I also believe that every week that Tiger Woods signs up to play, the hacks in the media love to make a news story about Tiger’s chances of busting out of his slump. Now I love watching Tiger as much as the next guy, but the only thing you are sure to see are Tiger’s sourpuss looks at his shots, letting go of clubs or slamming them around and curses at himself in the first person. He seems to be able to play under par, trouble is the other guys are double digits under par. Watching Tiger would be a whole lot more interesting if he held his club on every shot like he hit it stiff. The trouble is that he let’s us know as soon as he passes through the ball that its another bad shot. No mystery in watching that, and it only adds to the increasing discontent his followers have had over the past 16 months. Pretty soon, Tiger will become passe and join the ranks of the heckled. And how about making a putt once in while, Tiger?

1. Review the “Core Four”

Jorge Posada enters Bernie Williams territory and sentiment be damned. Posada’s contract isn’t an issue, the Yanks will gladly pay off the remaining years of a deal signed last year. Finding a spot for him to play becomes the problem. Can the switch-hitting (18 homers .248 BA) catcher become a DH on a team of potential DHs? Posada turns 40 next August.

Derek Jeter is up for contract renewal. No one predicts any problems. Jeter will be overpaid handsomely, but figuring out the course of his remaining career will be a challenge starting this winter. He’ll turn 37 in June and this may be his last season at shortstop. His lifetime batting average dropped 41 points in 2010. There’s talk he could play left or first base and extend his career. For the next few years, he’ll be afforded every opportunity at perhaps, the expense of a younger contributor, and therein lies the rub.

Andy Pettitte will simply retire when he feels he can’t bring it. That’s year-to-year right now and in 2010, he brought it.

Mariano Rivera will be 42 and we don’t mean his jersey number. He’s still as effective as ever. The Yanks only issue here is grooming someone to someday replace him.

2. The Free Agents

Cliff Lee and Carl Crawford. No foregone conclusion that either will be in New York next summer, because in excess of five teams have the money. But both address the elements needed to boost the Yankees. Starting pitching and another productive young hitter and speed.

3. Trades and re-signing the bench

Time to say goodbye to Joba and perhaps Brett Gardner who will both command interest. The DH slot that Brian Cashman filled with Nick Johnson/Lance Berkman will get much thought. Pressure to get younger and develop less-expensive help (OF-Greg Golson, INF- Ramiro Pena, C-Jesus Montero, 1B-Juan Miranda, INF-Eduardo Nunez, P-Ivan Nova, P-Andrew Brackman) to balance the big ticket items will also get plenty of discussion.

Catcher – Matt Treanor, Texas Rangers
Ist Base – Aubrey Huff, San Francisco Giants
2nd Base – Placido Palanco, Philadelphia Phillies
Shortstop – Edgar Renteria, San Francisco Giants
3rd Base – Marcus Thames, New York Yankees
Leftfield – Cody Ross, San Francisco Giants
Centerfield – Andres Torres, San Francisco Giants
Right Field – Curtis Granderson, New York Yankees

Pitchers:

Chad Durbin, Philadelphia Phillies
Clay Rapada, Texas Rangers

Thames at third is a bit of a stretch, but there was no second baseman beside Palanco, who now plays third.

Don’t know exactly what this means. One point might be, based upon the success of the lineup above this postseason, that this team could win the World series (pitching aside). Another is that Tiger GM Dave Dombrowski is either good or bad at recognizing talent. Good, because he found it in the first place. Bad, because he let it go.

Maybe it should bode well for his trading prospects this off-season. Ryan Raburn, Brennan Boesch, Casper Wells, Will Rhymes, Don Kelly, Clete Thomas, Danny Worth? Anyone? Anyone?

We are all in for Derek Jeter. Despite his late season slump and predictions of his demise at 36, Jeter is making a comeback from a bad spell, hitting .311 over his past 45 at bats and leading the Yankees to the playoffs. His contract is up at the end of the year, and there isn’t a scenario in the world that would have him anywhere but starting at short for the Yankees in 2011. Playoff and World Series MVPs tend to be clutch players. Sportscream submits Jeter as postseason hero number 1.

