The Yankees look like a camel that was designed by a committee

Last week was a blast. We drank, we partied, we drank, we barfed on Redsock fans. We pretended everything was fine, the Canyon of Heroes was ours, and the Evil Empire was evil again.

Before Wednesday, 2014 loomed as a Met-like disaster. Truth be told, not much has changed. The Yankees remain a duct-taped blob of old players and bloated contracts, with glaring problems and an unbridled status as the worst run franchise in baseball, if not all of sports. (Aside from the Knicks.)

They have now spent nearly $500 million to upgrade a team that still could finish fifth. What if Jeter, at 40, cannot play SS? What if Tex re-tweaks his wrist? Or if Tanaka needs a year to adjust? Or if Robertson can’t close? Or if CC doesn’t come back? Who the hell plays third base? Who in God’s name plays second? How can a team sink so much money into its farm system and receive so little in return? (And yet nobody lost his job? On what metric does job-performance get rated?)   

I think it’s because the Yankees have been built by a committee. The members: Frederic Horowitz, Casey Close, Hal Steinbrenner and, now, Rupert Murdoch, the newest co-owner. Everybody else is a YES man. Until now, Brian Cashman simply has been pouring coffee and taking orders for donuts.  He couldn’t move until A-Rod’s fate was decided. He couldn’t move until Tanaka chose a team. Now, he can move – but he might as well wait until spring, when the first injuries arrive.

Then, Cashman will probably trade Brett Gardner. This will piss off rabid Yankee fans, who know Gardy as one of our few home grown gamers of the last decade. But The Committee won’t care. He will probably try to package Gardner with either Francisco Cervelli or Austin Romine, but this requires a team that a) wants both players, b) has something to give up, and c) is willing to trade with the Yankees. (Some, like the Rays and Redsocks, simply refuse.) Finally, we must decide on our most urgent need: Starting pitching, bullpen pitching, second base or third. And remember what happens if Jete or Tex go into remission: Then the sirens go off, and it’s 9-11.

Yep. The worst run team in baseball.  By far. Every few years, they spackle-over their problems with money, but then the walls sag and the house collapses. It’s what George did. It’s now what his son – chair of The Committee - is doing. Last week, we had a day to rejoice over the signing of a player – something we missed last year. (Remember that brief fling with fiscal sobriety? The $189 million payroll? Or did we just dream it?) But now we’re back to the cold reality of Robbie Cano in Seattle and nobody to play third. Three weeks until pitchers and catchers – and the first injuries. God help us. But it sure was fun last week, am I right?