Oh, well... so much for that far-flung hope.
Congratulations, Fate. You got me. The cigar exploded, the whoopie cushion farted, and the gum tasted like onion. Yep, you fooled me again.
Yesterday, Jose Pirela hit the wall. And so did my warmest spring fantasy.
Of course, I was stupid to imagine Jose Pirela as anything more than The Second Coming of Yangervis Solarte. We all knew he'd eventually crash into something - the earth, I guess. Still, the 26-year-old kid - (Why are Yankee "kids" always on the downside of their twenties?) - offered what the Retrieval Empire has failed to provide:
A glimpse of someone whose ceiling is not yet cast in gray concrete.
Spring is supposed to be a time of hope. For the Yankees, it's become a dreary prelude to a year where many - if not most of us - expect the worst. I've never felt the fan base so uninspired and angry. The comments section at River Ave are a demolition derby. And really... how does one get revved about Stephen Drew? I've come to like Chase Headley, but what hope can I assign for him? He is an APBA player card. His future is outlined by his past. If he hits .400 in April, it only means he'll hit .100 in May. And we have a team of them.
Ah... but before yesterday, Pirela remained a 2015 Wild Card, (which is clearly what the Yankees are playing for.) We didn't know what we had. Yesterday's crash into the wall moves him from the New Yangervis to the New Ronnier, as in Mustellier. (Remember him, from a few springs ago? He raised eyebrows in Tampa, hit well, then crashed into a wall, bruised his thigh, went to Scranton and poof- and we never saw him again.) It will take weeks for Pirela recover. He'll start in Triple A. That's where Yankee prospects die.
Yesterday, Girardi liked him enough to play him in CF in a nationally televised game against the Mets. Today...?
Insert sigh here.
For a moment, it looked like we might actually ditch Chris Young - the tiring .205 former Mets disappointment, who strikes out against pitching machines - and install Pirela as our all-purpose fix-it. Now, we're back to a team of Has-Beens.
The line goes, if not for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all.
Today, for the 2015 Yankees, the same can be said of expectations.
All right... from now on, I'm going to start finding reasons to hope. I swear it. From now on...