For the rest of our days on this godforsaken planet, whenever you meet a fellow Yankee fan, you will achieve a state of shared misery by whispering the name "Kirby Yates." Ten years from now, I predict that he will jog out of the dugout on Old Timers' Day, and we will spit creamed corn onto our recreation lounge bingo cards. By then, we will claim to have been watching last night's game, which will be a lie, because we were passed out on the crapper.
I believe that last night's incredible loss will signify the lost decade - the 2011-2020 Bronx Barf, the first decade in which the mighty Yankees won nothing... waist deep in the big muddy, yet the big fool said to press on.
Who knows, maybe Kirby Yates will become the safe word - the trauma that causes a new Yankee policy - transforming us from buyers to sellers at the 2016 trade deadline. Right now, it is hard to say. It's just a numbing pain, just one more measly loss that plunges us back below .500, where - truth be told - we probably belong.
Still... Kirby Yates! It goes on our list. Screw the NRA; this man should not be allowed to buy a gun. He's there beside Yoan Moncada... YOOOOOOOOOOAN MONCADA... SLOOOOOOWLY I TURN... STEP BY STEP...
Kirby. Frickin. Yates.
I can't quit without noting that I witnessed the Traveling Wilkes Barries last night in Sorrycuse, and I am awaiting stool sample analyses. Meanwhile, four Scrantonians caught my eye.
|Judge wears ridiculous 99 number.|
1. Aaron Judge. Goliath stroked a HR down the left field line that went out so fast that it undermines my theory that home runs are psychologically cherished by fans because their duration lasts exactly as long as the male orgasm. This one didn't. It just went Ralph Cramden - BANG, ZOOM, to the moon, Alice. I don't know how many HRs Judge will hit, but some will bring down passing jets. He will also take called third strikes with the bases loaded, which he also did last night. They are throwing him junk. He now leads the International League in HRs. Judge is coming, folks. We can't keep him there forever, can we? Gulp?
2. Donovan Solano. He's a 28-year-old ex-Marlin, plays 3B - a non-prospect. But he hits the ball all over - two gappers for doubles - and fields well. If Chase Headley gets hurt, rather than reset the infield, Solano could be worth a coin flip. Frankly, I'm not sure he wouldn't replace Headley's production, though I hear we're supposed to forget the first two months and concentrate only on what Chase did in June, right? Isn't that the new Yankee reality?
3. Chad Green, starting pitcher. We were talking yesterday about the last time the Yankees traded for a prospect who actually turned out to be worth something. Well, fuck me! Maybe this is the guy! He pitched six shutout innings, three hits, and his ERA is among the league leaders. He's no Luis Severino, in terms of potential. But he could be the next David Phelps. Last night, he was pounding the strike zone and had Syracuse under his spell, and they do have Matt den Dekker!
4. Nick Swisher. Yeesh. He runs like Danny Devito as the Penguin. He's still animated in the field, still Swishalicious, and he can turn on a fastball. He made the plays at first, but didn't look smooth and got picked off second with a brain freeze. Jeez, I dunno about this. He seems so happy, almost joyous out there, clearly doing what he loves. I hope Swish gets called up for a final Yankee hurrah. But make no mistake: That's what it'll be. He's not coming up to save us. He'll just give us a final smile. And we can use one. Kirby Yates!