Your Moment of BøøNE @ Nøøn (ish)

 REVEL in his GENIUS

HE'S not the MANAGER we NEED

BUTT, the MANAGER we DESERVE

"I’m personally excited about having the players that we do going back at it because I think there’s a hunger there after we didn’t finish the job, and I think we’re really good."

Yesterday, Aaron Boone appeared on Sports Radio to assure us that:

1. Everything is fine.

2. There is no reason to worry.

3. A great year is upon us.

4. All is going according to plan.

5. We must ignore the naysayers.

6. It's morning in America.

7. The system is the answer.

8. There is always room for Jell-o.

9. Without chemicals, life itself is impossible.

10. A day without orange juice is like a day without sunshine.

11. It's not nice to fool Mother Nature.

12. A mind is a terrible thing to waste.

13. Coke is the Real Thing.

14. Pepsi's the One. 

15. I wish I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner. 

The fall of America can now be blamed squarely on the Yankees

 

The implications of this fall beyond my capabilities.

 

Excitement brews to fever pitch as Yanks and Mets battle for control of France

 

By the dormant dulcimer derriere of Orestes Destrade, wake me when this one is over.

Apparently, the Yanks and Mets are going eyeball to eyeball - mana-v-mana, Cash v Stearns, Clay v Liston, Depp v Heard, Noem v Minnesota, Melania v comfortable shoes - in a bidding war over the services of Ty France.

That's right. Ty France.

Not gonna lie: Dunno who to root for. 

Ty France?

Plays 1B. Good fielder. Hits RH. Age 31. No power. Puts the ball in play. Won a Gold Glove last year. Has played for five different organizations. 

The Mets want him. 

Are we supposed to have opinions on this? 

Well, okay, here goes. If we sign Ty France, we'll have to keep him. That will be one less opening for a position, and one less competition in camp. It will mean less money to spend on a bullpen piece, less to spend on whatever spring injury threatens to derail the season. 

Ty France...

Pass.

How to destroy a Martian

Remember Ron Bloomberg? The great Ron Bloomberg. First DH in baseball history. First pick of the 1967 draft. Signed for $75,000. ($700,000 today.) Married an Elmira girl. Career BA of .293. Named to the national Jewish Hall of Fame. Had a sandwich named after him at the Stage Deli. 

And yet, when Yank fans recall Boomer, they feel that unrequited sense of... "What if?" 

He coulda been - shoulda been - much more. 

Why? Well, it's simple. 

They platooned him. 

In the minors, no less. 

They took away his bat against lefties. 

They took away his future. 

By making him a platoon hitter, they destroyed his chance to become an everyday player. Here was one of the best young hitters in baseball, and at age 21, they made him a lefty-only DH, a one-dimensional player.

They ruined Bloomberg's shot at everyday glory.  

And today, we must wonder: 

Will history repeat itself with Jasson Dominguez?

Apparently, the Yankees are rooting around for a RH-hitting outfielder, somebody to round out their lineup. They supposedly are talking with Austin Slater, whom they acquired last August, and who tweaked his gonad and missed the end of the season. They are also kicking the tires on potential trades. 

They could end up destroying the long-term future of not only The Martian, now 22, but of Spencer Jones, 25. If the Yankees sign a RH outfielder, both Dominguez and Jones will be relegated to platoon status in what could be their most formative years. Scrap them against lefties this season, and they might never get the chance to become complete players. You might as well trade them. 

If The Martian doesn't see lefties, how will he ever learn to hit them? How can you destroy a kid at age 22? 

Well, we'll see. But right now, we are facing the four most feared words in the Yankiverse.

Cashman is calling around.

As for Boomer, he's 77. His Wikipedia page says he's a scout for the Yankees in the Atlanta area. Wishing him the best. Overall, a fine career. But I believe the Yankees let him down. Is history about to repeat?

Alert! Alert ! An Above Average Transmission has just come through.

Houdini hangs it up.

 

So Dave Robertson has finally retired. The very last Yankee on the very last Yankees world championship team has hung up his spikes, which in any universe where moral order still remained would make this organization hang its collective head in shame.

He was called "Houdini," a great, old-fashioned nickname for his ability to wriggle out of the most impossible situations. I seem to have some recollection that he wasn't well-liked, for some clubhouse faux pas or another—which to me as a fan means exactly nothing. 

