Get thee to a nunnery, Yankiverse: The Scroogebrenners apparently are willing to let Jete, Andy and Mo - in their final incarnations - wallow on a .500 team

Yesterday, the terrible words crashed upon us like the news of Pearl Harbor: KEPPINGER HAS SIGNED ELSEWHERE!!! My first thought was, omg, we were trying to sign the umpire? But no, it was Keppinger! KEPPINGER! And he hath scorned us! A utility infielder! A few botched grounders removed from Jason Nix!  Gone! And Chavez, too! Along with the outfielder, Schiensomethingorther - whose name I now never have to spell.

Gone. The free agent nobody swamp is nearly drained, and we never even dabbled our big toe.

Which means the Stein-189 campaign continues. We are marching to Pretoria. And now, stand back, everybody, as we place our faith in a concept that terrifies both physicists and magicians: Yes, it's the return of the Brian Cashman trade. 

God help us. Let's hope the Mayans were right. I'm rooting for a giant winged snake to attack NYC. Placing faith in a Cashman deal is like betting that Taylor Swift's next relationship will last forever.

We've talked about Cash's deals. How opposing GMs won't trade anything to the Yankees unless it has staples in the shoulder. It's historical: They've roused the fan base for decades, blaming the evil Yankees for stealing the free agents they were too cheap to keep. Thus, any deal with NY must involve sawdust in the oil. Remember Steve Trout? The guy barely had a hip, but the White Sox just held up their hands and said, "We din know." And let's not forget the Man from Near Spokane - yes, Seattle, home of "Here Come the Brides" - Dr. Michael Pineda. I know, I know - the Yankees subjected him to an MRI before the deal was consummated, and everything checked out... but really now: Does anyone really think Seattle didn't suspect an issue? They'd seen Pineda's radar numbers plummet. You don't trade such a pitcher for a DH, unless you have reason to believe - beyond the x-rays - that something's wrong. And if you think something's wrong, hey... trade him to the Yankees. Nobody will blame you. I'll always believe the Ichiro deal was proof that Seattle had a guilty conscience.

Well, when Cashman starts trading, two things happen: 1. Our farm system gets drained. 2. We get somebody else's headache.

I'm sorry. I would love to be more hopeful. But the Yankees have not won a damn thing in the last 10 years without a $250 million stimulus package of free agents, a wave on par with Roosevelt's New Deal -- and two years in, because of our expectations, we shuttled a serviceable AJ Burnett - who might have won the Cy Young Award last year, if he hadn't missed two months with a broken eye-socket - for a plate of magic beans. And now, they talk about running the Yankees like a business.

Listen: The KC Royals are a business. The Yankees are something more.

Or at least, that's what I always thought.

Maybe we should all reassess our emotional ties to this organization. Would we spend so much time thinking about YUM?

Well, another team could declare 2012 a rebuilding year and move on. We can't even do that, because it's the Sophie Tucker swan song for Jete, Andy and Mariano. We owe them a decent run. But anybody who thinks all three can last a full season at their former performance levels must have spent too much time lobbying in Colorado for the pot referendum. We are stuck between a possible future wave of talent - (nothing but potential, folks, and not nearly as strong as many other teams) - and a desperate pact to honor our rusted warriors, before the wheels fall. 

How badly do the Steinboys want to honor Jete, Mo and Andy?

Way I see it, they're willing to pay them off, and that's about it. 

We all should be so lucky. Or at least as lucky as that Keppinger guy.