Sportscream is against African American Cowboy (perhaps a precursor to his destination of the future) Randy Moss, the poster child for the mold that gave us Michael Vick and Allen Iverson. Randy will never get it, the way he dresses, the way he speaks out for himself and the way he values his legacy, which is to say way more than any real evaluator who factors in stats, off-the-field pursuits and his hubris-driven personality. We are all about his talent, when he wants to put out, and that one-handed TD catch in the loss to the Jets says it all.

On the other hand, Darrelle Revis reaching for the back of his thigh after being badly beaten is the oldest ploy in the book. Revis said that Moss was “a slouch,” but “The Island” pulls the injury card when he was badly shown up. So we are to believe that the Island was underwater that day because of Revis’ hamstring. You could see this one coming days before the game.

Sportscream is absolutely 100% for the City of Detroit and its teams. As if decay and economic crisis weren’t enough, professional officials chose the Motor City as the victim twice this year to dash fans most obvious means of escape. Umpire Jim Joyce’s call on Armando Galarraga’s perfect game and NFL ref Gene Sterafore and his crew’s call on Calvin Johnson’s winning touchdown against the Bears that wasn’t, are enough to make you turn your back on the games. Not in Detroit. Whatever BS Detroit fans are fed by the leaders of the game (Bud Selig and Roger Goodell), they’ll keep their loyalty to their teams.

The only thing Sportscream can’t figure about the lady “reporter” from Mexico’s TV Azteca visiting the Jet’s sausage fest, we mean, lockerroom, is why doesn’t the NBA try to promote the WNBA by hiring some male eye candy to visit their lady’s lockerrooms? Maybe someone would then pay some attention to the WNBA.

Sportscream is all for Villanova football entering the Big East and against the detractors that characterize the move as “minor.” Villanova coach Andy Talley may be just the agent to guide the transition after winning the FCS championship in 2009. Getting time for games in Lincoln Financial Field should eventually be a no-brainer, despite Temple’s lease. Recruiting more Howie Long’s and Brian Westbrook’s is just a full commitment from the friars that run Nova away. The Wildcats’ biggest challenge is to the alumni to mobilize enough football interest to fill the Linc.

We are for the resurgent Michigan Wolverines led by the remarkable Denard Robinson. This is a case of the virtuists jumping on Rich Rodriguez and not understanding football. Instead of lamenting how Lloyd Carr laid down and left the cupboard bare, game-planned losses to Applachian State and took a little pleasure as players abandoned ship (Ryan Mallet, Justin Boren, et al), the Michigan faithful couldn’t grasp Rich Rod’s system, his abandonment of West Virginia and that horrible NCAA infraction of practicing too much. Now the Wolverines aren’t all the way back, but it’s pretty safe to say even dopey front-running Michigan fans can now get the idea.

Sportscream is for “hits” as still being the most important of baseball stats. With the advent of Bill James and the Sabermathematicians, so many new stats power our analysis. On-base percentage, pitch counts and other nouveau stats are often cited as the hidden keys to understanding baseball today and especially “Moneyball” now starring Brad Pitt. Getting a hit is still the most clear way to measure performance. Ichiro Suzuki’s 200 hits for ten straight years is a most remarkable feat. Look at the top hit guys, it’s a “who’s who” of baseball’s elite. If they want to add a nouveau wrinkle, why not track “well hit balls or quality at bats” like they do “quality starts?”

Sportscream is all about the Washington Capitals first-year defenseman John Carlson as a Calder Award as top rookie candidate (as The Sporting News projects) and being the best NHL player ever from New Jersey. Actually, Carlson is Massachusetts bred, but his mother’s remarriage brought him to the Garden State for most of his teen years. Like all NHL prospects he then journeyed through his high school years playing hockey in Indianapolis and London, Ontario and bouncing through schools before being drafted #27 in the first round of the 2008 draft by the Caps.

