The three most terrifying words in the Yankiverse are once again being uttered: "Cashman is talking."

Last night, Brian Cashman did his annual sleepout for Covenant House, a shelter for NYC homeless youth - (a worthy cause, donate here) - which always lures Gammonites like peanut butter on a mousetrap. The event regularly assures terrifies Yank fans, with Cashman suggesting that all is collaping hunky dory, and everything is going straight to Hell according to plan. For example...

* The decision to give Trent Grishman a $22 million one-year qualifying offer, which Grish quickly snatched-up and devoured - was actually Cashman's hope, sorta like how Trump secretly wanted to wallpaper Congress with Epstein's babysitter list. Says Cashman, the Yankees have eliminated their void in CF, and now can turn to signing Cody Bellinger and/or Kyle Tucker. 

Yeah, right. What a crock. We all know Owner Hal's financial plans will be severely compromised by Grisham's decision, and that another expensive outfielder looks extremely unlikely. But at least for one night, in the good graces of charity, let's pretend we're on the right track. Cashman says he is "talking" to agents. Woopie...

* The Yankees supposedly have an outside shot at trading for Tarik Skubal, whom the Tigers might trade this winter, rather than eventually deal with Scott Boras and a billion dollar contract. The most likely suitors - according to Jim Bowden of The Athletic - include the Dodgers, Mets, Mariners, Redsocks and - gulp - Yankees. 

Bowden suggests Cashman could offer a package of Spencer Jones, Will Warren, Carlos Lagrange and Bryce Cunningham, two minor league arms who do not rhyme with "Hitler." I wonder about that. Seems to me that Detroit would want far more than Will Warren and a basket of fries, and those competing teams all have far more trade chips.  

Also, there is the long term question. Skubal is a West Coast boy - born in California, schooled in Arizona, college in Seattle - and if the Yankees did somehow outbid everyone in a trade package, they would then face another Juan Soto season - that is, a star in his walk year, where every game is processed through the prism of his impending free agency. Honestly, I hope we avoid another Soto. Yankee fans gave that asshole their unbridled love, and he pissed on it for a luxury box. Never again.  

One other aspect of Bowden's speculative story rouses this old fern. He suggests that Jones is more highly coveted than we may be thinking. The crowd in this dive bar, which includes me, has a tendency to obsess over strikeouts, which are Jones' weakness. Bowden calls him "an enticing blend of power and speed," as evidenced by 35 HRs and 29 SBs last year. He's also described as a better-than-average defensive corner OF.  

So, here's one last skinny on Cashman. What if Jones goes somewhere and becomes a superstar? What if Cashman trades away - gulp - the next Aaron Judge? That would become his legacy, and it would overwhelm a hundred nights of sleeping on the sidewalk. Yeah, it's a longshot. But I don't think Cashman dares pull the trigger. And, honestly, I hope he doesn't.

Every winter, the Yankees shell out for at least one star player. This year, was it Trent Grisham?

Two days later, the algorithms of the Yankiverse are still trying to wrap their greasy tentacles around Tuesday's revelation: 

Trent Grisham has accepted the one-year, $22 million qualifying offer.

WTF? Who saw that coming? Grisham was following a breakout season. He should be chasing a five-year deal, with a luxury box and turndown service. Instead, he signs for one piddily season? One? Who figured? And what now?

Suddenly, Grisham's one-year deal feels like an overpay. (Certainly, Grisham saw it that way.) Now, instead of bidding bigly for Kyle Tucker and/or Cody Bellinger, the Yankees are left with an outfield logjam that includes The Martian and Spencer Jones - unless Brian Cashman trades them. Either way, the Yanks are left wondering if Grisham's 34 HR season was a fluke or a breakout.

I have an idea: Let's get drunk. Nobody likes a Negative Nelly. Let's get bigly blasted and assume that Owner Hal still plans to shell out for at least one major free agent. If Tucker and Bellinger are out, that means... well... fill my glass.

Some possibilities...

Alex Bregman. He'd nail down 3B, piss off Boston, free Ryan McMahon (great glove and 189 strikeouts) for a trade, and - in strategic moments, for old time's sake - bang a garbage can lid. He's 32. Three-year deal, and we're done clutching pearls over 3B.

