Aaron Judge uses Brett Gardner's bat-slamming antics as Yankees odd new rallying motion

By Tony Mangia

The Yankees aren't happy with the target MLB umpires have put on Brett Gardner and his recent bat-slamming actions in the dugout but, Aaron Judge may have introduced a new, kinder and albeit less savage, team rallying motion derived from the antics of their fiery left-fielder.

There was a lot of talking about team unity — after Gardner was tossed from Saturday's game against the Cleveland Indians for banging his bat on the dugout ceiling in response to manager Aaron Boone being thrown out for jawing to the home plate ump — before Judge mimicked Gardner's double-handed rant at first base following his third-inning single and again from second base after a Judge double.

"no no it aint a shot at you guys" pic.twitter.com/Zw1O83Nncs

— Jomboy (@Jomboy_) August 18, 2019

I'm sure a lot of twisted baseball fans — and probably some indignant and inefficient umpires — will see an indecent double-entendre in the two-handed motion, but — to the easily offended — the gesture might be less naughty than Gardner's in-and-out motion with a bat in a dugout cubbyhole during that same rant. And, if you believe Judge, the jerky up-and-down bat action just might become the Yankees version of the Rally Cap.

Maybe they can call it Gard's Up! or Wood's Up! They are Savages, after all.

"Yeah, he's one of the leaders of this team," said Judge. "We do a lot of crazy things in that dugout when we get on base. Just showing support for him. He's the leader of this team so we're just supporting him."

Gardner had been one of three Yankees kicked out of the game — CC Sabathia was the third — by first base ump Phil Cuzzi on Saturday, so before the game on Sunday, Boone warned his players that the umpires might be watching the dugout for more abuse of his lumber by Gardie and another excuse to toss him from the game.

When the Yankee Stadium Bleacher Creatures did their ritual role call at the start of Sunday's game, Gardner pretended to slam a bat on the dugout ceiling in return. Judge must have been watching and took it as a sign.

Gardy can't stop.

Gardy won't stop. pic.twitter.com/uNEj6bewqr

— Cut4 (@Cut4) August 17, 2019lll

Cuzzi worked home plate during Sunday's loss without incident although the Yankees could be seen shaking their heads at more than a few lousy pitching calls. But, with Gardner's bats on a leash, it didn't come to this... not in the dugout at least.

Here is the full sequence of the Boone ejection. Hot mics galore. pic.twitter.com/R6Vw0qw0qn

— Jomboy (@Jomboy_) July 18, 2019 

Yankees' Brett Gardner and Brian Cashman both victims of mistaken identity

By Tony Mangia

In two separate incidents Friday, a couple members of the New York Yankees family were both involved in dramatic incidents of mistaken identities by respective authorities hundreds of miles apart, but later absolved of any wrong doing after the infield dirt and exhaust fumes had settled.

Before rightfielder Brett Gardner got tossed out of a game against the Blue Jays up in Canada last night, general manager Brian Cashman was tossed by a swarm of anti-car theft police in Connecticut earlier in the evening — with guns drawn.

Gardner's bust and outburst in Toronto might have been witnessed by fans at the game and watching on the YES Network,  but it was the Yankees general manager's dramatic experience which might have been a little more TV show worthy after he was swarmed by “as many five patrol cars" and "between six and nine police officers” with “guns drawn” in Darien after being mistaken for an "armed car thief,” according to a report from the New York Post.

The only guns showing in the Gardner case were his biceps as he was restrained from going after umpire Chris Segal by Yankees manager Aaron Boone.

Cashman's ordeal began while was driving the vehicle from Yankee Stadium to the Norwalk, Connecticut Police Department on Friday afternoon to have it processed for evidence after he reported it stolen in the Bronx. When he stopped for gas in Darien, he was greeted with a swarm of police officers responding to someone in a white Jeep “that was brandishing a gun in a local doctor’s office.”

Combined with the fact that the NYPD never took the jeep off the "hot car" list, Cashman was told not to "make any rash moves" as he exited his vehicle. Talk about a trading deadline being over, this was one rash decision that even a MLB GM knew not to make.

