Jimmy Key ran cool, Orlando Hernandez hot. David Cone could talk to reporters on the day he pitched – heck, it felt like he might walk out to the mound with you, if you so desired. Bernie Williams was polite, but reserved. Hideki Matsui was a deep thinker, David Wells was not. Masahiro Tanaka was stoic, Johnny Damon showy.
I have spent more than three decades regularly around the Yankees and have been endlessly fascinated by if a type works in this environment – an anti-Gallo, so to speak. And I am not sure that there is a one-size fits all quality, as the previous paragraph accentuates.
Derek Jeter’s brilliance, for example, was in how uncomplicated he made everything and Gerrit Cole’s is how complex he makes everything. Jeter was see ball, hit ball – there were days he didn’t know the opposing pitcher until he reached the ballpark. Cole is see ball and imagine two dozen new things he could do to manipulate it – and you can believe he knows more about opposing lineups than he does his own children.
Players emit something in this atmosphere to emphasize whether they are going to make it. Let’s say I had lots of dubiety about Carlos Rodon when the Yankees were recruiting him, it continued through his pinstriped debut season and Wednesday, after he gave up a homer to the Rays on his first and last pitch, it sure sounded afterward like he was trying to convince himself it was no big deal as much as reporters.
Juan Soto gives off an opposite vibe – like a guy dropped on a Broadway stage and feeling like he will nail every line; like he was born to be there.
“I’d be shocked beyond belief if he did not handle this well,” said Pat Roessler, the Yankees assistant hitting coach.
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nypost.com]