Sportscream still has a little lost love for Joe Torre and this week he showed us why. After winning with the Yankees with $200 million payroll teams, Torre flamed out and got his revenge by authoring “The Yankee Years” where he trashed the organization that had concluded that his magic was overrated. He came back for the George Steinbrenner dedication and used the east coast media spotlight to lobby for the Mets job. Joe fancies himself as a likable guy who makes the world light up around him. How long before these true accounts of the “real” Torre come back to bite him?

For the 21st time, the New York City Basketball Hall of Fame held inductions this week at the New York Athletic Club. Among this year’s eight inductees were former Providence coach Joe Mullaney, Madison Square Garden photographer George Kalinsky, former Knick Anthony Mason and Rutgers hero Phil Sellers. It was New York that coined “The City Game” and the roster of nearly 200 inductees reads like a history of the game.

But if the Yankees falter in the fall and Hank and Hal Steinbrenner show that the Big Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, you can look to Monday’s matinee against the Red Sox as an example of Girardi’s “non-managing” and as a reason to question his reign. Actually, Hank and Hal won’t be the catalysts. It will play out like the scene described by Joe Torre in his book, “The Yankee Years,” where Girardi is summoned to Tampa and a school of piranhas will circle the table including Randy Levine, Brian Cashman and Lonn Trost, and this Joe will be told in so many words that failure isn’t acceptable.

So when the Yankees loaded the bases with no outs, down 2-0 to the Red Sox in the seventh and Curtis Granderson (surprise!) struck out against the lights out lefthanded Jon Lester, which brought in flamethrowing Daniel Bard who blew it by both Derek Jeter and Nick Swisher, Girardi did his best imitation of Joe Torre and did nothing. No bunts. No fly balls. No strategy in a tight game where opportunities to score were unlikely. Girardi had watched as Marcus Thames’ double “came as close to homer as you can get” and a fan interfered with an Austin Kearns foul ball that would have likely sacrificed Jorge Posada home from third.

It’s not that Girardi could have lifted Thames’ shot two inches, or prevented the fan from reaching to touch the foul ball. But he could have pinch hit for Granderson or, reinforced Jeter to bunt or make contact to hit it to the right side. But Girardi, like Torre, left it up to his All Star lineup. In other words, I could have managed the Yankees from the seventh on.

In the eighth, after Mark Texeira homered for the third time this season off Bard, Girardi finally got “strategic,” and lifted Alex Rodriguez after he singled for pinch runner Brett Gardner. This took one of baseball’s best out of the game. Left Mark Texeira unprotected if he were to get up again, and left the prospect of stealing a base entirely in the hands of Gardner. Boston pitcher Daniel Bard has a long delivery and their catcher, Victor Martinez has a poor record of throwing out runners. But Gardner didn’t go. If there had been a strategy to the pinch runner move, Gardner’s only task would have been to take second base. To put a runner in scoring position. To remove the force or the threat of a double play. And so when Robinson Cano hit a slow roller to second, Gardner took second when he should have been on third.

Perhaps Girardi’s lack of bullpen depth inclined him to play for the win with Jorge Posada, Lance Berkman and Austin Kearns stepping in to drive Gardner home from second. But his inability to play for the tie cost the Yankees as Posada walked and Bergman and Kearns stranded Gardner. Why Gardner is left to his own devices in such a situation is an insult to the steal sign. Why Girardi wouldn’t play for a guy on third with three hitters capable of a long fly as his best chance is beyond comprehension.

In Girardi’s postgame, he never mentioned Gardner’s baserunning aside from acknowledging that Bard held him close. He lamented Thame’s double, talked about two more months of the season, handled the media with ease and gave credit to their archrivals. The Yanks blew a chance to stay 2.5 ahead of the Rays and push Boston to 7 back and take two 2 of 3 in the series.

You have to wonder, if the Yankees lose by a game come September, if games like this will thrown out on that table in Tampa?