What was most remarkable about Houdini was his willingness and ability to fit in pretty much anywhere. He was one of the last guys out of the bullpen in 2009, just his second year in the majors, but pitched 4 1/3 shutout innings in the postseason, including wins in the 11th inning against Minnesota and the 13th against the Angels, that wild and wonderful October.

A set-up man by 2011, he went 4-0 with a 1.08 ERA. After The Great One retired, he became the closer, and if he was no  Mariano Rivera, he still had a 3.08 ERA and 39 saves. The Yanks responded by letting him go as a free agent to the White Sox. After a couple decent seasons closing in Chicago, the Yanks brought him back—in one of the better trades Brian Cashman ever made—for the 2017 stretch run, where he went 5-0, with a 1.03 ERA.

He was big again in the playoffs that year, pitching 3 1/3 scoreless innings in the comeback in the Wild Card game against the Twins, and surrendering just one run in 4 2/3 against the Indians. He did get hit hard in Game 6 of the ALCS in Houston, turning a 3-1 deficit into 7-1, but there were, let us say—cough, cheating—extenuating circumstances—cheating, cough—in that series.

The Yanks let him go again after 2018, even though he still had plenty in the tank. He had 20 saves and a 2.40 ERA for the Cubs and Phils in 2022, and as late as 2023, he went 4-2, 2.05, with 14 saves in a stint with the Mets. 

Perhaps the best indication of just how valuable—and valued—he was, was that he was on postseason clubs in 10 of his 17 big-league seasons. In some 19 October series, he had 14 excellent ones, altogether going 6-1 with a save and a 3.40 ERA.  

Yet what's maybe most telling about Dave Robertson's career is not so much anything to do with Robertson himself, but how it reflects on Cashman and the Yankees.

ranger's revealing find about the fate of Yankees' draft picks stands out most of all, I think, in demonstrating how constantly Cashie has just let useful players walk off the team for nothing, or a handful of (not-so-magical) beans. 

Sonny Gray-for-Shedd Long was maybe the most stunning example that ranger dredges up. But it's also telling that The Brain let Robertson walk—twice—without getting so much as a plugged nickel for him. When you constantly tell yourself that the playoffs are just "a crapshoot," you fail to understand just how critical a stacked bullpen is to winning a World Series in this era.  

Even more than a lack of contact hitters, a deep bench, or a punch-out starter, the Yanks' lack of bullpen depth has come back to bite them when the leaves turn. Again and again and again—in 2001, 2004, 2007, 2017, 2020, 2024—this has proved critical to them falling short.  

So long, David Robertson. We Yankees fans will always be grateful, even if the nepo nabobs who run our team probably can't remember who you are.

 

Et tu, Tischay?

 

With the signing of a 13-year-old, it's official: The Yankees are evil.

When the Death Barge recently fired Danny Rowland, its longtime chief international talent scout, who knew enough about it to take a side? 

It's not as if Rowland had signed any Juan Sotos lately. Then again, the recruitment of 16-year-olds has always been a sordid mess, MLB's version of Epstein Island. 

And the Yankees often led the way. They signed Gary Sanchez, Jesus Montero, Dermis Garcia, Hans Montero, Jasson Dominguez - to name just a few. Most soon disappeared, along with their innocence, in the haze of the minor leagues.  

Now comes this horrifying tidbit from the dark edges of the Yankiverse: 

The Yankees have entered into some sort of Satanic agreement with a 13-year-old - yes, thirteen - from Venezuela. His name is Albert Mejias. They'll pay $7 million to his family coaches handlers traffickers, at an age when most kids are finishing Little League. Check this out...  

According to the Internet, this looming payout breaks a record - $6 million to a tyke named Lucias Fox, who signed with the Giants in 2015. Fox never hit and bounced to the Rays, the Royals, the Orioles, the Nationals and finally the White Sox. He's now listed as a free agent, though he hasn't played since 2024.

Of course, none of it mattered. At age 16, Fox became a multi-millionaire (though I'd bet it's all gone, siphoned off agents, alimonies and entourages.) 

Hey, wanna build a Yankee team that, at its core, doesn't give a mosquito's crap about winning? 

Make them millionaires at 16. 

Now, we learn that - thanks to the Yankees - 16 is too old. They're signing a kid whose testicles have yet to fully drop, whose voice is still changing, and they'll bestow upon him more money than most people will make in their lifetimes - all while Hal Steinbrenner complains about the rent on his taxpayer-funded stadium. 

