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Grampa Godino says he doesn’t have a first name anymore. It used to be Charles, technically still is, he contends. Charles Godino, professor of mathematics, Brooklyn College. But to Megan Ajello and her younger sister Erin he’s Grampa, and that’s how he introduces himself. 

“Hi, nice to meet you I’m Megan’s Grampa.”

This is a hot, sunny July afternoon on a nice tree-lined Staten Island street, a half mile or so from the Prince’s Bay railroad station.  Quiet, middle class suburban neighborhood here. Single family homes, two-car garages, basketball hoops, neat front lawns here. Hedges and flower gardens and bicycles leaning on kickstands here. And today all these Yankee baseball players, famous models, reporters and television cameras

It’s May. Roughly the middle of the month, about six weeks into a 2011 baseball season that runs until late September, and then some for a handful of teams.

A May series. Yankees-Red Sox in the Bronx, only the second of many between the two divisional rivals.

Before the end of the season, it is quite possible the rosters of one or both teams will be significantly different than they are now.  Injuries, trades, player promotions and demotions to and from each organization’s Minor League system . . . these will greatly impact their eventual and final makeup.

Depending on one’s inclinations, it is tempting to dismiss or overstate their positive attributes and deficiencies, their positions in the standings, their respective outlooks in terms of overall success.

New York-- I’m at the computer trying to make some headway on my latest book—this is last Friday at 6:30 PM—when the cellphone jumps and vibrates on my desk. My pal Judi’s text reads:  We r bringin sandwiches I made my infamous meatloaf.

She doesn’t mention where she’s bringing the sandwiches, but thirty years into our conversation I can fill in an easy blank, especially since I know she and Anthony are going to be at Saturday’s big game at Yankee Stadium. I wrote about those two earlier in the season, but what I was uncomfortable sharing at the time is that just under a year ago, not long after they’d celebrated the Yanks winning the World Series, Judi got one of those medical diagnoses you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy,

The Yankees’ postgame interview sessions after their 4-0 Friday night loss to the Mets were so tiresome they could have been lifted from an old script, the scenes in the conference room and clubhouse like scenes from baseball seasons past.  There was a stale predictability to the questions, a kind of flat, rote tone to the answers.

On two previous nights, Jamie Moyer and Kyle Kendrick of the Phillies had shut down the Yankee offense. Then Friday it was the Mets’ Hisanori Takahashi. In some ways their styles were similar. None had great stuff, but all  used deception to keep the Yanks off balance, serving up cocktails of sliders, changeups and other off-speed pitches mixed in with just enough well placed, fastballs to keep batters guessing.

These games weren’t

Everything’s Everything
The very best thing you can say about the Yankees in Friday night’s 8-2 win against the Cleveland Indians is that the team had everything working for it. And for the Yanks everything is quite a bit.

There’s a chalkboard outside the press room where the Yankees media people post home team and opposing team lineups before every game. A lot of people, including me, were scratching their heads when they read the lineup Joe Girardi was fielding Friday night. No Alex Rodriguez. No Francisco Cervelli. Juan Miranda, who’s barely hit at all since being called up from the Minors, in the designated hitter’s spot.

Even Robinson Cano was surprised by the lineup card, thinking it was a prank when he saw his name penciled into the cleanup spot. Then