Eugenio Suarez. Another 3B. Hit 49 HRs last year. Bats RH. He's 34, maybe a tad too old. But 49 HRs. 

Michael King. Prodigal son. Last year, his innings dropped to 73, and his ERA rose to 3.44. He'll be 31. He knows and understands NY. A number two starter.

Bo Bichette. Coming off career season. Take that, Toronto. Can he play SS, freeing Yanks to trade miserable Anthony Volpe? Or 3B, moving McMahon (great glove and .219 BA.)  

Tatsuya Imai. Pitcher from Japan. Age 27. It's long overdue for the Yankees. Remindful of Masahiro Tanaka. Cashman should be all-in on this guy, but let's face it: If the Dodgers, Mets or Phillies want him - (and they surely do) - Hal will finish runner-up in the bidding.

Scrap heapers and salary dumps. Bingo. How many Ryan Yarboroughs does it take to screw in a fan base? 

Aside from Imai, nobody checks all the boxes. Neither did Grisham (who, it should be noted - according to the bylaws of the Geneva Convention - cannot be traded until June.) 

Damn. The Yankees could hit 2026 as a near carbon copy of 2025. Or Cashman could launch a complete teardown. Right now, I wonder if he even knows?

Leading off, in centerfield, number 12, Trent Grisham... Meet the new Yanks. Same as the old Yanks.

Well, so much for that wild and crazy Yankee winter spending spree.  

Remember the days of big money, unlimited hope? Back when the Yankees bought pennants, when they always placed the shiniest star under our Christmas tree, when they always signed the best free agent, when anything shy of a world championship was a piddling failure?

Yep, 15 years ago, give or take. A lost generation, a forgotten legacy.

These days, reaching the ALCS is viewed a buttons-popping success. Apparently, the Yankees don't plan on breaking up that great and glorious 2025 team.

Thus, yesterday, we greeted the first major event of 2026 (the season, not the year.) The Yankees will return Trent Grisham in CF, and though they claim otherwise - (they always claim to be "in the running" for big free agents) - they will now almost surely finish as runners-up in the fishing derbies for Kyle Tucker and/or Cody Bellinger. With Grish returning, the outfield is full, and major decisions must soon be made on Jason Dominguez and Spencer Jones. 

The '26 Yankees could be dead ringers for last year's team. What now?

1. Okay. Let me limb off the ledge. It's not the worst that could happen. Nobody died. The Yankees believe Grisham's 2025 season was not a one-off, but a career breakout, elevating him into the top tier of outfielders. Last season, Grish hit nearly 50 points higher, clubbed twice as many HRs, than ever before. He's pushing 30, not too old. The fear - Aaron Hicks syndrome - is unrealistic. We have him for one year, just one - not eight. But still, the guy has spent most of the last four seasons unable to hit .200. A slow start, a tweaked gonad, a plate of bad clams - that could set him into an off-year regression. You have to worry.

2. With Grisham planted in CF, the Yankees probably must choose between Jasson Dominguez and Spencer Jones. Keep one, trade the other. They will desperately need pitching. They might chase Michael King, or that new Japanese hurler, but they'll probably try to bundle prospects in a trade - (after squeezing their farm system last August.) Cashman's epic quests to land his great white whale - an ace pitcher - have historically been awful. Also, in this new reality, anybody the Yankees target could simply go elsewhere - across the continent, to the Dodgers, or across the city, to the Mets. Both have more money and are willing to spend it (and that's before Hal just appropriated $22 million to a career .218 hitter.) 

3. To sell tickets, they have to do something. If the Yankees go with the same lineup as last year - (minus Bellinger, a huge loss) - well, that's going to be a tough sell. With every ticket, they should add a subscription to CompuServe. If they rerun the same lineup as last season, I'm already yawning. 

4. But but BUT... the idea of a complete Cashman "Death to Smoochy" teardown should terrify us all. Every now and then, in a particularly cold and barren winter, Cashman turns into Lady MacBeth, with one murderous deal leading to another. I can't help but think that Cashman didn't expect Grisham to accept that one year qualifying offer. He figured Grish would head for the door, and the Yankees would come away with a draft pick and Bellinger in CF. Now, dominoes are about to fall. This should frighten us more than a lunch invitation from Mister Bone Saw. Things happen, they say. I wonder what's next? 