Obviously, Danny Rowland needed to go. As for his replacement? I'd suggest a crackerjack scout who might just be available soon, with a boost from their old pal in the White House. Her name is Ghislaine Maxwell. She knows 13-year-olds.

"The Yankees have two really high-end shortstop prospects, a big group of arms who are probably starters and then the system drops off pretty quickly..."

So says The Athletic - (aka the Gray Lady) - in its new rankings of MLB farm systems, a demeaning appraisal that puts the Yankees at 20th (out of 30), behind the Dodgers, Orioles, Redsocks, Rays, Phillies, Guardians and Mets - all our rivals, who will likely own us through another dead decade debacle.

Okay, I know what you're thinking. Jeeze, Duke, what happened to you? Everybody knows these lists are crapolatta. Remember when Jeeze Montero was our future lord and savior? Remember Ruben Rivera, Brien Taylor, Drew Henson, Jackson Melian, Anthony Volpe? 

You're right. Nobody hyped Ben Rice when he was a single A catcher at Tampa. (It was 2021; he hit .210.) Now, he's our breakout hope. Both the O's and Redsocks took turns atop these lists, and neither has anything to show for it. Besides, who cares? The Dodgers (#2, on the rankings) will win it all, anyway, and in 2027, baseball is going to bid us farewell.  

Yeah, you're right, reader. As always. But chickens do come home to roost, and Cooperstown Cashman's sudden new willingness to trade youth for age - the kind of deals he once renounced - has resulted in a one-way drain flow of Yankee prospects. It started two winters ago, with the Michael King package for Juan Soto, and it ramped up full tilt last August, with the garage sales of young talent. It has continued this winter, and I believe it is setting up the Yankees for a collapse year, one of those seasons when everything goes rotten. 

All this talk about the team returning one year older and one year stronger? It belies the last 20 postseasons. If you're not getting younger, you are sinking into the mud. In this case, you might as well grab your tickets for the Melania movie, because it's all downhill from here.  

For me, one of the saddest parts about this ranking is that it seems to ignore our one true rookie candidate, the intriguing Spencer Jones. You'd think he'd get at least a mention. Yes, he looks the Second Coming of Joey Gallo, but keep in mind that old Googly Eyes enjoyed two 40-HR seasons in Texas, before he came to Gotham and crapped out in a HR-K-BB haze. The Yankees claim that Jones can play CF. If so, he'd be a low budget version of Trent Grisham. If they hadn't given Grisham that qualifying offer... 

Ah, but they did. So Jones is, what, soon to be traded? 

Donno. I suspect they'll deal Jones, probably for a bullpen lug nut. And if you're scoring at home, the Yankees will drop a notch lower on these bullshit farm system rankings. This elevator is going down. Ride it at your own peril.

If Brian Cashman had been general manager in the 1980s, Donnie Baseball would never have played for the Yankees.

 

And so T(oby) J(oseph) Rumfield departs for Rocky Mountain high, Colorado, as the song has it. We can only wish him well—and only speculate upon how the 2024 World Series—or indeed, even the whole 2025 season might have turned out had Brian Cashman decided to give a lefty, .290 Triple-A hitter with some pop and a terrific glove, a chance.

Any chance. Even a cup of coffee.

But no. Rumfield was left to cool his heels in Scranton for two long years, without getting so much as a swing at that sweet Stadium porch. 

Instead, Brain Cashman, The Man Who Bested Scott Boras, Mano-a-Mano—as his press courtiers are now proclaiming him—decided instead to squeeze the last dregs from two, once-great pros, Anthony Rizzo and Paul Goldschmidt, at first base.

It sez here that the 2024 World Series, at least, would've been up for grabs if Cashie had Rumfield out a first. Even had Rummy proved that he couldn't hit a lick, no doubt he charges Mookie Betts' groundball and makes the play that keeps the Fifth Inning Fiasco from being anything but a footnote. 

That happens, and the Yanks go back to L.A. with Judge now hitting and a Dodgers team bleeding so badly that Shohei Ohtani is playing with his sleeve pinned to his jersey. 

Oh, well—who knows? 

Here one is tempted to make assorted Rummy jokes about known knowns and unknown knowns. But it's just too damned annoying.

What we DO know is that Brian Cashman simply wasted two years of Rumfield's life and two years of the Judge Window. All gone now. The question that remains is WHY? Why not give the kid so much as an at-bat at the Big House?

