He's all yours, Seattle! And a note from Yankee fans everywhere: Good luck in figuring out what makes Robbie run.

In today's Daily News, John Harper piles 400 words atop a question that has dogged Yankeekind for a decade: Why did an otherwise great player thumb his nose at tradition, teammates and the fan base by jogging out routine grounders? Yes, now that he's playing for Microsoft, the NYC media is finally wondering about Robbie Cano's hard drive.

To be sure, folks mentioned it in the past. But an iron rule of communications states that once the pig-smelting factory leaves town, it's time to write about those bloody heads that turn up in the catch-basins, and once a player leaves for greener pastures, it's fair game to mention that he never once flushed the clubhouse toilet. In this case, Cano - who everyone agrees made a crafty move in signing that ridiculous 10-year contract with Seattle - refused to hustle on grounders because he was "saving his legs," whatever that means. 

To me, this was why the Yankees are better off without him, even though his absence this season will produce the train wreck known as Cashmanageddon.

The Yankees had joggers in the past. Rickie Henderson dogged it to first. Mel Hall dogged it. In fact, when I ponder the prima donnas who strolled down the baseline with regularity, I generally harken back to the 14-year barf, the dark period of Yankee history, when players were defined by personal numbers rather than championships. I don't know what happened to the Yankees between 2000 and 2006, but I cannot believe the 1996 team would have let a rookie jog to first. Somebody - Paul O'Neil, Bernie Williams, Scott Brosius, Tino Martinez, et al - would have gotten into the kid's face and traumatized him so deeply that it never happened again. But when Cano arrived, nobody did it.

For the last five years, nobody took Cano to task. Today, Kevin Long mentions trying, but who's kidding here: In a public pissing match with Cano, Long wouldn't have lasted 10 minutes. Cano simply didn't intend to run hard. It probably only cost him one or two plays a season, but we'll never know, will we? If he ran hard, would it have forced a bad throw? Could it have caused the infielder to hurry his play? The fact is, the fielder sees him jogging and knows he can take his time.

Let's see what he does in Seattle. If Robbie jogs, he's basically saying that he'll never hustle, no matter what, that jogging is his signature move. Good luck, Mariners, in teaching your rookies to go all out. Something tells me Seattle is in for a 10-year barf.

And if Robbie now runs hard, well, we finally have an answer. The Yankees simply were not paying him enough to make hustling worth his effort. For $100 million, he said no. For $200 million, he runs. He's all yours, Seattle. Your 10th man should love this guy.