The April 30 trade deadline looms, and we've been crushed by the rain-outs in Trenton and Scranton, which have kept Mickey Frazier and Bryce Gleyber from lacing up their already legendary cleats. And that's not the worst news. Not by a long shot. Fact is, no sooner did I finally figure out how to spell his last name, then James Kaprielian is seeing the surgeon, bringing along his new MRI screen-shots, which look like that bombed Syrian airbase. Trenton hasn't even played a game, and our best pitching prospect is likely done for 2017 and half of 2018. At this rate, we'll finish the season with Cito Culver in the rotation.
|Actually, several tied at one HR.|
In the YES Post-Game Center for Yanksplaining Losses, Jack Curry looked like he had just drank the tonic that makes his hair stand up that way. Watching Curry and "Flash" Flaherty struggling to summon positives was like watching hostages begging for ransoms that Hal Steinbrenner will never pay. Sorry, boys, where do you want your heads sent?
Four games in, and whatever happened to the scions of spring? A week ago, the IBS lady was enchanting us, and the Gammonites were breathless over the "competition" between Aaron Hicks and Aaron Judge - the two Olympian gods battling for RF. The Yankee brass was marveling over Hicks' resurrection; his batting average stood around the magical .270! We were penciling in Bird for 30 HRs and waiting for the next sighting of Melania.
Now, suddenly, Yankeegeddon looms... in April, no less. Good grief. Unless somebody lights a fire under this team - where's the reanimated ghost of George? - we'll soon start wondering if Brian Cashman can trade El Chapo again, maybe for another Gleyber. If the rain ever stops in Trenton, maybe we'll have something to watch. Dear god, only 157 games left.