This isn't just a winning streak; it's the beginning of the Frankie Cervelli era

He arrived May 7 amid a boofest, the angriest Yankiverse since last fall. Next day, he caught a shutout.

He and Jorge are the two Yanks who don't wear batting gloves. (Not sure whether he soaks his hands in pee. Alphonso, get down there with your sniffer!)

One day, we'll see payback for the Tampa manager who rejoiced over the cheapness of that collision during a meaningless exhibition game two springs ago. A career-minor leaguer barreled into him, broke his wrist, costing Francisco Cervelli most of 2008. (Shelley Duncan retailiated by spiking a guy in the nuts; for that, Shelley goes into our Hall, first ballot.)

We've seen enough of Frankie Cervelli (if Jorge is Georgie, Francisco is Frankie) to recognize the next Yankee catcher. We're far better with him than with Kevin Cash, who we signed in case Molina went down. Cervelli is Molina with speed, Molina on Red Bull.

Last night, Cervelli singled and drew three pickoff attempts. Yeah, he got thrown out stealing second, but think about it: Our catcher stealing second.

For several years, our farm system had a black hole at catcher. Around 2007, we started shooting money from a firehose to sign young backstops: Montero, Romine, Weems, et al. They are long-term projects, likely to arrive after the glaciers have melted. (They're pushed farther into science fiction by the dubious strategy of having Montero and Romine DH half the time at Tampa, a move I hope ends when the summer leagues launch.)

Yes, there will be wrinkles. No, he won't hit .330.

But we have our catcher. The Cervelli Era has begun.