Bob Klapish notes

The Unit, cold and aloof from the first day, never fit in with the Yankees, spending most of his time at his locker with his back to his teammates. . . . Maybe it was Johnson’s way of acting tough in a big market, or maybe it was his frustration at the stunning number of fastballs he threw over the middle of the plate, and the sliders that were usually flat.

Whatever the reason, Johnson was unhappy enough to look daggers at Johnny Damon last August when the outfielder tried to rally the slumping Yankees. In the middle of the clubhouse, Damon shouted to the whole team, “Come on, you [expletive]. Wake up!” From across the room, Johnson stared coldly, so unnerving Damon that he later asked a club official, “Did I do something wrong?”

The Yankees obviously haven’t publicly indicted Johnson in their efforts to trade him, but it’s clear no one will miss him. One employee said, “Randy was the kind of guy who, if you asked him, ‘How’s it going?’ he’d stare you down and say, ‘What do you mean by that?’ He was the most socially awkward person I ever met around here.”

On the flip side we get this story from Tom Singer in Phoenix:

Johnson’s New York story ended without a triumphant epilogue for a very human reason. He lost his brother, Greg, a few weeks ago. In placing a call to express his condolences, Yankees general manager Brian Cashman picked up vibes from Johnson that he could appreciate again working closer to home.

“He didn’t ask to be traded, and took great effort to make sure I didn’t misunderstand,” Cashman said Tuesday, on his own conference call to discuss the deal in which the Yankees received four players. “This wasn’t something on my radar screen.

“But when he shared what was going on with his life, I thought, well, let’s see if there’s something with a West Coast team that would make sense for us.”

I guess the Phoenix story is the begining of the humanization of the Unit for his return to Arizona.Â