Saturday, April 8, 2017

At edge of 2017 precipice, Yanks face make or break weekend in Baltimore

It's now or never! Today, Joe Girardi must tickle his binders like the 2017 season is on the line... because it is! And if that means using El Chapo in the 4th, well, this call to the bullpen is brought to you by Hades, god of the underworld. So bring him in, Joe! And Betances, too. They're just catching fleas in the bullpen. We damn well can't afford to fall 3.5 games behind Baltimore with only 157 games left!

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.
Last night, with two outs in the ninth, Girardi invoked the dreaded "nuclear option:" He pinch-hit Chris Carter for the zombified Greg Bird. Chris the Miss slapped the first pitch to third, bringing a merciful ending to a show that, were it a new series on Netflix, wouldn't be worth a rainy weekend binge. 

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.

2 comments:

Ken of Brooklyn said...

The heartbreak AND heartburn of these last few games feels like the template for how this season will play out.
I want to be wrong, ooooh gawd, I hope I'm wrong,,,,,

Anonymous said...

Duque, what has happened to your positivity pledge, after only four games?? Please don't turn into another "nattering nabob of negativity" like me....though I fully understand that your physical condition you described recently could do it - - I have had IBS since last October (when it became apparent that the tRUMPster could actually win, with a little help from his friends), AND I have only one good ear, like you. Warning: tweak just one gonad, and you would be even worse-off than I - - and we want you to be your inspirational, loveable, crochety self - - not some grumpy, superannuated git like this commentor (although I only have 1,237 entries to go to get my Special Common Tater badge). Please show some leadership, and lead us geez-es outta' this funk - - think of something, man! LB (No J)