Yankeeography: Chris Stewart

Please note: satire, do not sue or take seriously unless advised by a physician.

Due to their strong anti-piracy stance, the YES Network was hacked by shadowy internet collective Anonymous over the weekend. One of the more interesting files that was released for public consumption was a newly minted Yankeeography episode featuring none other than the current backstop for the Yankees, Chris "Dynamo" Stewart. As a responsible blogger, I knew it was my duty to share this work of art with the PSB(A?X?) community. We pick up the episode about thirty minutes in, after we’ve learned that Chris was raised by a family of Quakers and learned to hit by bashing rats in his grandmother’s crawlspace:

(cue graphics and sparkly effects)

John Sterling: After an outstanding inaugural campaign, Stewart continued to add poise and presence to the Yankees lineup and locker room. It was needed all the more after the departure of the greedy, money-obsessed Russell Martin.

Joe Girardi: Marty was a big part of our success last year, but we knew we had gamers like Cervy and Stewarty who would be able to handle the staff and knew what it took to be a great catcher.

Sterling: Unfortunately for the Yankees, Francisco Cervelli was swarmed by fire ants, and was forced to the 60-day DL after an excellent start. It was then that Stewart knew he had to step up his game to the next level.

Chris Stewart: I knew the team was going to be counting on me, so I went to my shaman an extra day every week and took up Krav Maga. I was going to have to be at 110% if the team was going to survive all the injuries.

Sterling: And count on him they did. Stewart handled the staff like a mother sheep would handle her calves: attentively and gently. But beyond even the great work he was doing with the staff, Stewart began to hit. Sort of.

Stewart: I realized that practicing on Nana’s rats had made me an impatient sort of hitter. Considering how terrible some of the guys the team was bringing in were, I figured I should take some walks and stop making so many damn outs. It dawned on me that hitting a home run or two wasn’t the worst idea, either.

Sterling: In spite of how well the pitching staff was performing and Chris learning how not to make an out every time, fans still lamented the loss of known pro-Canadian radical Martin, as he continued to play well for the Pittsburgh Pirates. But on a fateful July day, the 20th to be precise, he would finally win the hearts of even the most jaded Yankee fan.

Girardi: I knew Stewarty was tired after the night game, but he’s a grinder. He was gonna be ready for the Saturday game and was going to help us. And shit, what was I going to do, start Romine? I’d sooner send myself up there to bat.

Sterling: It was a game the Yankees needed to have. After a tough loss to the Red Sox the night before, the Yankees had built up a 4-2 lead in the eighth, with Daniel Nava on first and David Robertson on the mound. Dustin Pedroia stepped up to the plate for an at bat that would become a part of Yankees lore.

Dustin Pedroia: With the team losing, I figured my scrappiness would help the team scrap together a few runs and scrap our way back into the scrap. Boy, was I wrong!

Sterling: Pedroia swung on and belted, er, popped one up behind the plate. Stewart was ready.

Stewart: I would have run over my own Quaker mother for that ball.

Sterling : Stewart sprang from his catching position with the grace of a young Fred Astaire, sprinting to the wall and stretching his arm as far as his mortal ligaments would allow. His glove entered the crowd empty, but returned with an out. But Stewart was far from done.

Daniel Nava: I was soooo bored standing on first. I saw Stewart make the catch, and I figured what the hell. I’ll run to second.

Stewart: I saw him running, cocked my arm back and knew, this guy is DOA.

Sterling: Stewart would throw a laser beam to second to nail Nava, preserving the lead, game, and in time, a World Series vic–

(ejects tape/dvd/abstract form of holding data)

Whoa, sorry. I let that run a little too long. I don’t want to give too much away.