The next eight years of Giancarlo Stanton are dangling over a perilous cliff

If Giancarlo Stanton cannot play this afternoon, the Yankees should spare him a pregame introduction. The thunderous boos will be too embarrassing. It will sound like a Bruce Springsteen concert. It will go on and on, beyond Stanton's ability to wince and shrug it off. It will be personal. It will be painful. 

If Stanton cannot play, the team should do the humane thing and place his whale-sized carcass on the Injured List, culling him from the 2019 post-season. They can bring up Mike Ford to platoon with slappy Edwin Encarnacion, whose ridiculous lunges at pitches made up for Stanton's absence on Sunday. (By the way, considering the Astros and Nats starters, a platoon would effectively exile the Parrot for the rest of October.) 

If we've learned anything about baseball's new reality, it is that ascending stars are getting younger and younger - 22 is the new 30 - and the team that bets on retreads will find itself watching them in the sauna. Stanton is on the verge of joining an elite club of total Yankee debacles - the likes of Carl Pavano, Kei Igawa, Kevin Youkilis, Danny Tartabull, and maybe even eclipse the demigod of inactivity, Mr. Jacoby Ellsbury himself, as the once-in-a-generation gaffe that jeopardizes the franchise. Considering the injuries that Stanton has compiled, prosecutors should investigate Brian Cashman for Munchausen by proxy. Something is going on here. 

It's hard to recall how, two winters ago, the trade that brought Stanton to Gotham was actually viewed as a Yankee steal - Cashman taking advantage of a rawboned, inexperienced, dullard named Derek Jeter. All the Marlins got in return was the younger brother of some guy named Rafael Devers (who was, incidentally, considered the better prospect - yikes!) Today, the notion of eight more Yankee years of Stanton fills our stomachs with concrete. We pay him $26 million the next two years. Then it rises to $29 million. In 2023, it bumps up to $32 million. It ends in 2028, at $25 million. Thinking about Stanton, I'm reminded of the way Carl Sagan used to describe the cosmos - "bill-i-ons and bill-i-ons..." In this case, the conclusion is that we are alone - alone with Stanton's concrete. We are screwed for eternity. 

By the time Stanton's contract ends, Miami will be underwater, the hills of California will look like Kingsford briquettes, and you'll need a passport to drive across the country.   

Of course, the Death Star will still be rich beyond our imagination. Maddening us the most will be Food Stamps Hal Steinbrenner's refusal to spend on players. Whenever a free agent comes on the market, Hal will point to Stanton - (his mistake, by the way, no one else's) - and outline plans to cut payroll. We once envisioned a perfect Yankee balance: We'd build a top farm system and supplement it with free agents. That will never happen. And whenever our owner steals away to count his money, he will post a giant picture of Stanton, which will silence all critics. In many ways, Hal will get value for every cent he spends on the behemoth. Stanton will get the boos. 

So, this afternoon, when the teams announce their rosters, let's hope Stanton is either playing in left field or on a boat to Hong Kong. Imagine it: The worst acquisition in Yankee history? Worse than Ellsbury? Wow. Folks, we may be witnessing the birth of a legend.