likeliest threat to Torre is a slow on-field start in 2003 (Steinbrenner used that excuse on Lemon in 1982, then promised never to do it again, then did it again to Yogi Berra in 1985)." Um...anybody want to make a little wager that Torre won't be fired even if the Yanks start off next year 6-8 like Lemon's team in 1982? Olbermann also wants us to think that Steinbrenner, even while getting fitted for yet another World Series ring, has been pining away for Buck Showlater, to the point where if the Mets start to show interest in Buck for their managerial opening, George might just go nuts.
Serious interest in Showalter from his hated cross-town rivals could be the nudge that pushes George to revisit his Robespierre days. Imagine your sexy ex suddenly dating your lifelong rival, or worse, your nerdy cousin. Whether it would be logical or suicidal, serious or fleeting, you might think of upping the ante and immediately proposing marriage. Remember, at all times, that George Steinbrenner is not the kind of man to sit around and act rationally when a situation calls for panic. He's the one in a million of us who wouldn't just think it; he'd pick up the phone and book the cathedral.


There's a whiff of sadness to the article, as though Olbermann can't help but remember a time when the fallout from a bad series loss like the Anaheim one would have provided him with a month of stories that wrote themselves, insane middle-of-the-night rantings from a man who changed his roster and managers like other men changed socks (I may have stolen that from Bill James, I can't remember). So on the rare occasions when the Yankees perform poorly, sportswriters look towards the front office, waiting for George's latest outburst, hoping that he'll trade Nick Johnson and Juan Rivera for Scitt Erickson then fire Torre and dig up Billy Martin. While I have to admit I'd enjoy seeing that, I also have to think that Steinbrenner may have noticed the unequaled success (on-field and in-wallet) he's enjoyed for the past seven seasons, and may not want to throw that all away what he may have done to Yogi Berra 17 years ago.
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