“And that’s when apparently the circumstances radically changed,” said Cashman. “I had a welcoming committee descend upon me as I pulled out of that gas station … They executed a very tactful interception. They’re clearly very professional and trained and they asked me to turn my car off, exit the vehicle, walk backwards towards them … they were executing their duty.”

After a 15 minute process, Cashman was escorted to the Norwalk Police Department by Darien police in order to avoid a similar situation unfolding down the road. He was assured his vehicle was off the stolen car list.

Gradner's incident with The Man resulted from other player's barking in the Yankees’ dugout over a pair of questionable called strikes by Segal in the fourth inning, the first a strike-three call on Cameron Maybin and the second the very next pitch to Mike Tauchman.

After the Tauchman call, Maybin, seated in the dugout, yelled, “F—ing terrible, let’s go!”

Segal immediately responded: “Time, out, done!” and signaled someone was out of the game. When Boone inquired who had been tossed, Segal replied: “Gardner. He just told me I’m f—ing terrible.”

The obvious misidentification caused a stunned Gardner to emerge from the dugout before he blew up and had to be held back by Boone. Then it was time for Gardner's signature bat-bashing in the dugout.

“I told him I didn’t say anything,” Gardner said. “He told me I did say something. That’s why I got pretty irritated.” Gardner also called Segal “a liar.”

Later, a still agitated Gardner wasn't as diplomatic or forgiving as Cashman for the mishap. Asked if wanted an apology from Segal, Gardie plainly said, "Not interested."

So Mike Tauchman takes a strike...and Brett Gardner gets ejected?

That's what happened, and if this game can get any crazier, you can watch it here: https://t.co/i6xvpsa0pF pic.twitter.com/V5VQ2SHOuj

— YES Network (@YESNetwork) August 10, 2019

McNeil's acrobatic catch brings back memories of Jeter's dive into the stands — without the net

By Tony Mangia

Last week, in the fifth inning of the Mets’ 4-0 win against the White Sox, Jeff McNeil made the kind of wild catch that just might become pretty common in the future. The Mets rightfielder hopped a low wall into the fans' protective netting to stop his momentum after running down a foul ball, making the catch and flopping around like he was inside a kid's bounce castle.

And, in the kinder, gentler world of sports these days, nobody was harmed in the making of this play.

“That’s instincts taking over,” McNeil, who goes by the alias "The Flying Squirrel," would say later.

The catch was fantastic and deserving of all the ESPN Top Ten airplay it got that night, but the hustle and intrusion into the stands also brought back memories of another foul catch by a certain shortstop in the Bronx 15 years ago and how that scenario played out without today's safety precautions.

On July 1, 2004, Derek Jeter made one of the most memorable catches of his career, diving into the third-base stands at Yankee Stadium to catch a Trot Nixon pop-up in the 12th inning of a game against the Boston Red Sox. The Yankees ended up winning the game, 5-4, in 13 innings.

Not to take anything away from McNeil's highlight gem, but Jeter's dive into the hard-backed seats and fans' cold beers — not to mention against their hated division rival in a game that had playoff implications for both teams even that early in the season — was way superior.

McNeil's play came during what will probably shake out to be a meaningless regular season game where he calmly walked back to high-fives in the dugout unscathed two outs later.

Jeter, meanwhile, was slapped on the back by the stunned fans he just crashed into and dramatically escorted back onto the playing field by trainer Gene Monahan — bloodied and a bit bruised.

While McNeil's trampoline catch might become more commonplace because of fan protection becoming a priority inside baseball stadiums, it's Jeter's hard-nosed play that will live on in MLB lore forever — if not only because of the lack of those nets.

Jeter's catch wins this debate, but McNeil does have a better nickname.

PC College Students Push For Nashville Predators Name Change Because of "Stigma" Attached To It

By Tony Mangia

Well, the PC Police are at it again and — to no one's surprise — the roll out of another politically correct crusade started on a college campus.

A group of students at Emory University in Atlanta are politicking the National Hockey League's Nashville Predators to change their name to the Nashville Sabercats to shield sensitive minds from the stigmas associated with the word "predator."

