From Eli to Gardy, it's a problem when ownership falls in love

Today, the Yankees must decide the immediate fate of Mr. Brett Michael Gardner, their longest tenured and most respected soldier. 

They can pick up his $12.5 million option and keep Gardy for another year. They can pay him $2 million in movie money and bid him adieu. Or they can start talks on a new deal, somewhere in the middle. Three options. None overtly palatable. 

Within the vast, eternal clockwork of the Yankiverse, this is not a big money decision. But it's the first sign of how the franchise intends to move this winter. Will it leave an opening in the outfield, one that might be filled with a bigger name? Or will it double-down on a slowing 35-year-old with questionable tread left on the tires?

In the second half of 2018, Gardy flat-out sucked, batting .206. He was so bad that the Yankees rented Andrew McCutcheon for the final month, even though it meant listing further rightward in their lineup. Today, Gardy looks like a clone of Jacoby Ellsbury, minus the injuries and horror movie contract, and the worst irony here is that both players were once exactly what the Yankees will need in 2019: A lefty lead-off hitter with speed. Now, neither can be counted on.

Of course, one player we cheer, and the other we lustily boo. Everybody loves Gardy and views Ellsbury as a waste of band-aids. I think it's important here to remind everybody that you can't blame a player for his contract. He's just feeding his family. It's the front office that deserves the tomatoes. Remember: They gave Ellsbury the third-richest deal for an outfielder in history; they did it in December of 2013, after missing the playoffs and watching Boston win the world series; and they did it as Robinson Cano was walking to Seattle. What a colossal, reactionary mistake. 

So... today? Personally, I hope the Yankees let Gardy test the market for a better deal. He'll always be loved in NY and maybe can return someday for a final bow. But there is danger is outstaying your welcome, and having an owner fall in love with you... as illustrated by another fine fellow playing across the river in Jersey. His name, of course, is Eli Manning. 

Right now, the 1-7 Giants are riding Eli like Slim Pickens on the nuclear bomb in Dr. Strangelove. There is no hope, no chance of a resurrection, no nothing... as the team is better off losing every game. Eli moves in the pocket with the dexterity of George Steinbrenner's statue, making the Giants' terrible offensive line look even more porous than it is. Any other team would have weeks ago gone Megyn Kelly on their QB, but not the old money, country-club, white bread Giants. Nope. The Maras - America's WASPiest family - loves Eli as a cherished, longtime cabana boy, and the last coach and general manager to bench him were shit-canned within a week. So Eli stays, and the NFL's worst team does the impossible: It somehow gets worse, not even able to properly tank. Eli is on contract through 2019. He makes Ellsbury look like a free chicken dinner.

Jeez, how depressing it is to be an old-line NY sports fan - the Yankees, Giants, Knicks and Rangers. If we're not mired in the cellar, we must watch our arch-rivals snake dance in the streets, chanting that we suck... and know that they are right. 

The Yankees must change. Believe me... I love Gardy. But the changes must start today.