I don’t care what Bill Simmons says about rooting for more than one team, I’m a transplanted Detroiter, who has lived in New York for 35 years, and most of my family now resides near Philadelphia. So, I’ve got a broader point of view than most. I’m just a little confused when Philly, Detroit and New York teams go head-to-head….Starting with the Yankees, the $1.5 billion team that Saint Steinbrenner built, the biggest reason the Yankees are so valuable is their successful launch of the YES Network, where they keep every penny of ad revenue. The trouble is the ads that YES plays during breaks from Yankee action are the dregs of the world. Watch any Yankee game and learn how to improve your credit score, how to settle with the IRS for pennies on the dollar, or sue someone if you have lung cancer. Put in those appealing and uplifting anti-smoking PSAs from New York State and visions of orphaned boys, goo encrusted arteries and guys smoking out of holes in their neck, are just the break someone needs from the A-Rod 600 homer chase. Then again, if you want to get away, you could buy a car from any of about a dozen local dealerships who advertise on YES….I told you when they got him that Curtis Granderson couldn’t hit lefties and strikes out a lot. But he does hit homers, is a decent fielder and is as articulate and classy a representative as you can get….Somehow Lance Berkman, who is a shadow of what he once was, Austin Kearns, have mitt, will travel, and smooth shaven Kerry Wood, injury tempermental and easy to hit as he has ever been, are not the types of guys who have traditionally been added to the “Yankee Family”….Umpires are wrong about 90% of the time on close plays, not the nonsense figure that baseball wants to feed us. Granted, viewers are armed with instant slo-mo, but umpires are guessing on close plays and have been forever….Ken “The Hawk” Harrelson is the biggest “homer” in the ranks of announcers and is proud to tell you so, but watching games on WGNA, the “Superstation” that puts White Sox and Cub games into many other markets, is a trying experience. Not because Harrelson is so blatantly one-sided and announces pretty much like he golfed – not quite good enough – but because the necessity to mute Harrelson cheats viewers of hearing his partner Steve Stone, who is one of the best….Ever get the feeling that Lane Kiffin, one of the youngest head coaches at a major program, isn’t going to have a long career?….Bobby Cox, Cito Gaston, Lou Piniella, and perhaps Joe Torre will not be managing their teams next year. Charlie Manuel and Jim Leyland are looking worn out by their injury-plagued pennant races. Jerry Manuel and Don Wakamatsu are on the hot seat. The short list of managers-in-waiting shrank when Buck Showalter returned to take the helm of the Orioles. Now, only Bobby Valentine and Fredi Gonzalez are automatically named when an opening arises. Ryne Sandberg is a candidate to replace Piniella. Don Mattingly will again be given consideration when Torre leaves. Trey Hillman could join that group depending upon whether he’s considered the mastermind of 2009 when he breathed life into the moribound Royals or the guy who didn’t make it to half way this year.

The Tigers were also supposed to fall. Many prescient prophets of baseball wouldn’t forgive them for their 2009 swoon. According to the “sources,” the economy didn’t provide the Tigers with the ability to improve. Their trade of Curtis Granderson to the Yankees was a sign of surrender.

President/GM Dave Dombrowski tried to get younger. He brought in four less-expensive young players with upside — starter Max Scherzer, Yankees top prospect CF Austin Jackson, and two left handed pitchers, Phil Coke and Dan Schlereth — for what amounted to starter Edwin Jackson and Granderson. He signed Johhny Damon to add a bat and Jose Valverde to close. Dombrowski’s off-season plan was nothing like the critics predicted. The Tigers were in first place a day before the All Star break.

But before we could crown Dombrowski as a genius. Before we could list Jim Leyland among the best managers. Before we could give Miguel Cabrera the triple crown, the Tigers became the worst road team in baseball, a Red Cross unit for the ages (Brandon Inge, Magglio Ordonez, Joel Zumaya, and Carlos Guillen are all out), and a motley crue of feeble hitters and pitchers spinning down the eddy of the toilet.

