Assessing a wave of injuries in an organization that never tells the truth

OK, that's it. I give up. You got me, sheriff. I am "boggled." 

In one day - one frickin' afternoon -  the Yankees potentially lose four players to tweaked something-or-others. And if we know anything about the Death Star, it is that we cannot believe a word they say publicly about injuries. They'll pooh-pooh a fractured skull. ("Tony is already making sounds that suggest he's relearning how to talk...") They lie without consequences, and the Gammonitic media accepts this as part of the game. That's China Town, Jake. 

So, what do we know, and where do we stand?

Gary Sanchez. He tweaked his groin while trying to steal second base. This would have been his first stolen base in 2019, the fifth of his entire career. Surely, it will be the last. He's going for an MRI. Let's not kid ourselves. An MRI on a pulled groin automatically means its bad. Even a minor tweak means four to six weeks, which would have him return for the World Series, assuming the Yankees would bring him back in such circumstances. That means October will feature the team of Romine & Higashioka, both of whom have higher batting averages than Gary this season. Romine has been a savior; his clutch home runs have been joyous events. Obviously, neither brings Gary's long-ball threat, and Sanchez had improved his defense, so we'll take a hit there. Most of all, this sets us up for the possibility of another injury, which would leave a gaping hole in the bottom of the boat. On the DOES THIS SUCK Scale: It's 4 out of 5 sucks.

J.A. Happ. This comes with a slice of mystery. Happ has returned to NYC with "bicep tendonitis," despite throwing nearly five innings yesterday, after several quality starts. In fact, he's been throwing better lately than all year, making his case for a playoff start. Now, this? They say it's precautionary. The problem with Happ, though, is that we have no place for him to rehab. If he misses two starts, he'll have to return in the thick of the playoffs. He's a smart veteran, been around the block, so there's that. Before yesterday, he looked like our third starter. Now... yeesh... we're actually thinking of going with CC Sabathia? Does anybody not see a problem here?

Edwin Encarnacion. They say he's "day to day." What a joke. A left oblique strain? For a 36-year-old? Nah. Unless it's the lightest strain in history, he's done for the year. (And since he's a free agent, probably gone for good.) Here's where it's all up to Giancarlo Stanton. Simply put, he has two weeks to get hot, to show the Yankees he's still a fearsome hitter, and that he can take over at least the DH slot in October. It's mathematical: We just exchanged Encarnacion for Stanton. 

Tommy Kahnle. This one really stinks. Supposedly, he punched something, out of frustration over a bad outing. He hurt a finger. Smart move, Dr. Einstein. Of course, he will pooh-pooh this, claim it's not a factor. He has no choice; it otherwise will be too much of an embarrassing to deal with. Kahnle might have just slapped himself out of pitching in October. So much for the boost that Dellin Betances was supposed to bring our bullpen. If Betances does return - a big "if" - we'll still be desperately looking for a bridge to Britton and El Chapo (who, by the way, is not throwing scoreless innings lately.)

The real fear from yesterday is more existential. We thought there would be a random nature of injuries - that the higher number we experienced would mean a drop-off in September-October. But that's not happening. Every day, as it has been all season, somebody goes down. We have two weeks left for Aaron Judge to pull something, or for Gardy to crash into a wall. Our injuries are not going to let up, and Houston somehow is escaping the problem. That might mean we are truly a "team of destiny." Or it might be prelude to the collapse, a season that was always mired in ice baths and MRIs. All I know is that we can't bubble-wrap our way to the home field advantage, and if everything boils down to Luke Voit and Gio Urshela, I can live with that. Frankly, we have no choice.