Right before our eyes, the Yankees seem to be disintegrating

Gerrit Cole surrenders four homers in two innings. Jordan Montgomery follows,  does no better. Gary Sanchez, hitting .059, gives up four passed balls in an outing. At SS, Gleyber Torres commits four errors in eight games. Aroldis Chapman, in his delayed debut, gives up a rope double. Hitting below .200 are the names Gardner, Ford and Wade. Giancarlo Stanton is on Ellsbury Island, where he'll soon welcome Aaron Judge, who has a broken rib that should have healed by now. All this, in a span of barely three weeks.

I know, I know... we must never put stock in exhibition performances. (Last spring, DJ LeMahieu batted .205, while Kyle Higashioka hit .368.) Still, I cannot remember a stretch in Tampa more defined by lapses and setbacks, and we're only halfway through the python. The Death Star's inability to assess ailments makes the Coronavirus Keystone Cops look good. By waiting on James Paxton, Luis Severino and Judge, the Yankees squandered months of potential playing time - an entire winter of rehabilitation, lost. 

In mid-February, the self-congratulatory, giggling Yankees opened camp as the best team in baseball. It lasted about 48 hours. Today, they look like a wild card contender, struggling to keep pace with the Rays, who have unveiled a veteran Japanese slugger and their usual, next Cy Young. And that Yankee mantra, the one that goes, "Everyone back by July..." - it's perched on the notion that no more key players go down, a naive fantasy that fans no longer entertain. 

The dice are loaded. The juju gods have declared war. The 2020 Yankees - the team we thought would launch a great decade - seem to be coming apart at the seams. Injuries are killing us, opening weaknesses we otherwise could ignore, and there is no end in sight. Be afraid. Be very afraid.