The Tigers have been in double figures as far as utilizing rookies this year. One of their starters, Rick Porcello, has the sophomore jinx. Another threw a 28-out perfect game but hasn’t got anyone out for the past couple of years. The rookie enhancements are cheap and so are the lineup reinforcements. Damon has expense associated with him but not longterm staying power. Valverde is almost perfect with save opportunities, trouble is, he gets fewer and fewer.

So Dombrowski, who was hailed as a hero a short time ago, committed the cardinal sin. He made the writers and critics right by moving to inexpensive solutions, by saving money, by filling his holes with hope and not loading up. Instead of being honest and critical of his team, DD preached the glass was half full.

Dombrowski would have us believe that even though Gerald Laird couldn’t hit, he was a great catcher. That even though Brandon Inge was incredibly inconsistent, he was a great fielder. That even though there was no one to play second base, a rookie would step up. That even though his shortstop couldn’t hit, he could field so well that he improved the pitching. Four guys who couldn’t hit. Almost half his batting order. Throw in a rookie centerfielder, an aging rightfielder with bad knees, an aging leftfielder with eroding skills and a revolving door of nobody DHs and the Tigers had ONE hitter. As soon as Ordonez’s ankle broke, no one had to pitch to Cabrera again.

The bullpen was effective in the first half, then Zumaya broke his elbow. The rotation is beatable and even ace, Justin Verlander, isn’t a sure thing to stop a tailspin, which the Tiger’s have been in at least four times this season. They went 10-10 over a string in April. Two and seven for a time in May. They had a 3-6 spell in June and were 3 of 12 to finish July. They flat out can’t win on the road, although they do have wins against New York, Boston and Los Angeles to dispel their penchant for not being able to beat anyone good.

So when they should have added a bat to help Cabrera (Jermaine Dye, Johnny Gomes, etc.), they looked to Ordonez and Damon. When they should have punched up their rotation with an innings eater, (Carl Pavano, Bronson Arroyo, etc.) they were convinced “Perfecto” Galarraga was the guy. When they should have shopped for a shortstop who could hit a little, they stayed with Adam Everett and Ramon Santiago when Cesar Izturis or Orlando Cabrera were available. The result has been spinning down the drain. The pitcher they needed became rookie Andrew Oliver (0-4). The middle relief came from a nameless chain of pitchers who spent more time on I-75 to Toledo and back, than holding leads. The shortstop became Danny Worth (.238), that extra hitter was Brennan Boesch, a rookie out of nowhere who got hot for a short time.

The trouble isn’t that Dombrowski got lazy and cheap, it was that the critics were right from the start and he should have known better..

Umpire Jim Joyce should have been a precursor. Or Johnny Damon standing at the plate, bases loaded, looking at ball four to tie, only to be rung up. “I might have missed that one,” said ump Gary Cederstrom afterward. Is it something about the town? Are the uniforms attracting the short end of every stick? Do they have something against olde English script?

Last night Matt Garza threw a gem against the depleted Tigers. We should have seen it coming. B.J. Upton takes off from first. Tiger catcher Gerald Laird throws him out. Umpire Marty Foster calls him safe. Jim Leyland comes out hot to argue. Spittle ensues. Good bye, Leyland. Unlike Jim Joyce, there are no apologies from Foster. He was just wrong in front of millions of viewers. He hides in the umpire’s room. He’s “only human” as Bud Selig would surely say, even though my dog could have made this call.

Marty Foster is more concerned with some spit that may have flown out of Leyland. Not spit, ptuie, but rabid free form saliva that comes flying out of one’s mouth when they are emoting. Don’t put Marty Foster in the front row at any Broadway play. This was just incidental spittle that comes out when you are vehemently arguing about a totally blown call and being screwed. Marty Foster blew the call and tried the deception play. ‘It’s not about me blowing an easy call, it’s about him spitting.’ These guys don’t have to take that. Or arguing with bad balls and strike calls. The Tigers should preach “bring on Questec. Bring in the lasers. Bring on sensors in gloves, shoes, balls and bases.” The hardest thing to put up with is how indignant the umps are when they blow them.

