Yanks cutting ties to Mr. O-for-October.
Likable fella, but 1-18 with 11 strikeouts lessens the sting of "Goodbye."
Well, Suzyn, I thank you...
Yanks cutting ties to Mr. O-for-October.
With a little tip of the cap to the Beatles...
All right, riffing off one of Alphonso's heretical points:
What did we not do that we wanted to do that we shoulda done? And vice versa.
That is, what moves did we advocate which would have been good or bad had HAL actually okayed the money?
Manny Machado.
I have to admit, I was all for signing him, once Sir Didi went under the knife. Which would've been a colossal waste of money.
Just 26—a phenomenally young age for a big free agent—Manny nonetheless grounded into an NL-leading 24 double-plays this year, and his batting line dropped precipitously, to .256/.334/.462/.796, even playing in the beautiful, carefree atmosphere of San Diego (Spanish for, "Whale's Vagina.").
To be sure, Manny still hit 32 homers, and played an above-average 3B. He's young enough to come back strong, and who knows? Maybe the whole LACK of pressure hurt his game.
But I still have to say: I was wrong. Picking him up would've meant missing out on the delightful Gio experience.
Bryce Harper
The easy call here is going to be that we didn't need him. In fact, look for our craven idiot of a GM to pat himself on the back for passing on Bryce very soon.
But I'm not so sure. I gotta go with our Dauntless Leader here. Sure, we probably would've missed out on Maybin and Tauchman. But boy oh boy, it would've been nice to have Bryce in the playoffs!
Harper JUST turned 27, and experienced only a minor drop-off this year, with an .882 OPS, 35 homers and 36 doubles, 99 walks, 15 SB in 18 attempts, and 13 OF assists. And he's a lefty.
Let's see how we feel about this next year, when Coops has let Maybin walk and traded Frazier, Tauchman is reverting to his mean, Gardy is wearing out in latest farewell contract, and Judge and Stanton are struggling to stay off the DL. And Joe Girardi's Phillies are five game up on their division.
I still say we shoulda signed him.
Patrick Corbin
The guy who won the World Series? After going 14-7, 3.25, with 238 Ks in 202 innings in the regular season? And who won't turn 30 until next midseason?
Yeah, I'll say we should've signed him.
Stupidly, I thought Happ was a better signing. But I would've loved to have signed BOTH, and NOT traded Sheffield, then a leading pitching prospect, for Paxton.
The Maple Sapling's one good playoff start aside, we would've been better off signing Corbin AND Happ and dealing Shef for something else: a good young OF prospect, another pitcher, etc.
Coops was wrong on Corbin. And wrong for America, dammit.
Dallas Keuchel
Another no-brainer. But then, what do you expect from a GM with no brains?
This was especially, egregiously stupid, because all it would've entailed was (a little) more money, with no big-contract or trade risk whatsoever.
No, Keuchel didn't burn the house down, in the end. But he was entirely reliable, throwing 112 innings after the Braves signed him, and making two so-so playoff starts.
But hey, if we didn't like that? We could've just let him walk at the end of the year.
Another WRONG for The Office Boy, which puts his 2019 record at 1-3.
1. They're calling it the greatest dis in sports history: The Nats to Bryce Harper. Today, Nat fans are taking pinata practice on him.
For the record, if anybody cares, Harper this year hit 35 HRs, batted .260 and drove in 114 runs - 12 more than any Yankee. This came after a tortuous first half, when Harper slumped and was relentlessly booed, even in Phily. He is 27.
I whined last winter, when the Yankees walked away from him. And seeing as how 2019 was the year of Next Man UP - with Cameron Maybin, Mike Tauchman, Gio Urshela - none of whom cost the Yankees a handful of magic beans, this certainly shows what I know. In the future, disregard anything I say.
Then again, unless I missed something, the Yankees didn't win this year, did they? And in the post-season, whenever a rally approached, we came upon the middle of the lineup. Does anybody want to look up how our 3rd, 4th, and 5th batters fared? I don't.
I just threw that last one in there because...who doesn't like churros? Especially with a good chocolate dip...