Students suggest rebranding NHL’s Nashville Predators to the Sabercats to get away from stigmas associated with the word “predator”#NHL #Nashville @PredsNHL @sport_analytic pic.twitter.com/wPycYck3Ck

— Emory MAC (@Emory_MAC) February 19, 2019

Never mind that the budding social justice warriors are sticking their noses into another city's business (Don't they have enough problems with the Atlanta Braves name?) they don't seem to understand that the word "predator" has been around since cavemen grunted it at real life saber tooth tigers many hockey periods ago.

It was during a Power Point presentation in a marketing class where a section of Emory's fine student body proposed that the "Predators" should rebrand the name because the word has the offensive connotation of weird guys stalking women and perverts chasing minors via the internet. It wasn't the first call for a Nashville Predators name change. It began about a year ago through a Change.org petition sent to that relentless hidden camera, predator-catcher Chris Hansen — the television newser, who surprised morally-insolvent pervs in kitchens of "minors" all over America and on camera. The petition has now been closed (It had 10 supporters) presumably because Hansen is too busy dealing with his own personal bankruptcy issues.

The Emory marketing project also included rebranding proposals for sports teams like changing the name of the Oakland Athletics to the Oakland Guardians to represent the city's "rough reputation." That's odd because the initials O.G. have a way more violent connotation in most gang-ridden cities like Oakland. And then some students pushed for the soon-to-be Las Vegas Raiders to become the Bandits. I don't know about you, but Bandits sends me looking for a safe space faster than Predators.

Students want to rebrand #Oakland @Athletics to the Guardians. Team says new name reflects Oakland’s rough reputation. Oakland G’s reflect long history of winning#Athletics #OaklandAthletics pic.twitter.com/qOYYx24GQ2

— Emory MAC (@Emory_MAC) February 19, 2019

I'm sure some easily offended and attention-seeking students will somehow start a movement and find a way to disparage other NHL teams named after hungry prey-chasing animals — Panthers, Coyotes and Sharks — or deadly natural disasters — Hurricanes, Lightning, Avalanche or Flames — weapons — Sabres — or maybe the just plain stupid — the Blue Jackets.

For me, the team name that really represents death, disasters, perverts and preying on the innocent is the Senators. Now that's offensive.

Super Bowl Portfolio (1984-95)

All Photos by Tony Mangia

Pacquiao Looks Ageless After Dominating Victory Over Broner

By Tony Mangia

While many have been looking at boxer Manny Pacquiao as past his prime in recent years, the future Hall of Famer looked ten years younger after convincingly defeating American challenger Adrien Broner to retain his WBA welterweight title in Las Vegas on Saturday night.

No, make that 11 years younger.

The 40 year-old Pacquiao (61-7-2) won a unanimous decision (117-111, 116-112, 116-112) over the 29 year-old Broner (33-4-1) defending his 147-pound belt in dominating fashion in front of 13,000 appreciative fans at the MGM Grand Arena.

It was Pacquiao's first fight in the United States in over two years and his first bout since a title-winning seventh-round knockout of Lucas Matthysse in July in Malaysia. Now fight fans are hoping last night's bout could serve as an tempting incentive for a rematch with another perennial — Floyd Mayweather Jr..

Pacquiao claimed a shoulder injury limited his effectiveness going into that Mayweather fight and has expressed his desire for another shot at the champ after losing a unanimous decision to him back in 2015. Mayweather was ringside for last night's fight.

Manny Pacquiao lights up Adrian Broner in the 7th round! #Boxing #Broner #BronerPacquiao #PacquiaoVsBroner #PacquiaoBroner pic.twitter.com/zT6HRvQRZQ

— Enos Tonnie (@ItsEnos) January 20, 2019

It was Pacquiao's first fight since turning 40 years old and the the first one since being reunited with his longtime trainer Freddie Roach after a brief separation.

The Filipino senator used body shots to work over Broner in the early rounds before unleashing a wild flurry of head shots in the seventh. Pacquiao completely controlled the tempo of the fight and the stats don't lie. During the 12 rounds bout he landed 82 of 197 power punches to 39 of 180 for Broner. Pacquiao connected on 47 body shots. Broner landed a grand total of three.

