Omar is out

'Tis a dark day, indeed, when it is considered a dark day (indeed), because the Yankees just lost out in a bidding war to Kansas City - the city that once gave us Roger Eugene Maris for a package centered around Marv Throneberry. But these are the darkest days, (indeed) and Omar Infante will not become a Yankee.

Last week, after Robbie Cano jogged off to Walla Walla, Omar suddenly ascended to the perch of Yankiverse Hallucinatory Drug of Choice - the best 2B on the free agent market, though not exactly a brand name. Omar was 31 and coming off a great year - he hit .318, well above career - but now he's a Royal and we are a royal flush.

For the record:  I'm glad he's gone. I have a thing about Yankees named "Omar." I remember Omar "the Out-Maker" Moreno, who in 1983-84 pitted our demise under Mad King George. Simply put: Some names should never be Yankees. Toby, for example. And Rex. And Colter. Butch. Was there ever a great Yankee named Butch? No. (Wynegar and Hobson, I'm looking at you.)

But losing Omar leaves us with nobody at 2B, along with nobody, at third. If Jeet and Tex suffer setbacks - and who knows? - our entire infield will feature nobodies. New York City cannot take another season of a Luis Cruz-Alfredo Gonzalez-Eduardo Nunez- Lyle Overbay infield. The YES Network's ratings will plunge below C-SPAN. The Yankee Radio Network will be driven by Schwinn. Thus, Cashman has two options: Find some aging, scrap heap, infielder versions of Vernon Wells... or trade Brett Gardner.

Since the Cano thing came down, I've run into several Yankee fans. Each started the conversation with, "GOD, DON'T TRADE BRETT GARDNER." It's interesting how popular, almost beloved, Gardner is. It's so rare to have a homegrown Yankee, plus one who is a tough out after the 7th inning. The notion of trading him for a carpetbagger - a Rex, a Butch, a Colter - sickens us. But once the Yankees start talking about something, it's a like a heroin addict staring at a loaded hypodermic...

'Tis a dark day, indeed, when we've been reduced to watching Kansas City make off with our coveted, overpriced, middling free agent target. But here's the reality: Nobody again is going to trade us Roger Eugene Maris for Marvelous Marv. The best we can do is make sure we don't end up with a big mess of throne berries.