Damn. You know what? Good on you, Joe. I love this story.
If Joe Torre hadn’t been low-balled by the Yankees, he might have spent the weekend watching up close as balls flew out of the new Yankee Stadium seemingly every time someone swung a bat. Instead, he was at Dodger Stadium watching them sail out of what is normally a pitcher’s paradise.
[ … ]
But he does crack an occasional smile in the dugout. And he appears to be having fun with his players, something that seemed impossible in later years in New York.
Winning by big margins, of course, helps.
I do, I love this story, and my appreciation is layered.
A large part of it is, of course, deriving the schadenfreudic jolt any Red Sox fan would at the sight of someone getting a last laugh and twist of the knife at the expense of the Steinbrenner hydra.
And a large part of it–the better part–comes from being a fan of the game first.
Joe Torre’s one of many great–and, damn it!–likable people that have passed through the Yankees organization. I hold Girardi in high regard, too, as a matter of fact.
Torre certainly figured prominently in presenting a worthy rival for Sox fans. I wish him the very best with the Dodgers (and speaking of storied rivalries, am I ever gonna hear it now from the Giants fans in my life, hoo boy).
And I wish him extra luck with harnessing the energy of that toxic-genius-space-shot Manny Ramirez
(when she was good she was very very good, and when she was bad she was horrid).