Grish takes the money and stays

Trent Grisham has accepted the Yankees' $22 million qualifying offer.

A miscalculation by the brain trust? 

Off Season Fun With Rebuses

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2)

3)

With signing of Yarbrough, Cashman sends note claiming to still be alive

Breaking News: Yesterday, the Death Barge signed rotational lug nut Ryan Yarbrough - (4.36 ERA over 64 IP) - signaling to Yank fans everywhere that:

1. Cooperstown Cashman is still alive - ALIVE! out there, somewhere - sifting through the scrap yards for spare widgets.

2. Food Stamps Hal Steinbrenner still loves a thrift shop bargain. That underwear looks a bit gnarly but - hey, 99 cents! - who cares? 

3. It's always pitching, pitching, pitching.

4. Maybe - just maybe - those rumored deals for Paul Skenes and Tarik Skubal won't happen.

5. When you get the choice to sit it out or dance... I hope you'll dance.

So, Yarbrough? Hard to process. First time I've said the name in three months. Nothing against him. Last year, on June 1, he almost looked like The Answer: Six innings, one run, against the Dodgers. Then something tweaked. Not the same in September. So... he's back? As Billie Joe would say, Wake me up when September ends...

At some point, soon, Cash will need to spend. Today, we'll learn a lot about how he plans to do it. If Trent Grisham chooses to stay, the ensuing OF logjam will prompt the trade of The Martian and/or Spencer Jones. If Grisham leaves, well, we're stuck with The Martian and/or Spencer Jones. Chose your underwear.  

The Yarb could be a decent 6th starter. That's not nothing. You never have too much pitching. We don't know who'll show up in Tampa with elbow pain, but somebody always does. Last year's final four were built by big money (Dodgers), young arms (Mariners), overachievers (Brewers) and unadulterated Yankee hatred (Jays.) The Redsocks and Orioles, if they do nothing this winter, could still be vastly improved. 

Soon, the Yankees must do something huge. 

Today, all we know is that Cashman is alive, and that Hal is counting the beans. Tomorrow? Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance. And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance... o, fuck it, go to the bar and do a shot. 

Welcome to 2025's last day of infinite Yankee expectations

Tomorrow, as the free world knows, Trent Grisham will decide on the Yankees' $22 million qualifying offer, setting into motion one of two competing alt-realities for our looming winter of discontent. There are two scenarios: 

1. With Grisham in CF, hoovering not only long flies but much of Food Stamp Hal's 2026 mad money. The resulting OF logjam would probably eliminate the Yankees from bidding wars for Cody Bellinger and/or Kyle Tucker, leaving next year's outfield to look much like the one we just scrapped from our October hiking boots.

2. With Grisham gone to KC, Texas or Utica - 6-7, eh? - to be replaced in CF by Bellinger, Spencer Jones, a defensive stopgap - or even Jazz Chisholm, who played there in Miami. Tucker could wind up in LF, sending the Martian into trade exile. A complete overhaul. 

What's coming? Dunno. But don't despair. Not today, anyway. 

Instead, let's savor our last few hours of unlimited hope. 

Today, the Death Barge is said to be chasing Tucker, Edwin Diaz, Michael King, Pete Alonzo, Alex Bregman, your mom, and even Tatsuya Imai - this year's Yamamoto - a 27-year-old, RH starter and three-time all-star in Japan. They could sign a SS. They could sign a 3B. They could sign Harrison Bader. My God, today, the Yankees can sign anybody. 

People, this is our last day of unlimited promise in 2025. 

Tomorrow, Grisham will set into motion concrete blocks of reality that shall turn the team into a nautical tribute ballad by Gordon Lightfoot. Tomorrow, we will return to the regular losing template: The Yankees will sign one free agent - they always get one - and finish second in the bids for the rest, the tier that would truly make a difference. They'll stay competitive. They'll snag a few salary dumps - a new Fernando Cruz or maybe another Yerry de los Santos. 

