Don't get crazy

After listening to New York media over the past few days I have to say, the Roy Halladay trade to the Phillies is being blown a little out of proportion.

Halladay is a terrific pitcher, no doubt. But in case anyone missed the World Series this year (or the last two regular seasons), Cliff Lee doesn't exactly stink. Halladay is better, but I heard someone say on the radio today that he will make the Phillies seven games better this year, and I don't see it.

As a Mets fan, I'm not crazy about the idea of Halladay to Philadelphia, but it's not the end of the world either, because Lee is gone. (The Mets themselves are another story. I don't know what the plan is, but right now I could argue they're the fourth best team in the division).

Had Halladay been dealt to the Phils and Lee had stayed put, I would have made the Phillies the favorite to win the title next year over even the Yankees. But that isn't what happened.

Misguided AJ-enda

One of the most ballyhooed decisions by a manager in recent World Series history was made in 2003 by ol' Jack McKeon. Up 3 games to 2, Trader Jack wanted to put two feet on the Yankees throats before they ever caught their breath at Yankee Stadium. He tabbed Beckett to pitch Game 6 on three days rest, rather than take a shot with either Mark Redmond or Dontrelle Willis and turn back to a rested Beckett if the Series went seven.

As we well know, McKeon's faith in Beckett was realized in a five-hit shutout. It was one of the best performances by a pitcher in a decisive game in baseball history, no question, yet by the way people waxed poetic about the bold move since you would think McKeon had pitched himself. The great Tom Verducci of Sports Illustrated wrote a profile on McKeon the next month. The manager himself embraced it in one of many others. He proudly told Cigar Aficionado: "It took about 15 seconds to decide to pitch Beckett."

Here's the thing: McKeon's decision was misguided. It worked, yes. The Marlins won, yes. They danced on the infield at Yankee Stadium, yes. But had it failed, McKeon would've proven a miserable flop, sending his team into a Game 7 duel at the most hallowed venue in sports with a squirt gun (Redmond) or an 18th century revolver (a broken down Willis). Today we'd talk about championship No. 28, not 27.

In his aim for that elusive No. 27, Joe Girardi has strategized the Yankees onto the same one-lane highway. His decision to pitch A.J. Burnett in Game 5 tonight on short rest is equally misguided as the one made by McKeon and it could lead the Yankees to the verge of another collapse. Here's why:

Burnett has been splendid on short rest: 4-0, ERA in the twos, terrific strikeout rate. I understand that. But should he lose to Cliff Lee — the man with the lowest ERA after this many starts in postseason history — the Phillies will return to Yankee Stadium armed to force a Game 7.

The real fear isn't Burnett, who could pitch well tonight and still lose to a locked-in Lee. It's Andy Pettitte, Mr. Reliable, who has performed like a man 10 years younger this October but cannot disguise these facts: He is 37 and hasn't pitched on short rest since 2006. And in the instances he has, Pettitte has appeared pedestrian.

Imagine this scenario and consider the odds, because it is the Phillies' path to win this World Series:

• Game 5: Lee outduels Burnett — very plausible, if not expected

• Game 6: Pettitte tries, but fails — again, plausible as long as Pedro Martinez pitches reasonably close to how he pitched in Game 2

• Game 7: CC Sabathia pitches for the third time in nine days — think the Phillies can't win?

Sabathia showed a few cracks in Game 4. Even the staunchest Yankee supporter would agree he pitched his worst game this postseason, ducking in and out of early trouble to allow three runs in 6.2 innings. How much has the big man kept reserved for Game 7?

The key in the above scenario is how Martinez and Cole "No Mas" Hamels pitch at Yankee Stadium. Should one of them (or JA Happ, in a spot start) falter, A-Rod and co. could punish them, saving the media from giving Girardi its Sonny Corleone-at-the-tollbooth treatment for years to come.

In fact, like Jack, a win tonight turns Girardi from goat to hero. But not here. He's already hopped in the car, mad as hell, and is off to teach Carlo another lesson.

W.F. Slinger chimes in again, letting Buck and McCarver know what a wonderful job they did last night.


Random Rips From Game 1:

I loved it every time Fox panned its cameras over to show Charlie Manuel during last night's game as if he had anything to do with what was happening on the field. I mean seriously, is there a more overpaid job in the world than managing a good baseball team?

Wow, Charlie, did you really decide to go with Cliff Lee as your starter in Game 1? How did you ever think of that? And good job leaning up against the rail while your ace pitched an absolute gem. I could tell your close paying attention to the situation was really what made Lee rack up all those strikeouts.

And that lineup. Like Joe Girardi, you must really struggle with decisions like whether or not to pencil in hitters like Chase Utley and Ryan Howard. Any semi-coherent fan, even one from Philadelphia, could do your "job" and enjoy front row seats while doing it.

Sorry to pick on you old-timer, but you're in the spotlight and you're the one who is going to receive a massive amount of undeserved credit on top of the already undeserved piles of cash you've already pocketed. Baseball managers -- what a joke...

Speaking of jokes, how about those clowns, Joe Buck and Tim McCarver, in the booth? I've spent years bashing McCarver, but it's taken me longer to get to Buck, which probably stems from me having a soft spot in my heart for his "back to the track, to the wall, we are tied" call off Jim Leyritz's legendary home run in game four of the 1996 World Series.

Regardless, the gloves are off now. The guy is cornier than Jim Nantz, more predictable than Joe Morgan (okay, so that might be a bit of a stretch), dumber than Michael Kay and almost as obnoxious as Dick Vitale. Sadly enough, he's twice as good as Fox's No. 2 man, Thom Brennaman. At least we don't have to suffer through Chip Caray I guess.

Somehow Buck (I wonder why) has ascended to such prominence that HBO gave him his own show, Joe Buck Live. Talk about brutal, especially when he does what appears to be a bit of a stand-up routine.

I haven't seen such awkwardness since Mike Lupica attempted the same thing many years ago on his own show that lasted about two days. Even the deeply troubled Stephon Marbury looked more comfortable interviewing of all people, Vijay Singh, on his ill-fated 2007 talk-show/disaster, "Stars on Stars."

The best thing about Buck announcing baseball? It means I won't have to listen to him doing football this week.