Painted into a corner by austerity, we must steel ourselves for the inevitable Brett Gardner trade

One of the best parts - no, THE best part - of the recent Justin Wilson trade was that it surely ended any Yankee front office delusion about dealing Andrew Miller. As Scotty would tell Kirk, "The pen, Captain, she can't take it any more!" Simultaneously, we are now done with the fantasy that Hal "I'm Not Cheap" Steinbrenner is lying in wait, prepared to spring catlike on a big free agent. Aint gonna happen. Help is NOT on the way.

Thus, Brett Gardner remains the last 2015 Yankee trade chip, for any meaningful nose job on this lopsided roster.

For better or worse, we should expect Gardy to go yardy, just a bit tardy.

So what would we get, and will it be worth it? That, Colonel Kurtz, is the question. Obviously, Cashman trolled the winter meetings last week and came back with only unexplained tattoos across his body. Everybody in baseball wants pitching - (that's new, eh?) - and let's face it: Speed outfielders who no longer steal bases don't get face time on Center Stage with Michael Kay. Several teams seeking OF lug nuts found them elsewhere. For Cashman to get market value for Gardner, some OF somewhere must tweak a gonad or shoot up an Arby's.

Meanwhile, Girardi will blather about this wonderful stockpile of OFers, talking though the fact that we have too many. There is the un-tradeable Jacoby Ellsbury and the immovable Carlos Beltran: Nobody would take either if we threw in a boat. We have Aaron Hicks, whom Cashman has already proclaimed as a 2016 breakout star. We have Slade Heathcott and Mason Williams - both showed promise last year, though they're basically the same player: a LH centerfielder - and Ben Gamel, who ruined everything by hitting .300 at Triple A and forcing his way into a shot. Then there is Dustin Ackley, another Cashman Cutie, (another LH,) and of course, the ghost of Rob Refsnyder, who shall only see a chance when Birnam Wood comes to Dunsinane.

Somebody's gotta go. Too many OF, too few arms. That leaves Gardy on the launch pad. Last year, he became our de facto captain. He seemed on the cusp of stardom, the kind that might end up someday getting a plaque. In the end, his meek ground-out drew the loudest boos in Yankee Stadium. Nobody wants it to end that way. But steel yourself, folks. There's no other way. It's gonna hurt, losing an old friend - especially knowing we will die someday with Shallow Hal still at the helm, counting his money.