The answer is the predictable one: like most poseurs in positions they are not qualified to hold, Cashman clings to credentials above all else. 

T.J. Rumfield was drafted in the lowly 12th round by the Phillies, a 21-year-old who looked like a big tall geek and had only begun to start in his senior year in college. He wasn't expected to do much, and for his first three years in pro ball, he didn't. 

Then he did, suddenly starting to hit and hit well, and field well, in 2024. 

In Brian Cashman's world, this is the equivalent of the moment in the 1960s sci-fi shows when someone asks the evil, omniscient robot the question, "Why?" It just did not compute. But rather than letting his head explode, Cashie did what he usually does when some minor leaguer or another shows unexpected skill: he buried him.

Don Mattingly had a pretty similar resumé, a-way back in the early 1980s. He was younger when he started in the minors, to be sure, and he always hit—for average. In 4 minor-league seasons, though, Donnie Baseball never hit more than 10 home runs. 

He was a singles and doubles guy, who didn't walk all that much, and had no speed. The Yankees didn't really know what to do with him, and as they were just moving into "King George: The Mad Years," it's almost miraculous that they didn't deal him for one of the nonentities they did deal away the future for back then—another Ken Phelps or Bob Sykes or Dale Murray. 

Instead, even after The Hit Man batted a meh .283 with only 4 homers in 91 games in his rookie year, they traded his main rival for the job, Steve "Bye-Bye" Balboni, to Kansas City, for a mediocre middle reliever named Mike Armstrong. 

This was foolish enough. Armstrong was nothing of the kind, turning in one so-so season before fading into permanent hambone woes. 

Balboni proved to be nothing to write home about, but he had a nice little career for himself, hitting 36 homers to help KC win the World Series in 1985. (The Yanks, of course, signed him back on when he was near the end. Some organizational bad habits precede even Cashman.)

Mattingly, meanwhile, somehow, almost overnight, turned himself into one of the best hitters in the American League, winning a batting title, and an MVP, and lining shot after shot into the right field stands and all over the big ballpark.

"You made the right call," as that baseball ad used to say. 

In retrospect, it's easy enough to see why. Mattingly was a lefthanded hitter in Yankee Stadium, Balboni a righty. Donnie hit for a much higher average, was a Gold Glove fielder at his position, and could play left field. 

If the Balboni trade was a poor one, the Yankees, at least, had cleared a spot for a true superstar to emerge. 

Neevvver woulda happened with Cashman.

Why? Because Balboni was drafted in the second round. Mattingly? Just the 19th round of the 1979 June amateur draft.

In the mind of Brian Cashman, a credential is forever. It's why he picks up so many of those former, high-draft picks who have since proven to be busts, or broken down from injury. Somebody else once thought they were can't-miss, right? 

If Cashman were in charge then—and sometimes it feels like he was—Mattingly stays in Columbus until he's rusted away. Or he's the one who would've gone to Kansas City, for the great Mike Armstrong.

What Cashie has picked up for Rumfield, of course, is Angel Chivilli, a guy who wasn't drafted at all...which to Cashman lends him only a greater aura and mystique. Plus he comes loaded with all sorts of "what-if" scouting assessments and sabremetrics. 

He "avoids bats" (always a good idea). He throws hard (97, which is pretty normal these days). He has all kinds of potential. All unrealized.

Hey, I wish the guy well. Who wouldn't, with a name like Angel Chivilli? But essentially, he's a great big string bean, who in six years of pro ball has an 8-20 record in the minors, and 3-8 in the NL. Plus an ERA of 7.60. (But wait! Only 5.03 out of the Rockies! Woo-hoo!)

I hope he becomes our bullpen ace. I hope he's the successor to Mariano we've all been waiting for. I hope he is everything Brian Cashman wishes for and more. But there's no indication that he will be—just more wishin' an' hopin' an' prayin'. While yet another perfectly good ballplayer is sent on his way.

 

Remembering Michael Siani, the 5-day Deodorant Pad Yankee

"To make room on the 40-man roster, the Yankees designated outfielder Michael Siani for assignment. The move came just five days after New York claimed him off waivers from the Dodgers."

What's that you ask? Do I remember the Micheal Siani Era? How could anyone forget...