So both Garza and Tiger starter Max Scherzer got into the sixth with no-nos. The stars started lining up when Scherzer loaded the bases. He managed two outs when Matt Joyce (no relation to Jim) stepped up to hit. It was fitting, because Matt Joyce was once a Tiger. Traded to his hometown Tampa for Edwin Jackson, who went to Arizona this past winter for Scherzer (among others). Matt Joyce has struggled to meet his promise for the Rays. Scherzer worked him to a full count with two outs, bases full. Should have been a bit of a signal Max, when Joyce lined one foul that would have likely drove in two or three. On the next pitch, Tampa 4, Tigers 0. The Matt Joyce trade was instantly redeemed with one swing.

Garza cleaned it up. Marty Foster continued to be a bad umpire. Jim Leyland probably was smoking in the clubhouse. And the Tigers fell to three games back of the White Sox.

Kay utilized his ESPN PR arsenal and had Winfield on his radio show as an ESPN-promoting guest, where the former six-team hall of famer came off as artriculate and lucid, prompting Kay to go into a complimentary spiel of how good Winfield is on radio as opposed to television where he then used Mushnick’s explanation word for word.

Mushnick’s mention in print launched Kay into a rant against Mushnick on his ESPN radio show and a challenge to match up Mushnick’s column with Kay’s broadcast. Mushnick consented and “wasted column space” (his words) on explaining the details for the first time publicly. Kay and his ESPN PR hackers, I mean, backers decided it wasn’t going to provide the tape, as promised, and dropped the matter. Win by TKO for Mushnick.

And so, we are afforded another glimpse into the ESPN media machine where anyone they put on camera is “an expert” and what they say is gospel. Which is why it’s humorous that NFL quarterback Aaron Rodgers slammed Tony Kornheiser as being unprepared and Ron Jaworski as not knowing what he was talking about. Funny how a media writer can get pushed back upon by the ESPN PR machine, but a star Green Bay Packers quarterback can get away with his credibility while talking the truth. I guess there’s not much to be gained from taking on a professional whose integrity is a given.

Now, Kornheiser has since given up his Monday Night Football gig, although the availability of John Gruden probably had something to do with it. Not to mention that Kornheiser took a buyout from The Washington Post, and had taken a sabbatical from his local Washington D.C. radio show to only do ESPN’s “Pardon The Interruption,” and “MNF.” He seemed to go through a mid-life crisis, some minor health problems, creeping into old age, whining about things, telling us how early he went to bed and pretty much admitting that his heart wasn’t in it.

Kornheiser has become the arbiter of bland. Recently he told us how great the band “Sugarland” is, he’s kept us up on his thoughts about “American Idol,” and missed the Steven Strasburg debut because he had tickets to Carol King and James Taylor. Ho hum Tony. You are old.

What we get out of Kornheiser these days are inquisitive references to youthful trends and “urban speak,” stories about having dinner with with John “Junior” Feinstein, golf with Maryland basketball coach Gary Williams and trips to his beach house in Rehobeth Beach, Delaware. Very retiring. He no longer goes on the road, covers the games or talks with his cronies that include Mike Lupica, Mitch Album and Bob Ryan (unless he’s a subhost on PTI).

While Kornheiser’s “American Idol” is losing lots of steam with the public, so is PTI, as partner Michael Wilbon transitions from an elite African-American sportswriter with an impeccable resume, to a hanger-on to Charles Barkley, an invitee to Michael Jordan’s gambling and golf party on Paradise Island, a bi-coastal (Scottsdale, AZ) yuppie and a biased Chicago sports fan. Where once you could count on him for an objective and intelligent point of view, he has now reduced himself to wonder. Wondering how he can have an intelligent opinion if a Chicago team happens to factor in, which they do in every sport. Wilbon thinks he can beat this by admitting outright of his Windy City bias, but it became clear how much of a phony he is, when he talked about how big a Black Hawks fan he was as they approached the 2010 Stanley Cup, after having never mentioned them before.

