TWO baseballs, one flying high, the other zipping low through the steambath that was the Stadium air last night, told the story of the Yankees’ latest win.
The baseballs simultaneously were in the same general air space beyond the fence in left-center in the eighth inning of a game the Yankees would win, 6-5.
The baseball taking the high and far flight to uncharted territory flew off the bat of Tigers right fielder Juan Encarnacion. It landed in the empty bleachers the color of the average hippie burnout’s faded blue jeans, the seats behind Monument Park.
Yes, those seats.
Even Jerry Garcia never took a trip that long.
It was Encarnacion’s 11th home run. If justice had been served by official scorer Bill Shannon, Encarnacion would have been given credit for his 12th, 13th, 14th and 15th homers for the ball that wouldn’t land.
“When I watched that I said, ‘Wow,’ ” said Bernie Williams, who knocked one clear out of the Stadium during batting practice Sunday. “They showed a movie, served dinner and a complementary breakfast on that thing. It was ridiculous. It was almost like a Nintendo homer.”
Ramiro Mendoza’s sinker didn’t sink until it had traveled further than conservative estimates that placed the shot at 475 feet.
“I told Mendoza after the game you should get that thing signed,” Yankees manager Joe Torre said.
It was believed to be the first home run ever hit into the last seats to fill in the 26 years since the remodeled Stadium opened.
“He had a little smile on his face after I took him out of the game,” Torre said.
So did the 34,519 who sweated their beverages out of their systems on an exceptionally muggy night.
The sight of the unassuming man jogging in from the bullpen painted the smiles on their mugs.
It was a warmup pitch thrown by Rivera that was a half a mile or so under Encarnacion’s moon shot.
The boost the Tigers received from their slugger lasted a mere seconds, all the time it took for Torre to walk out of the dugout on the way to taking the game from Mendoza’s hand and putting it in Rivera’s.
Three predictable pitches later, Jose Macias was Rivera’s 57th strikeout victim. He has walked nine batters.
Rivera’s cut fastball is to pitches what Kareem’s sky-hook was to shots. It’s unstoppable, unbelievable, unfair.
Almost without fail, Jorge Posada sets his target and Rivera throws a bullseye. Posada doesn’t have to move his mitt. Location is always the most important weapon a pitcher brings to the mound and Rivera’s is superb.
Next on the list of importance is movement. Rivera’s cut fastball shatters the bats of left-handed hitters and moves away from right-handers. It breaks so late and so sharply, hitters can’t possibly react to it.
It’s so difficult to make solid contact against Rivera’s pitches he often has a chance to showcase his terrific athleticism fielding dribblers. Usually, he’s right on them and true with his throws.
Leading off the ninth, Roger Cedeno, the ex-Met who is setting himself up for a nice free agent contract by becoming an impact leadoff man, hit a squibber in front of the mound.
Rivera was right on it and was well aware of Cedeno’s speed. In fact, he was too aware of it, rushing his throw over the head of Tino Martinez at first and Cedeno was on second base with nobody out and the Tigers needing only one run to force the Yankees to bat in the bottom of the inning.
Under normal circumstances, an offense has reason to feel confident in that scenario. Not with Rivera on the mound.
He’s a tough guy to hit and a tough guy to bunt. Damion Easley tried the latter and popped out to Posada. Bobby Higginson, who had a tough week in one night, stranding five runners and committing two errors in the outfield, was up next. He bounced out to Martinez, advancing Cedeno to third.
Then Rivera’s high fastball to Tony Clark brought Posada out of his crouch, though not in time for the catcher to catch the ball. It squirted behind Posada and Cedeno took off.
Rivera covered the plate, his iffy right ankle exposed. Cedeno’s speed didn’t cause Posada to panic the way it had Rivera. The catcher fed the pitcher. Rivera placed the tag. Torre popped out of the dugout, looked for a full moon and was surprised not to find one.