Okay, Mr. Boone, here's your first manager challenge: His name is Dellin.

Well, well, Mr. Boone. Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name! You've been managing now - what? - a whopping three whole days? Congrats are in order, because you've already seen a month's worth of crises, courtesy of the Yankee deep state. Right now you face:

1) a rapidly dwindling outfield, which is hilarious in a way, because the front office spent much of the winter trying to trade one or two of them, and it recently ditched Jake Cave, because of the surplus. We have Aaron Judge playing centerfield, and we might be sending Tyler Wade out there. This is starting to resemble the first base situation a few years back, when A-Rod, Beltran and Brian McCann took turns at terrifying their teammates.

2) Dellin Betances, a stopper who is intermittently unhittable and uncatchable, who cannot hold a runner on base, who cannot throw to a base, who cannot throw to a base, and who now and then grooves a gopher ball as if it were set on a golden tee. He's supposed to be our chief, eighth inning set-up man. Ha ha, to that, eh? 

For now, let's forget the outfield. Shit happens, and surely, in a worst case scenario, you can go into the crowd like the Chicago Blackhawks did this week and pull some accountant, right? Let's talk about Dellin. And let me be brisk: 

If you have any fucking idea of what to do, go for it.

Don't listen to Larry Rothschild. He's busy running his secret world banking cabal. If he knew how to solve Betances, he would have done it last fall. If Betances had been effective last October, the Yankees might have won the World Series, and you'd still be in the broadcast booth, talking about Joe Girardi. Nope. You're on your own, sir.

Last night, after the latest debacle - players literally running around the bases on Betances, without fear - you told reporters that players suffer "bumps on the road" during the long season. Sir, with all due respect to potholes, this isn't a bump. This is a chasm, the type that buses plunge off of. This is a lamb who has lost his way. He doesn't need a coach. He needs a shrink. He needs meds, he needs therapy, he needs long talks on a couch about his mom and dad, because right now, with Betances out there, no lead is safe. The world is still wondering who bit Beyonce? I wonder, who bit Betancres? I wish I knew what to do. Good luck. It's almost Day Four!