Well, here we are, five business days from product launch, with eight players on the roster bubble, and the sign in the Yankee showroom says CLEARANCE. We need the space! We're looking to deal! Nobody gets turned away! It'll be HUUUUUGE! The truth is, our lot is overflowing. We can't keep everybody; Scranton isn't big enough. That means we probably won't get Blue Book value for the late models on display. But deal, we must.
How many times do you demote a Chasen Shreve or Rob Refsnyder before the narrative shifts from farce to tragedy?
Today and tomorrow, the music stops and every GM in baseball scrambles for an empty seat. And here's the rub: There are no empty seats. It is time to deal.
So what might happen?
First, a couple notes on what won't: We won't trade Chris Carter, so don't even think about it. He's here, like President Trump. Deal with it. We signed Carter as an insurance policy for Greg Bird, and truth be told, Bird hasn't played enough to justify repealing and replacing the Carter safety net. Plus, all the guy has done for the last month is strike out, shrinking his value from the shoddy $3.5 million we spent to sign him. (When you think about the fact that Cashman spent his last $5 million on Carter and Jonathan Niese - well - let's just say he'll be covering it extensively in therapy someday.) So Carter will stay, probably for eternity.
Secondarily, Jacoby Ellsbury isn't going anywhere. Nope. Aint gonna happen. That's China Town, Jake. The only way we will be rid of Ellsbury is if he has a great season and, thus, doesn't look like the walking incarnation of A-Rod's curse contract. Gardy might go. Gleyber might go. The Statue of Liberty might go. Ellsbury is here to stay.
So the question is, who shall vaporize into the fog? Obviously, Refsnyder is a goner; he's been on the block all spring. But at this point, we'll probably get a single A pitcher, something akin to the haul last fall for Ben Gamel. It would be Nirvana if Ref could be a meaningful piece in a trade for Jose Quintana, but why kid ourselves? If Chicago coveted him, he'd be wearing a White Sox uniform by now. They want a Gleyber, or a Kap, or a Clint, so fuck 'em.
No, today is the day Cashman earns his pay. But if you're looking for possible trade scenarios... well, go somewhere else. If there's one thing we've learned over the years, it's that Cashman's trades fall out of the skies, unannounced and unexpected. They are never prophesied, as if he's determined to prove Sterling's First Law of Human Dynamics. "You can't predict baseball."
Something will happen, and it's going to happen soon. It won't be what we expect. So save your predictions for the 2017 season one more day, maybe two. Once the lot is cleared, we'll see much more clearly through the smoke.