Tuesday, April 5, 2016

We haven't played yet, we're a game behind, and I'm thinking of what Shakespeare would say

To-ronto, and to-ronto, and to-ronto,
Creeps in its petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to Wild Card death. Out, out, brief Gardner!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage...

Toronto has started the way it finished 2015: Knocking people around. They're 2-0 against the deviled Rays, playing in the Tampa sauna dome. They still have a lineup that - starting at No. 2 - goes Donaldson, Bautista, Encarnacion and Tulowitzki, surrounded by ascending twentysomethings. They still have R.A. Dickey, who is capable of eating the innings of any stressed pitching staff, and conjuring a slump among Yankee hitters.

Look, they're not the UConn Lady Huskies, but let's be real: The key to our "resurgence" last June was the slovenly, knock-kneed quality of the AL East. We spent three months jockeying for first place in baseball's worst division. This season, we won't receive such a free ride.

Barring more snow - and Syracuse is under about four inches of it - the Yankees go three at home against Houston, then travel to Detroit for three games, and then to Toronto for another three, a week from today. Clearly, April games are just howdy-doos. But brace yourselves for a reality check. Toronto looks like a lineup of Tex, A-Rod, Beltran and Headley - but five years younger. We can close our eyes and imagine A-Rod hitting 35 HRs this year; who wouldn't be ecstatic with such a season? But it's hard to think of Encarnacion NOT hitting 35. And if Tulowitzki bounces back...

Tell me again about who we have at Trenton?


Alphonso said...

I think we have to go a level or two below Trenton, before we can pretend there are high end prospects in our system. And the notion of a, " can't miss," prospect does not exist in the Yankee universe.

Anonymous said...

Took literally 7.1 innings of ball for me to go from over the moon excited to sick to my stomach. Is it November yet? Vomit.