We'll comb the bargain basements. The big names - Tucker, Alonso, Diaz, Imai - will get snapped up by the Dodgers, Phillies or Mets, the elites in MLB's new world order. 

But today - ahh, today - all bets are off. 

Tomorrow, it can turn cold. 

Today, for the last time in 2025, the Yankees can do anything!

Only three shopping days until The Trent Dent

Tuesday,  November 18 - a day that will live in infancy - Trent Grisham must decide whether to accept or reject the Yankees $22 million qualifying offer, setting a template for the 2026 lineup.

There is really nothing else to say. 

Rumors suggest Grisham will ditch the offer and head to free agency, in search of a three year deal. If so, the Yankees would have an extra $22 million in movie money, plus a 4th round draft pick. 

The difference in alt-Yankee future lineups is staggering. 

If he stays...

cf Grisham
rf Judge
1b Rice
2b Chisholm
dh Stanton
lf Dominguez/Jones/somebody? 
3b McMahon/Cabrera 
c Wells/Rice/somebody? 
ss Cabalero/Volpe/somebody?

If he bolts...

2b Chisholm (or cf?)
rf Judge
lf Tucker/Bellinger?
dh Stanton
1b Rice (or c)
cf Jones/Dominguez/Somebody?
3b McMahon/Cabrera? 
c Wells/Rice? 
ss Cabalero/Volpe/a 2b/Somebody?

Until Grisham decides, there is no sense trying to ponder the Yankee paths to success in 2026. In three days, Brian Cashman will learn which alt-Yankiverse he'll inhabit. 

Three days... 

"Have you no sense of decency, sir, at long last? Have you left no sense of decency?"

 

Okay, so maybe Hal & Pal are not—quite—the moral equivalent of Tailgunner Joe McCarthy (Never to be confused with Marse Joe McCarthy). Or the current inhabitant of the Shambolic White House.

But really.  How many damned MVPs does Aaron Judge have to win before our very own Nepo & Nemo put a decent team around the man?

Col. Ruppert, as cold-blooded an accented-German-American as ever was, this side of Trump's grandfather, not only brought The Babe to town, but surrounded him with Murderers' Row and the greatest baseball stadium ever built—all on his own dime! 

Ed Barrow and George Weiss, a pair of gimlet-eyed, racist sharks...nonetheless built the world's greatest farm system, ever, to keep funneling the supporting talent to those other, three-time MVPs, Joe DiMaggio and Yogi Berra and Mickey Mantle.

Even Hal's daddy, not always the best judge of talent in the world, dug deep to give us Reggie Jackson, among others.

 

Whatta we got?

We got squaaaaat! As they sang in the greatest baseball musical ever made. Or something like that.

(By the way, technically, doesn't Katherine Hepburn have an asterisk next to those 4 Oscars?  Didn't she tie, back in 1968 or so, with...Barbra Streisand???)

Well, they were dropping a lot of acid in the sixties.

Hal has no such excuse.  

Get Judge a damned team. NOW.

You unsmiling, jumpy-eyed, kinky-booted, silver-spoon-mouthed putz.

Only four wild days until Trent Grisham Decision Day across the Yankiverse

Gather your riot helmets, everybody. The next four days will bring a crazed marathon of felony-grade Yankeetainment. 

First, today, at noon... the infamous Cortica Jug Game - pitting mini-goliaths SUNY Cortland and Ithaca College against each other in the fiercest, most deranged and - by far - drunkest rivalry in college sports. 

Who can forget the Cortica Riot of 2013, when fans massed near a small mountain of kegs, barking, puking, flipping cars and diving off roofs - (that's an actual shot) - eventually requiring police from across the area to quell the insurrection. Thirty were arrested. The school bigwigs were shocked - SHOCKED - and the rivalry was nearly ended. But here we are.  

Why care about a small college rivalry in an area that is steadily moving Metward? (Both Binghamton and Syracuse, former Yankee minor league outposts, are now Met towns.) Well, next year, they'll play the game at Yankee Stadium. Two years back, the did it and sold 40,000 tickets, second-highest in history for a Division III outing. The year earlier, they played at Metlife Stadium, selling 45,000.) Thinking sellout...

