Here's one straight from the psych ward:
The Yankees will bundle together J.A. Happ and Luis Cessa, then trade them to a city with one newspaper and two traffic lights - for a can of smoked sardines. Then, they will use all the money they've saved to whisk Gerrit Cole out of free agency.
Stop laughing. That's actually a plan put forth yesterday by Grand Buffalo to the Loyal Order of Gammonites, Mr. Joel Sherman. Talk about alchemy: The Yankees would somehow spin Happ and Cessa into Cole. A grand parlor trick, for sure. Suddenly, I'm 14 again! Let's trade Roger Repoz, Joe Verbanik, Tom Shopay and Thad Tillotson for Hank Aaron! Should we hold our breaths?
This is what happens when writers are forced to file 600 words a week, even though nothing is happening - which sums up baseball in late November. To be fair, Sherman quotes a rival executive in outlining this scheme, and he leaves enough caveats to make sure we understand what it is: High bulk fodder, so everyone can go home happily fed.
These days, everywhere you look, somebody is proposing a trade of Dopey Dildox for John Q. Frankenpoodle, plus a Cheeto to be named later. And here's the best part: None of them ever happen.
If we know anything about Cooperstown Cashman, it is that - historically - he never flags a move in advance. Search last winter's archives for "Yankees" and "DJ LeMahieu." Or do "Cashman" and "James Paxton." Prior to the deals, nobody - absolutely nobody - was proposing them. Instead, for the entire calendar year, they were calculating returns on the sure-thing trade of Clint Frazier, who somehow remains a Yankee.
Do any of us really think Cashman will go all in on Gerrit Cole or Stephen Strasburg, with a 10-year contract that could run $400 million, and cost the team high draft picks, to boot? I don't. And tell me what team out there will surrender anything of value for the 37-year-old Happ, whose most tempting attribute might be that his $17 million contract self-immolates after next year?
Fun to dream, eh?
Today, the Yankees might do three things. Don't hold me to them. It's just the wide-eyed 14-year-old inside me, speculating on deals:
1. They might trade Greg Bird. Yep, the end of the Bird Epoch. I still believe the guy will be Player of the Week someday, somewhere. But who can ever rely on those tender footsies? For the rest of his career, he will be an ingrown toenail away from the injury list. I don't mean to belittle Bird's injuries: Plantar Fasciitis is a bitch. But it will always be a lingering problem. Rather than drop him from the 40-man roster, and lose him in the Rule 5 draft, Cashman should trade him for a low-level prospect. Get something, instead of nothing. Sad.
2. They might do the same with Chance Adams. Same deal: Something, instead of nothing. Adams' Yankee career has come and gone. Two years ago, he streaked through the system and landed in Scranton, became one of the most anticipated young pitchers on the roster. Then came elbow surgery, and a long recovery. He used to be a starter. Now, his future is a bullpen lug nut A change of scenery might do him good. Sad.
3. For all the same reasons, they might move Nestor Octavio-Cortes Jr. But I think the Yankees will protect Nasty Nestor and see what happens. He's got a bit of Sergio Romo in him. You never know. If opposing batters don't see him twice, he might be a serviceable reliever.
But here's the truth: Whatta I know? In fact, by merely presenting trades, I believe the likelihood of them happening somehow decreases. For better or worse, that is the Cashman legacy. So, instead of plotting ways to get Cole, we should be wondering who could be this year's DJ LeMaheiu? And will we be lucky enough to have one?
Wednesday, November 20, 2019
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13 comments:
Yanks will trade Bird to the Orioles for international free agent money, where he will fly to his best Chis Davis impersonation for a season or two before the injuries bring him back to earth
Bird...Bird...this name rings a bell. Didn't we have a guy named Bird once? Lefty power hitter? Built for the short porch?
I kind of remember, but it was a long time ago.
YESTERDAY I READ AN ARTICLE SAYING HOW JAMES PAXTON HAS BECOME OUR #1.
IT SAID HE HAS BECOME OUR "JUSTIN VERLANDER" WITH HIS NUMBERS AFTER THE ALL STAR BREAK.
FUCK ME.
READ BETWEEN THE LINES.
NO NEED FOR AN ACE.
WE ALREADY GOT ONE!
THIS SHIT IS UNCONSCIONABLE.
ESPECIALLY AFTER WATCHING PAXTON ALL SEASON WITH THE INJURED KNEE THAT KEPT POPPING UP?
ESPECIALLY AFTER WATCHING HIS BOUT WITH GIVING MULTIPLE RUNS UP EVERY FIRST INNING, TIME AND TIME AGAIN?
ESPECIALLY AFTER WATCHING HIM TOIL THROUGH 3 2/3 INNINGS IN A PLAYOFF GAME?
ARE WE GOING TO BRING BACK ALMOST THE SAME STAFF THAT WAS VIEWED AS A "DISASTER" MORE THAN A FEW TIMES LAST SEASON?
OH, WAIT....
ZACK WHEELER SHOULD FIX THAT ALL UP.
FUCK ME.
"This is what happens when writers are forced to file 600 words a week, even though nothing is happening - which sums up baseball in late November."
Which just goes to show how amazing you are for writing more than that pretty much every day - all year round.
And no, I'm not sucking up, it's in genuine appreciation and awe.
Doug K.
The secret is that we are Russian computer bots, Doug K. I was specially programmed to go an extra-long, 10,000 words a week, although the frequent bourbon maintenance required sometimes puts me on the shelf.
Now, stare steadily at your computer for the next five seconds.
Vladimir Putin loves America...Vladimir Putin will save the world...Vladimir Putin is sexy man without shirt on...
There. I hope everything is clear to you now.
Bird will do a complete 180 next season and these are the stats I predict for him next year:
.318 BA
.467 OBP
2B 45
38 2
HR 39
RBI 133
In Japan
HOSS - I am here to obey. Where shall I direct my next series of tweets?
And ALL-CAPS, you can co-opt all the self-fucking. "Fuck Me," indeed. IT'S ALL FUCKING BULLSHIT.
WHAT ASSHOLES.
WHAT ASSHOLES.
AGAIN, WHAT ASSHOLES.
MEANT TO SAY "CAN'T" CO-OPT ALL THE BLAH BLAH BLAH.
FUCK ALL OF US.
FUCK YOU, BRIAN.
FUCK YOU, HAL.
FUCK YOU, GUMBY.
Hoss,
Yeah you're another guy. Didn't mean to leave you out. :)
Your Toravich,
Doug K.
CAN'T TAKE MUCH MORE, 13....
....AND THE OFF SEASON HAS BARELY STARTED YET!
I'm becoming truly furious.
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God bless you
I am very grateful for your help in my marriage.
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