The Yankee resurgence is due to Greg Bird

We've heard the media gushing over Todd Frazier's impact on the Yankees this fall. As a critic of the deal that begot him, I must admit that the Toddfather seems a positive clubhouse presence. (Then again, I would be a beloved clubhouse presence, charming teammates with my disarming grin, witty effervescence and Sorkinesque banter.) Frazier's double down the line Sunday opened the floodgates, but he's 4-18 in the post-season, with one RBI. Sorry, Toddites. He's not why we're here. One hitter transformed the Yankee lineup this fall, and the name is Greg Bird. If Brian Cashman deserves credit for anything, it is for waiting on Bird, while the toe-tappers were demanding Lucas Duda.

Who knows what Bird's long term legacy will be? Next spring, he might tweak a buttery gonad and disappear once again, leaving Cashman nervous as a nun in a penguin shoot. But as the chart shows, Bird has been our October surprise. If we win tonight, he could be Divisional Series MVP. 

(Note: The other critical Yankee, Sir Didi, has walked seven times. Is that respect, or what?)

Tonight, we face the best pitcher in the American League and a home plate ump who will draw cheers each time he thumbs out a Yankee batter. It's human nature to favor the crowd. Meanwhile, we're lugging out a beaten-up suitcase of a man - ten years from youth, eight from peak foliage, and three from the drunk tank - who can't field bunts, and who, last time out, was pulled because his manager displayed a clear lack of faith in him. Only in bad Disney movies - think Emilio Estevez and hockey - do the cosmic scriptwriters favor the Yankees. With CC Sabathia pitching, there's so much water under the bridge that it resembles a scene from Hurricane Harvey. And if Terry Francona blows another, only Harvey Weinstein will have had a worse month. Bue we are.

You can't predict baseball, Suzyn. That's China Town, Jake. The nine-inning season. Our fourth in the last week. Howl, howl, howl...