Sunday, it's the regular Welcome New Giants Coach game and debacle, featuring recently promoted Mike Kafka, as he dons the Brian Daboll Headset of Doom. The Giants are 2-8, third in the NFL Tankathon for draft picks. Can they keep it up? And should we care? 

As everyone knows, if the Giants draft an eight-foot tall QB, he will turn out to be two dwarfs piggyback. Still, this game does bring out the pageantry. What will the flyover banner say?  

Then... Epstein Monday! Emails, notes, cards, handwritten birthday poetry - it's bubbling up, one grimy morsel at a time. Bill Clinton? Boom. Alan Dershowitz? Boom. Your mom? Boom. Who's next? This isn't going away. 

Here on Epstein Island - this is a tale of our castaways, we're here for a long long time - Mr. Howell was always diddling Mary Ann. We've been at this for six years. By the time we're done, Ghislaine will have a podcast, maybe with Matt Gaetz. Hunker down. The worst is yet to come.  

Then... Tuesday... Trent Grisham Decision Day! The 29-year-old CF will tell the Yankees whether he's accepting their $22 million qualifying offer, and thus, whether he will return in 2026. 

If he says YES - that is, the Vatican chimney belches white smoke - there goes our shot at signing Kyle Tucker and/or Cody Bellinger. The course of our entire Yankee winter will be fundamentally altered. 

Four days from now, we'll know everything. 

Get ready to riot. 

Congrats to Aaron Judge, the rightful MVP. Now, will the Yankees step up and give him the support he deserves?

Congrats to The Captain - our Captain - Aaron Judge, who TOTALLY deserves to be 2025 AL Most Valuable Player, in the same way that Francis McDormand needed to win the 2017 Best Actress award for Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, even though Meryl Streep was the secret crowd fave for portraying Katherine Graham in The Post. 

I know, I know... You're wringing your hands because, while McDormand delivered in the role of a guilt-distressed mom, so did Cal Raleigh for the Mariners. Damn, the guy hit 60 HRs and drove in 125, as a catcher.  Those are Jane Fonda numbers, maybe even Julia Roberts. And McDormand goes down as one of the greats - tied for second all-time, with three Best Actress Oscars, after Katherine Hepburn with four. (Nobody beats the Hepper. Not even Sally "You love me" Field.)

But let's be clear here: 

Judge is Nicholson, Hanks, De Niro...

Judge is Meryl Fucking Streep. (Two Oscars and 17 nominations.)

Any look at the numbers puts Judge in his own movie, maybe opposite Debra Winger. Seattle fans can extol Raleigh's values as catcher/team leader - won't deny them, definitely a Hillary Swank toughness vibe - but any Yank fan knows that, without Judge, that sorry lineup would have been the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, or maybe even Show Girls, barely winning more games than it lost, and it probably would have have missed the postseason. 

Wait. There's that word: Postseason.

Yeah. That's it, the word of 2025: To Yank fans, it beats "6-7" and "Gen Z Stare." And it sits in the abyss, at the underside of every award. 

It's hard to give a shit about anybody's trophy case after the Yankee clown car once again ditched itself in early October. Judge now has three MVP trophies. He's up there with McDormand, a great actress, for sure. He's a lock for Cooperstown. Someday, he'll have a burger kiosk in Monument Park. He'll host a podcast, joke with A-Rod in pregame shows, maybe get elected to Congress (running against Texiera?) He'll be a generational icon of New York City, a game show host, if not a talking head for Good Morning America, and he'll wind up among the greatest Yankees, the greatest HR hitters in history, the greatest stars of his time.

But will he have a ring? 

Starting to wonder.

The Yankees have now squandered three MVP seasons from Judge, and a Cy Young year from Gerrit Cole. At least, this time, Judge put together a worthy October - he hit .500, 13-for-26 prying that monkey off his back. Cole, on the other hand, must still exorcize the shame of not covering first on a routine grounder. You'd hate to see that in the permanent ledger.

All hail Aaron Judge! He deserves every plaque, every trophy, every Best Actor accolade. But he's starting to pinch. Without a ring, he's just an empty billboard outside Ebbing. He needs a supporting cast.