Anyway, let's do this systematically, people! Next up: middle infielders.
The path seems pretty clear here. They will let Sir Didi walk, turn second over to The General, where he won a Gold Glove in the NL, and give shortstop to El Conquistador, The Gleyber, for the next 12 years or so.
Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, as our soon-to-be Brexited friends across the sea would say.
Or maybe not. LeMahieu, who really deserves this year's MVP award, is 30, and has only one year remaining in his contract with your New York Yankees. Will he really become a fixture at second?
And great as it was to see Torres continue to blossom this year, I wish someone would stop him from making that sliding-across-the-grass move to stop ground balls. He's going to really hurt himself doing that some day—and almost did so this year (And yes, I'm saying that as a warning to the JuJu gods. We see you coming on this one!).
Our musical question here is—what is there to do about a problem like Sir Didi?
It's true he had a tough time coming back from injury this year. His slash line—.238/.276/.441/.718—was way down. While he had that grand slam against Minnesota, he often looked dreadful against Houston in the ALCS, popping everything up or striking out.
It should be time to finally let Tyler Too, Thairo the Pharaoh, and/or Kyle Holder have their shot as back-ups, at least. Shouldn't it?
On the other hand, Didi is far from old. He doesn't turn 30 until next spring training, and still looks plenty athletic. He also has a major clutch gene. Again and again he bailed us out at key moments this year, most memorably with both bat and glove during the big London farce. And while I think "clubhouse presence" is generally overrated, let's face it: Didi is the heart and soul of this team.
As is their wont—and it's a wanting wont—the Yanks have him in the wrong spot and expect him to do too much. Didi should not be in the No. 3 or 4 spot, but more down around 7 or 8.
What I would do: Sigh. This is between the proverbial rock and the proverbial proverb. I dunno. The smart thing, I guess, would be to let him walk and save the money for a pitcher.
The nasty, hardball thing to do would be to bargain Sir Didi down—he can't command very much in the open market, not after this past season—see how things go in spring training...then trade him, if everybody is well and playing well, so we at least get some value in return.
But that would be such a sleazy, awful, miserable way of dealing with a beloved player. Oh, sign him, dammit! Sign him and play him wherever an opportunity opens up! Someone is bound to get hurt.
WWCCD? Sir Didi is gone, alas. And the money saved won't even be used on acquiring a pitcher.
I can't figure out how to imbed the video, but Girardi couldn't button the Phillies jersey straight when he was presented at the press conference.
He can't. Even. Button. The fucking. Jersey.
Good luck, you poor bastards.
And while this is, of course, infinitely less important than the loathsome corporate entity known as "MLB" dodging and weaving on abuse of women, the Times also ran another piece the other day presenting another truckload of evidence that the baseballs have been changed for the postseason.
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/10/25/sports/baseball/mlb-baseball-juiced.html
It's bad enough that the balls are juiced or "un-juiced" over the years. Now, we're talking about juicing them during the season and then un-juicing them for the playoffs???? Why?
MLB, of course, is not talking. This is a cartel more addicted to covering up than Tricky Dick Nixon. It is ALWAYS their automatic, default reaction to anything.
MLB may be deliberately messing with the balls for any number of reasons—most likely, in this case, something to do with being able to squeeze in still more TV ads thanks to less extended action on the field. Or this is purely amateur hour, with the balls being obtained from somewhere new, most likely for some tiny savings some beancounter has come up with.
Corrupt or incompetent? You make the call.
It's the regular state of business (and almost everything else) in America today, conspiracy chasing screw-up all the way down the slide, to a society where any sense of judgement or meaning is rapidly fading.
True, the integrity of baseball is a very minor matter, compared to, say, preserving reality. But it still stinks. How are professionals supposed to play a game where the equipment can change during a season, on the whim of the owners?
And how is it that everyone who has any money in this country decided that it's always better to lie than to risk losing so much as a dollar of it?
And here's the thing.
She's absolutely right!
These charts, from Cot's Baseball Contracts - (Slogan: "The Pay's the thing.") - say it all.