"I don't believe my career is over," the boundless Pacquiao said after the bout. " I proved it again at the age of forty."

On the other side, Broner's remarks after the fight might not be ageless, but they certainly will be timeless.

pic.twitter.com/IVsom1GcIz

— Sporting News (@sportingnews) January 20, 2019

Homestay Volunteering Is A Great Way To See A Foreign Country

Article and photos by Tony Mangia

International volunteering became sort of an annual ritual with me about five years ago after an eye-opening and exciting three weeks teaching English in Kenya. What began as one-time, lending a hand in some small way journey soon became a yearly excursion overseas before turning into the bi-yearly excuse to explore less ventured and vastly more interesting places in the world — with charitable group benefits — it has become for me today.

The act of volunteering has cannily become equal parts self-serving travel support as much as an opportunity to do some sort of good in the world. 

As a photojournalist, I am always looking for the off-the-beaten-path sort of destinations and usually travel in spring or fall when the climates are more bearable and most rainy seasons are dormant. Of course, there aren’t the mobs of tourists and college students in the background of every shot either. Volunteering offers me the chance to get up close and personal with different communities of the world without feeling like one of those tourists.  And besides the satisfaction of helping other people out — and occasionally their fellow Hominidae (Working on an orangutan reserve in Malaysia) — it is also a great way to get acclimated to a less developed country — namely its culture, food, language and customs — with the help, support and guidance of a local volunteer team and the families you get to stay with. A one or two week crash course, so to speak. There is nothing more intimidating or a feeling of helplessness than being dropped off blindly into an environment way different that our western world without a clue. Just getting used to foregoing the creature conveniences we usually take for granted — simple amenities like hot water, air conditioning and sit-down toilets — can take some getting used to. Those squat toilets may be more natural and beneficial to your system (so they say), but not when your bad knees scream at every bend like mine do. Still don’t know why they don’t put handlebars around that hole in the ground. While most homestay experiences may take you out of your comfort zone for a spell, they also offer adventurous travelers a bartering-type opportunity to help others in exchange for getting a helping hand in return.

I tend to travel solo so I can take all the photos I want without anyone looking at their watch or hear the restless tapping of another person’s foot hinting at moving on. Getting the right photographic light can sometimes take a lot of time and patience— a toleration mostly only serious photographers know or care about. After finishing your daily chores as a volunteer, it’s easy to wander off on your own, even though most volunteer organizations stress keeping a close relationship within the groups —  such as dinners and activities together — to build camaraderie. I still choose the lone wolf approach whenever possible. The whole group together principle is more of a protective measure than an actual Kumbaya existence, but in the company of other volunteers, I’ve found that these organizations offer more than just a friendly, welcoming comfort zone for the lonely traveler in a foreign land, they offer security. And those on a budget can take advantage of that hospitality by saving money on tours, flights and accommodations once you get to their country. For example, when I volunteered in Kenya, the $1500 three-day safari I saw on my computer in the U.S. before I left actually cost me about $400 in Kenya because Beatrice, the woman whose family I home-stayed with in Nairobi, had connections to better deals. I recommend researching the tours and adventures beforehand, so you know how to clarify what you are looking to your volunteer hosts once you arrive. Sometimes language and technological issues (Limited internet, phone etc.) make it a little harder in some places, so the more information you bring with you, the better.

So there I was last May, touching down in Kathmandu after a pleasant, but tiresome 30 hour air journey from JFK — with a late-night layover in Dubai where I had the last real Western mean I would enjoy for a while — a quite delicious, McArabia Chicken (sliced chicken, tahini, lettuce, tomato and onions on pita) sandwich at the terminal McDonalds. My biggest challenge after the volunteer group sent a cab to meet me at Dubai International Airport? Figuring out how to adjust my watch nine hours and forty-five minutes ahead to local time. I couldn’t, so I spent the next three weeks just deducting two hours from the hands on the watch and noting if it was night or day. The younger volunteers on my trips are always amazed I don’t have a smart phone and that I can go weeks without taking selfies, scrolling social media and ignoring all the Internet noise that comes with it. The first time they see a Luddite like me still using a flip phone and notice I can’t even change the time on it, they really crack up.

