Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Posted by el duque at 6:15 AM
Gimme a pill.
I know, I know... some of you blokes think it was a pip-pip jolly good idea. Obviously, the Yankee brain trust did. And look at all it did last year with a measly $210 million: Six wins over .500. (Oh, but that's because of the injuries.)
Signing Headley means the team will pass on Max Scherzer or James Shields, just as signing Andrew Miller meant showing David Robertson the door. We don't improve. We just maintain. With the likes of Beltran, Teixeira, McCann, et al, eating up money, what's another $52 million? I mean, we're shooting for the 2015 Wild Card, folks... seriously, eight over .500 might do it. How good do we need to be?
Insert sigh here.
What hurts most is the Boredom Factor. I hoped the Yankees in 2015 might field an interesting team to watch, with players whose ceilings are not so layered in concrete that you want to take a sleeping pill and fast-forward to 2019.
Headley's future is well defined by his past. Thus, here's what to expect: He'll hit .240 with 15 HR. If he hits .350 in April-May, he'll hit .150 in June-July. These guys are like homing pigeons; they always manage to find their numbers. What Headley really supplies is a chance for the Yankee front office to bench A-Rod and shame him into buy-out. The bar here is low, folks. Get used to it.
Wouldn't it be incredible if the Yankees found players who might actually evolve into stars?
I hoped they would sign Yasmany Tomas, the 23-year-old slugger OF from Cuba, who might be the next Puig or Abreu. Nope. Tomas signed with Arizona. We get Headley.
I hoped they'd sign Yoan Moncata, the 19-year-old shortstop from Cuba, by far the most exciting free agent this winter. Who knows how good he'll be. Not us. We get Headley.
I hoped they'd even chase Jung-Ho Kang, the 27-year-old Korean SS who hit 40 HR in some ridiculously obscure Asian league, because - well - you never know. Aint a-gonna happen. We get Headley, Headley, Headley.
We get Headley, we get Headley, WE GET HEADLEY - that is, until his chronic bad back seizes up, and then - as usual - we'll just blame the whole sorry season on injuries. We get Headley, we get Headley, we get Headley... and where's that sleeping pill? I'm feeling Headley.