With news that Masahiro Tanaka will undergo minor elbow surgery - (Note: There is no such thing as "minor" elbow surgery) - next year's top three Yankee earners might produce next to nothing. Add Happ, and you've got $87 million potentially down the drain.
Hello, sports fans. HAL here.
Was that a great decade, or what?
In 2019, the Yankees once again finished first in attendance in the American League, just as it has now for two consecutive years—and for every year after 2002, save for 2016 and 2017. Over three million of you came out to see the Yankees for the 21st straight season, including every year this decade.
True, attendance was down somewhat. But don't worry. Profit margins will be preserved through another increase in ticket prices, and an appropriate increase in the percentage of rat feces to meat in the Yankee Franks. You're welcome.
It is also true that the team used to regularly draw over 4 million fans in the last decade. But with all due respect, those were poorer fans, less willing to spend excessive amounts of money. We have upgraded to a higher clientele now, which needs more room to spread out, as I hope you will appreciate when you come out to the ballpark.
(If you don't appreciate it, then please do not come to the park. The staff is now hard at work considering whether we should peruse credit reports and background checks before allowing ticket sales.)
It has come to our attention that some of you remain unhappy with the team's performance on the ballfield. We are at a loss to understand this. Your New York Yankees won 921 regular-season games this decade, the most in MLB. They also won three division titles, and four of the coveted, Bud Selig Memorial Wild-Card Play-In slots.
Some of you have selfishly complained, nonetheless, that the team did not reach the World Series for the first time in a century. This sort of obsession with petty prizes will not be tolerated. Fans should look instead to what truly matters, which are the team's continuing, record profits.
Shouldn't it be of more moment that these are secured for the continuing happiness of The Chairman and his family, down to his distant progeny, than a few loutish athletes or your own happiness?
The only true setback this year was the early playoff loss of our beloved NYCFC soccer franchise, in MLS. This may retard our major corporate mission, which is to secure billions of taxpayer dollars to subsidize the building of a soccer stadium/luxury housing complex/office park in the Bronx—and then to continue on to a major global position in the lucrative and fascinating world of international football.
Even more tragically, NYCFC's one playoff game had to be held at Citi Field, because of the remote chance that your New York Yankees might make the World Series that you so obsess over. You will be relieved to hear that attendance was small enough so that the potential revenue loss was not significant.
(Good luck finding any account of what that attendance actually was. Our Publicity Department once again did an admirable job in utterly expunging any negative information from the public record.)
Finally, it has once again come to our attention that some of you continue to object to our administration of this corporation in general, with your fixation on nebulous achievements and priorities such as "wins," "great players," or "titles," over corporate profits.
As such diverse authorities as the estimable dictators of the Chinese people, Stephen A. Smith, my brethren owners in the NBA, and the agreeably pliable greedhead LeBron James have all informed you, there is no principal, no moral belief that is an adequate substitute for money, especially money that may be obtained by those who already control a great surfeit of it.
Anymore wrong-thinking, wrong-speaking, or wrong actions will be dealt with severely. ALL-CAPS, JM, Doug K., 13bit, Parson Tom, etc., do not fool yourselves into thinking you can hide behind your pathetic masks of misrepresentation. To all your brethren located in The Netherlands, Scotland, Austria, or wherever, please note that extradition laws can be adjusted as necessary. And not only governments can manufacture drones.
Warbler, take those pants off your head. Now.
Thank you for your support, and we look forward to seeing you in 2020 (with a better attitude). As for the team—MY TEAM—no adjustments will be necessary.
Your great friend in the sky,
HAL
...I'm sure HAL has suckered Lloyd's of London into a huge policy guaranteeing the money.
(Just what goes on at Lloyd's anyway? Your New York Yankees must account for half of their losses on an average year. What's the annual meeting of the board like?
"And once again, I am sorry to report, our American sports division has left us deeply in the red. I would like to call now on our division representative, Mr. Lloyd George Steinbrenner, to report on it. Mr. Steinbrenner?")
Anyway, let's do this in proper ORDER, as Mr. Bercow would holler, speaking of the English.