Kathmandu, the capitol and largest city in Nepal, might be the dustiest place I’ve ever been in and that includes earthy cities such as Nairobi, Kandy in Sri Lanka and Myawaddy in Myanmar — all during their dry seasons. Through my taxi window, I observed the small storms of dirt particles lifted up by motor vehicles mix with the unending buzzing of scooters and motorcycles blowing puffs of exhaust into a throat choking nightmare. The durable Royal Enrights seem to be the choice of motorcycle here, as they are in India and many southeast Asian countries and it isn’t uncommon to see a family of five straddling one together. My taxi driver told me the number of motorized bikes on the streets of Kathmandu increased from 8,000 ten years ago, to over 80,000 teeming the streets now. He wasn’t happy about it either.

The only creatures that don’t seem to worry about the two-wheeled menaces zipping around town are the sacred cows you see grazing smack in the middle of any thoroughfare, leisurely chomping on the grains and fruit that people lay in front of them as offerings.

Face masks are almost a necessity and sold everywhere and it’s not uncommon customized or personalized ones adorn faces like fashion accessories. The tannish clouds of dirt still can’t hide the brilliant colors adorning everything from Nepalese clothing to brightly painted buildings. It must be maddening to the old women constantly wiping the ever-swirling dust off their tables of exotic looking foods (Which I wouldn’t chance eating) and interesting knick-knacks with tattered straw brooms only to see the fine granules of earth coat everything again minutes later. The ever-present powdery brown nuisance tainting everything takes some time getting used to. Did I mention face masks?

After a 45-minute minute ride from the airport, my driver dropped me off at the Kathmandu Peace House guest house the volunteer group set me up to stay for the first few days of my journey. Peace House is a popular name for these inexpensive hostel-type accommodations, so make sure you get the proper name and address before arriving or you’ll go crazy looking for it. I opted to pay extra ($6US per night) for single room privacy and comfort for a few days before the two-weeks of dorm-like, communal accommodations most volunteer trips utilize.

I was tired and dirty from the flight, but couldn’t wait to get out and about Kathmandu, so that shower could wait. I wandered the narrow streets in the tourist section of Kathmandu known as Thamel with camera in hand probably overusing the greeting namaste to everyone I met or took a picture of. It took a little time to get used to the narrow or nonexistent sidewalks, the heartbreaking street beggars and free-wheeling traffic, but it definitely got my photographic creative juices churning. Strangely, the first thing I noticed through all of the merchandise and gear pertaining to Mount Everest or the trinkets and t-shirts adorned with the omnipresent Buddha Eyes (Two alluring peepers, usually with a touch of eye shadow, symbolizing the wisdom and all-seeing ability of the Buddha) was the number of dreadlock hair styles on the Westerners. This place must be the White Guys with Dreads capital of the world. I counted about a dozen the first few hours I was there, probably more than I’ve seen in a lifetime in New York City — and that includes trendy Williamsburg.

I was cautious where to eat, and scouted around before I snacked down on my first (of many more to follow) meal of dal bhat, a Nepal staple usually consisting of white rice, lentil soup, chutney vegetables and roti flatbread at a place called the Mint Cafe, the coziest looking restaurant I could find. It was delicious, filling and only cost about 450 rupee, or about $4.50US. Little did I know at the time that dal bhat would basically be lunch and dinner for nearly two weeks while on homestay with my volunteer family, but — for now — this regional dish  was different and delectable.

Throughout the dusty streets of Kathmandu are plenty of temples to explore and ancient Buddhist stupas or Hindu shrines splattered with colorful flowers and melted candles to photograph. Hindus make up about 80% of the Nepalese population, but Buddhist symbolism seems to be everywhere. I’m guessing because Buddhism holds that Buddha was born in Nepal and is rooted in Nepal’s history. I worked out my airline-cramped legs wandering through the narrow streets, hopping out of the way of scooters and curiously peeking down alleys, into open-air barber and butcher shops; while passing the numerous lines of pedicabs and female street vendors selling fruits or fragrant spices.