Which brings us to ESPN’s ‘bosses of bias’ as LA’s Jim Rome blows with the wind with every Lakers win (“you guys are good, and Kobe is god”) or loss (“come on Phillip, change something up, the Lakers are dogs”) and Bill Simmons, the sports guy mayor of Boston. Aside from the referees, these two guys are the biggest annoyances of the 2010 NBA Finals and should have David Stern command a gag order and fine. Neither guy enlights. All we will get is how personal losing will be to them. At least they both have plenty of familiarity with that condition.

On May 23rd, New York Post writer Phil Mushnick, called out Kay in a discreet way for lifting from his column and using the information practically verbatim on his ESPN radio show and not attributing the source. This prompted Kay to launch into a five-minute, over-the-top, ignorant and vicious attack on Mushnick that uncovered Kay’s contention that “he has stuff on [Mushnick] you,” that Mushnick reports from his couch and only attacks “popular people.” He also offered that when Kay dies “more people are going to be sad than happy” but when [Mushnick] dies “more people are going to be happy.” Nice.

The group at Mushnick’s funeral would be led by Michael Kay, a sycophantic, brown-toothed, big-headed (a new teasing point by rotating broadcast partner Paul O’Neill) and overweight misogynist. Next in line would be Kay’s former broadcast partner John Sterling, facelift starved Suzyn Waldman and the whole crew from Bristol, CT. You can probably add Mike Francesa and his former partner Chris Russo, who has apparently fallen off the face of the earth, to that front row.

For a serial self-seeking, servile flatterer and fawning parasite like Kay, taking on one of the best sports media critics in the land marks his step up from a somewhat humble, ‘just delighted to be here doing my dreamjob,’ to “I’m Michael Kay, New York Yankees broadcaster. Soon Kay will be talking about his World Series ring.

To consider himself “popular” is just one of his troubling flaws. Kay was so not missed by viewers during a recent play-by-play stand-in by the YES Network’s studio host, Bob Lorenz. It was like Jim Leyland said of Ernie Harwell a few weeks ago, “he broadcast the game for both teams.” For a change of pace, listeners were treated to how a game should be called, without constant chatter and all the extemporaneous adlibs about how to manage a game, how close he is to players and Joe Girardi, how long the games are, false home run excitement on flies caught at the warning track, and how fawning he is to his broadcast partners by mining stories about their often not-interesting careers. I for one, didn’t miss his disparaging comments about the competition. According to Kay the Yanks would go 163-0 because everybody is their inferior.

Michael Kay’s popularity is dreived from a system where listeners would be there anyway. Ad salespeople could book the time with Joran Van Der Sloot making the calls. Arbitron or whatever measuring device the media buyers use, go by the numbers generated by the subject matter. Guys like Kay and Francesa take those numbers as tributes to themselves. The game or the time period locked in your car will always be the attraction, and whoever is talking is just what “they wrap the ads around” as they like to say on Madison Avenue.

So how entrenched and cocky has Michael Kay become. He has an agent and he’s being paid big money. His ESPN spot leverages his Yankees spot and you have to wonder how long he’d last if he didn’t do the Yanks. He has a limited schedule on YES which either suggests the Yankees are aware that their viewers need a break from him, or he’s gained the power to dictate. Suzyn Waldman represents the model for job security at Yankee Stadium having been involved in various broadcast capacities for over 20 years. Her novelty as a woman has considerable cache when overlooking her many foibles, as does that it is widely held that her selection as part of the Yankee broadcast team was directly due to George Steinbrenner. Kay has similar “homegrown” sentimentality from the Boss and the marketplace for play-by-play men isn’t as brimming as it is for ex-Yankees to rotate in as color men.

But how long will it be before the new regime of Steinbrenners and the cash demands of the Yankee money machine in the Bronx and at YES signify a change? Perhaps Kay will slip up with his penchant to drool over women like he does with his traffic reporters at ESPN and YES talents Kim Jones and Nancy Newman. Although he seems to have calmed down, there’s something about Kay’s 49-year old bachelorhood and his creepy interest and inquiries about the sex exploits of his zoo-like support crew at ESPN that smack of Mel Allen living with his mother all his life.