Dunkirk, NY – I spent most of today attempting to consolidate my digital presence. It was not as onerous a task as I had expected. I was feeling way too scattered on the internet, and I no longer wanted to have to maintain so many different types and styles of site. As a result, I decided to bring as much as I possibly could into my original personal name domain, and make use of whatever tool I had available here to bring everything together.
The Yankees are no longer, I think, the “Baby Bombers.” They are pretty much growing up fast, with the possible exception of Miguel Andujar and Gleybar Torres, both of whom had a great night last night. It’s getting to me something of a common occurrence to see these two come through in the clutch and win games from the bottom of the order.
But I am truly concerned about the pitching overall. Tanaka did not look dominant again last night. He gave up too many home runs (at least they were solo shots), and seems to be afraid to throw his fastball at all. I don’t know how much longer he can rely on his breaking pitches if he can’t set it up with his fastball. Jonathan Holder had been pitching well, but like many of the relievers, he comes in and then lets in runs. It seems that with almost every game one of the relief pitchers has a potentially explosive inning. Last night turned out OK, as the Yankee offense again provided more runs, but when starters can’t go six innings, and at least one reliever comes in and lets in runs, trouble is brewing ahead. With Boston also playing terrific ball (perhaps they will slump with Mookie Betts on the DL now), the pitching situation needs some shoring up if the Yanks expect to win the division as opposed to being one of the wild cards. -twl
NB – This essay first appeared in the ezine The Rain, Party, and Other Disasters in 2016. It is re-printed here with permission of the editor. -twl
As with any of life’s notable “firsts,” I can remember vividly my very first experience of staged Shakespeare. It was a rollicking, no-holds-barred commedia dell’arte interpretation of The Taming of the Shrew, complete with slapstick comedy, rude sexual innuendo, innumerable physical shtick, and a cast that seemed to have inexhaustible energy. One unintended moment sticks out among them all. At one point during the famous Kate/Petruchio wooing scene, in what would now be called a “wardrobe malfunction,” one of Kate’s breasts came flouncing out of her low-cut Elizabethan dress. Completely undaunted and totally in character, the actress grabbed the exposed mammary and stuffed it defiantly back into its place, daring Petruchio and the audience to give even one scintilla of acknowledgement that they had seen what they had seen. I was hooked.