The Great Darkness looms: The decisions next month may be the most important in our Yankee lifetimes

The dismal, haunting 2018 World Series will end soon, probably by Sunday, when I will finally emerge from behind the couch. I keep telling myself, it's only a movie, only a movie, only a movie... I channel-hop, landing on Fox to find Boston ahead or with the bases full, and it's all I can do to click the remote until the screen finds a mouth-foaming pundit or a medically sculpted Kardashian nipple, so I can escape the truth:

Boston will win the 2018 World Series, and it could be their first of several. 

Look at their lineup. Dear God, you see the Yankees of 1998. Benintendi is Jeter, Betts is Bernie, Martinez is O'Neill, and down the line, every piece fits, with the kind of spirit wins multiple rings. Comrades, the glaciers have melted, the sea is rising, bombs are in the mail, and the Great Darkness - aka the Age of Redsock Supremacy - is upon us.

Last year, Boston outspent us by $40 million. They outspent the Yankees. Yesterday, our Hall-of-Fame brain trust supposedly concluded its 2019 planning sessions, and now awaits a proclamation from the royal family, led by Crown Prince Hal bin Steinbrenner, "Mr. Budget Bone Saw," on how much the team shall spend next year. If Hal keeps our payroll below the luxury tax threshold, it will maintain his popularity with the other billionaire owners in their quests to become trillionaire owners. 

Folks, this is it. If anything is clear from this post-season, it's that only the Yankees can thwart Boston's dynastic march. And everything depends on the decisions made this winter, when the team is restructured by money.

The 2018 Yankees played like statues in a museum, oblivious to each other as they padded their stats. For months, we didn't notice the lack of spirit because of the sheer talent assembled: We won 100 games, after all. It was only when exposed to the Redsocks that our deficiencies became glaring. We didn't make the plays. We didn't get the big hits. We didn't belong on the same field.

The players who were meant to be our heart and soul - Gardy and CC - barely kept their own heads above water. Our sluggers never adjusted their swings, and our rookies did what rookies do. Then there was the curious case of Jacoby Ellsbury, who somehow managed to re-injure himself on a monthly basis. From where we sat, it looked like the Yankees simply told him to get lost, so insurance could cover his salary. That made sense on the books, but not in August, when the team went four weeks with a minor league journeyman in right field. But we saved money, so there's that.

Will 2019 see the same front office frugality and team-wide lack of cohesiveness? If so, find higher ground. People, we are entering the Great Darkness. The worst is yet to come, the army of the dead is at the wall, the Canyon of Heroes is shrouded in shadows, and it is now or never. 

If we mess it up this winter, we may not see a parade again in our lifetimes.