Today we're talking about first base, where our contenders for 2020 are:
Greg Bird (believe it or not)
Luke Voit
Mike Ford
EE
Various
Well, as Casey Stengel once said, when you got five first basemen, you got no first baseman (No, really, he actually did say that! Spring training, 1949.)
Believe it or not, some Yankee bloggers are actually excited about Bird, the man who has not hit so as .200 since 2015, maybe coming back. They picture him regaining his game in the winter leagues, and coming back to be the crucial, left-handed batter in the Yanks' lineup that ALL-CAPS and I always dreamed he would be.
But we all know better. Sadly, Bird is much more likely to become the first man ever to be infected with malaria, yellow fever, and dengue hemorrhagic fever from the same, single mosquito.
We can only hope that The Parrot Man is gone, too, after this postseason. And Various? Well, since he can't play the outfield, it might be an idea to give Giancarlo a first baseman's glove. But...no doubt, he would pull a hamstring, wrench his knee, and tear his Achilles tendon the first time he was required to touch the bag with his foot.
Andujar might be a prospect for the first sack, too, depending on how he mends from his own throwing arm injury. But we'll get to him when we hit third base.
Which leaves the lefty/righty versions of exactly the same player, Luke Voit/Mike Ford.
Voit, the righty, had 21 homers, 62 ribbies, and a .263/.378/.464/.842 slash in 118 games last year.
Ford, the lefty, had 12 home runs, 25 ribbies, and a .259/.350/.559/.909 slash in 50 games.
Ford is 27, Voit 28. Ford walked 17 times and struck out 28; Voit, walked 71 times, and struck out 142.
What I would do: All undue influence from the soon-to-be-independent nation of Scotland aside, I think Ford is an easy call.
The man has been an on-base machine his whole career, and seems to be growing into his power. Plus he and Voit are not QUITE the same player. Ford strikes out much, much less often than the (slightly) older Voit.
I like Luke Voit, a gamer who has done a lot for us. But ultimately, I would go with Ford and see what Voit might bring on the market, which is likely to not be nothing, particularly if he recovers well and looks good in spring training.
WWCCD: Voit going under the knife might, just might convince Cashman to take a real look at Ford next spring. But don't count on it.
Even though there is a long and admirable tradition of Ivy Leaguers in the majors—Lou Gehrig, Eddie Collins, Ron Darling, Gene Larkin, etc.—and even though Mike Ford looks more like a truck driver than a scholar—baseball men inevitably feel uneasy around people who have more book l'arnin' than they do. They always assume that smart college boys "think too much," and aren't tough enough.
There's a reason why Coops would not even take a real look at Ford until he was absolutely forced to this summer. Look for him to deal Ford for next to nothing, while hanging on to Voit..."core muscle" problems or not.
And look for Ford to pop up soon thereafter on the World Series roster of a truly smart organization such as the Cards or—heaven forfend—the Boston Red Sox.
All right, let's do this in an orderly, logical fashion—the same way we do everything else.
Set yourselves down by the potbellied, country store stove, now that the harvest is in....Somebody move the cracker barrel inside, shut the door against the chill, cut a wedge of cheddar off the big wheel, bring out the hard cider, and let's get started.
First order of business: Catcher.
Three individuals to consider: Fuck, marry, or kill—as the kids say.
Gary Sanchez
Austin Romine
Kyle Higashioka
Last off-season, supposedly, our esteemed general manager had the chance to trade Sanchez, even up for J.T. Realmuto. If he really did pass that up, it should be considered a war crime and prosecuted as such.
Sancho did have a better season than last year, that much is true. But hell, the Kurds are having a better season than Sancho's 2018. (Sorry—too soon?) He still seems like a shell of his 2016-2017 self, the man who reminded me of a young Johnny Bench.
Sancho was a .232 hitter this year, with an .841 OPS. He's down to throwing out only 23 percent of runners, from his career high of 41%, and the passed balls just returned with alarming frequency in the playoffs. About all he can still do is frame pitches well, and hit the occasional rocket blast into the bleachers.
One play would be to sign free agent Yasmani Grandal, and trade Sancho for the considerable number of players he might still bring. The trouble with that is, statistically—much as I would enjoy writing and saying "Yasmani" all year—Grandal is pretty much Sancho, four years older.
