It's time to bang the Gong on Sonny Gray

My resolution for 2018 was to be less reactionary, more loving, and to see all of humanity as adorable cherubs filled with hope, rather than polyester-suited demi-pigs. When the Yankees lose, I wouldn't lie in bed, slicing their names into my forearm with the box-cutter. I would stay cool and whimsical. I would take The Long Haul Approach, always looking toward a bold, golden horizon. I promised myself to give faith a fighting chance, and if I had the chance to sit it out or dance... I hoped I'd dance.

Thus, when the Yankees traded Tyler Austin and Luis Rijo for Lance Lynn, despite my urge to climb the cage and hurl feces at my captors, I sat back and twiddled. I held back my indignation, even though I saw us acquiring a 31-year-old tin can, who'd been jettisoned by the Twinkie for no other reason than they were tired of looking at him. And although you cannot predict baseball, Suzyn, one general rule is that fading 31-year-olds don't magically become 25 when they don pinstripes. 

Moreover, I couldn't fathom why we needed Lynn, a sixth starter. 

Well, today, thanks to Sonny Gray, I understand.

GONNNNNNNNNNNNNNG!

Yesterday, Sonny cleared up my confusion, once and for all. Friends, it's time to stop the music. Surely, there will come a game in September when the Yanks are down by 14, and we've already used Cale Coshow and Brady Lail, not to mention a few position players. That's when we can welcome the sight of Smilin' Sonny Gray, the Pinstriped Tweetmeister, marching from the bullpen to embody every reason why the Yankees are having an off-millennium. 

1. He is the latest in a long conga line of twentysomething, contract-controlled "power arms" that have become as Brian "Cooperstown" Cashman's version of the "manic pixie dream girl" from depraved indie movies. From Jeff Weaver to Javier Vazquez to Michael Pineda, the Yankees keep trading for them, and they always disappoint. Frankly, it's a wonder Cash didn't cut a deal for Chris Archer, because all he could see was Greta Gerwig.

2. He is also our version of a "too big to fail" bank during a financial crisis. Regardless of his performance, Sonny was guaranteed a slot in the rotation, despite the kind of outings that would send a no-name back to Scranton. The Yankees just keep waiting for him to gain command. He has a semi-hopeful outing - maybe six innings and three runs - and we tell ourselves he's here! And then... poof. Over and over... poof. 

3. He is another trade acquisition whose whole positive focus has steadily evolved into ranking on the players we gave up to get him. In this case, only Dustin Fowler - whom the A's last night demoted to Triple A - has an MLB track record: hitting .231 with 6 HRs and 6 SBs. (He's only 23, so there's that.) The Yankees can point to Oakland and say Sonny came cheaply. But wasn't it yesterday that we were explaining how the collapse of Jesus Montero justified Pineda? When that's the positive, you're in trouble.

Yesterday, the Yankiverse learned the reason behind trading for Lance Lynn. Clearly, he should replace Gray in the rotation, and if he fails, I'd happily substitute Luis Cessa, and then Justus Sheffield, and then see who's hot in Scranton. The most intriguing rumor of the recent trade deadline was that the Yankees were offering Gray in deals. Now there are racially offensive tweets, which popped up yesterday. Can you put a guy on the DL for being an ass?

Look, I'm trying to be calm about this. No sense popping a gonad at the keyboard. We have Lance Lynn. Let's tuck Sonny deep into the bullpen, make it into September when the rosters expand, pitch him in 14-run games, and then - come December - trade him somewhere, anywhere, for whatever we can get. GONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG. Sonny Time is over.