It started with the shooting in Minnesota, lasted through the character assassinations and the town hall attack, and peaked with Sydney Sweeney festooning the famous Hollywood sign with her blown-out bras. Springsteen wrote his song, Bovino went home, and Yank fans assumed that Siani would last at least until opening day, or the invasion of Greenland, whichever came first. But the Siani flame burned too brightly. It couldn't last. Few epochs raged so wildly as Siani's five days as a Yankee. 

Just for reminders: Siani was the good-glove/no-bat CF claimed by the Yankees last week after being ditched by the Dodgers. His arrival ended the Caleb Ort Era, which is remembered for - well - Caleb Ort. That coincided with the rising mayhem in Minneapolis, along with the Oscar nominations. Siani was going to backup CF in case something happened to Trent Grisham, and maybe he would add to the reasons why Spencer Jones would be traded. No matter. He's gone, and the Angel Chivilli Era has begun.  

That's right. Angel Chivilli, from the Rockies. He's a 23-year-old string-bean RH reliever, who posted a 7.06 ERA last year over 43 appearances - which is sorta incredible - a guy that bad pitching that many innings. Apparently, Brian Cashman blames Coors Field, which is sorta like Sydney Sweeney blaming the Hollywood sign. Cashman sees untapped potential, although my guess is that he's got his hand on the Waiver Wire buzzer like a B-lister contestant on Celebrity Jeopardy. 

Chivilli comes to the Yankees in a trade for T.J. Rumfeld, an excruciatingly slow-rising 1B prospect who has inhabited Yankee minor league rosters since Trump's first term, and who was likely to never escape Scranton. I always liked Rumfeld, and I suspect he'll be a decent MLB first-baseman, but not for the Yankees.

So, write your epitaphs for the Siani Era. Here's mine: 

HERE LIES SIANI

NEXT STOP, TOLEDO?

HE COULD'A BEEN

THE NEXT ROSS MOSCHITTO

No announcements. No movements. No nothings. This is the Yankees.

Three weeks from pitchers and catchers, six from the first tweaked gonads of spring, here is how everything shapes up for the 2026 Yankees.

1. No Carlos Rodon until May. 

2. No Anthony Volpe until June.

3. No Gerrit Cole until July.

4. No Devin Williams and Luke Weaver. Period.

5. No replacements for Devin Williams and Luke Weaver.

6. The ghost of Paul Goldschmidt is wandering Earth. 

7. Clarke Schmidt might return in September.

8. To round out the rotation, we have David Weathers' kid and a Rule 5 pitcher.

9. Everybody is a year older. (And 15 members of our 40-man roster are over 30.)

10. Greenland hates us.

11. Canada hates us.

12. Europe, Venezuela - hell - everybody hates us.

13. Except for Putin. He loves us. 

14. The Giants have a new head coach.

15. Aaron Boone likes what he sees.

OH MY GOD, AM I STILL A YANKEES FAN ? – I MUST BE IN H E L L ! H E L L L ! ! ! H E L L L L L L L ! ! ! !

 

Ten thoughts on the upcoming Yankee debacle

As we near spring training, a lightning round on the current state of the Yankees...

1. As always, everything - everything!- will hinge on Aaron Judge. When he hits, the offense comes alive. When he slumps or - God forbid - gets injured, we are dead. 

2. He's been healthy now for the last two years. Are we feeling lucky?

3. No player is more likely to feel the effects of being one year older more than Giancarlo Stanton. He is 36. He will surely miss playing time with injuries. The concern is that he'll produce less, when playing. (In last year's postseason, he went 5-for-26 - .192.)

4. Once upon a time, it was believed that Stanton would eventually finish his career at 1B. Not gonna happen. In fact, he will probably never play another inning in the outfield. 

5. The team still needs a RH-hitting 1B/OF, a bullpen lug nut, and a RH-hitting catcher.

6. Apparently, the Yankees will seek to fill those needs by dumpster diving. There is always a Franchy Cordero out there. 

7. Slowly but steadily, the Yankees have reverted to doing what Brian Cashman, in his early days as GM, vowed to never do: Trade the farm system to stay competitive. That's what led to the drought of the 1980s and early 1990s. He must be feeling the pressure. It's going on 17 years.

8. For the first time in this decade, the AL East looks stacked.  

9. The Yankees will heap a ton of pressure on Gerrit Cole to return before the all-star break and, at age 35, reinvent himself as a pitcher. 

10. The Yankees will enter 2026 as NY's "other" team. It's not clear how that will affect the franchise. But it will definitely have an impact.