Romine is coming off his best year ever, 8 HRs, .281, .748 OPS, and throwing out a higher percentage of baserunners than Sancho (30%). But he's also a free agent, unfortunately, and the temptation will be strong to let him walk and replace him with...
Higgy. Who is also coming off his best year ever, which is, sadly, only .214 with three homers.
What would I do? Go hard to sign Yasmani and deal Sanchez. No, it won't be an upgrade over this year. But it likely WILL be an upgrade over what Sancho will likely degenerate to, very quickly, in New York, and the return he would bring right now would be considerable.
The risk, of course, is that elsewhere—with competent coaching—Sancho will bloom again and achieve the stardom he seemed to be headed for. But that will surely not happen in the Bronx.
WWCCD? (What Will Cooperstown Cashman Do?): Almost certainly marry Gary—that is, leave him where he is—and let Romine walk. Higgy will then become the new back-up until, Coops will tell us, his two big catching prospects, on whom he squandered the Yanks' first and second draft picks in 2018, make the majors (spoiler alert: they won't).
What Would YOU Do?
Remember her? The one with the green eyes and the way she had of flipping her hair that, well, just made your heart flip, too?
She was the lead in all of the Drama Club's musical productions. And after graduation, she announced that she was going to New York to become a real Broadway actress.
You tried to break it to her easy. You told her, "Gee, I know you can sing and dance, Alyssa, but, wow, that New York is a pretty unforgiving town."
And she flipped her hair again, and gave you that enigmatic smile that she developed from being the prettiest person in the room all her life, and told you, "Oh, I think it will be all right."
And she said it with such confidence that you even began to doubt yourself, and thought, well, maybe you just didn't want her to leave town.
And then she went to New York, and found out that while she could sing and dance a little, there were plenty of people there who could sing and dance even better, and who knew how to act, and yeah, it was a really tough town. Until after about ten years of waiting tables she went back to school in business communications, and at your 20th high school reunion she tried to sell you life insurance.
That's our Giancarlo.
The Marlins thought they had a deal done to trade him to St. Louis, if I recall correctly.
That's a nice town for a ballplayer, St. Loo. Great front office, always a contender. A nice, warm, welcoming Midwestern college atmosphere, where they all wear the team colors in the ballpark. The kind of place somebody who had never played games that much counted could feel right at home.
But no.
Like the pretty, green-eyed girl in all our hometowns, Giancarlo knew he wanted the big time. He knew he could play on the big stage, and walk in the footsteps of the gods, and be a matinee idol.
He knew all these things until he got here, and couldn't go when it counted.
His leg hurt, and maybe his side ached, and he just didn't feel right, not right enough to actually play, even though the houselights were down and the footlights were on, and the tickets were all sold and everybody was waiting for him to appear.
And he couldn't do it.
Of course it's not really the same with Giancarlo as with that green-eyed girl. Mostly because Giancarlo has already made nearly $89 million playing baseball, and has another $234 million guaranteed, which will be enough to take care of him and all the little Giancarlos and their descendants unto the generations.
But now he's finding out that it's not so easy and not so much fun to play on the biggest stage of all—not unless Reggie or Derek Jeter, or the Babe, at least. And sometimes not even for them.
It's hard, it's unforgiving, and unless he somehow redeems himself very fast—something Giancarlo Stanton does not seem in the least equipped to do, physically or mentally—his every footstep is going to be dogged by the Furies here in NYC.
Now we're hearing word that he would like very much to leave. That he would rather go to L.A., or...St. Louis.
That's nice—but it's too late. To trade Giancarlo Stanton now would be for Brian Cashman to admit he made a mistake, and that's not something that Brian Cashman does. And even if he wanted to, nobody is going to lay out that sort of cash to pay Giancarlo Stanton's contract, least of all Mr. Halliburton Q. Steinbrenner.
So there we are. The moral of our story is that it's not a small thing to know what you want, before you go after it. Because he did not, Mr. Stanton is going to spend a lot of time making us and himself very, very miserable here in New York.