No lead is safe, and the Yankees are in a free-fall

 
Admit it: Last night's best Yankee hope vanished around 7 p.m., when it stopped raining. At that point, with the tarp re-rolled and no push for a protest cancellation, the Death Star had no choice but to trot out another dead lineup for a dead journey in this increasingly dead season. We are head-down in the water, as Tampa disappears on the horizon, and the hot young, pool boy breaths of Toronto tickle our cold, dead butt sores. And I mean that, literally.

Last night, our third and fourth batters - the comedy team of Hicks and Sanchez - were both hitting below .200. The bottom five featured aging cast-offs - the singer-songwriters Mercer and Kratz - and former future stars - Andujar/Wade/Estrada. Then there is the bullpen - dear God, wasn't this supposed to be a strength? - waiting like the Babadook to pop out of the bushes and shank any lead that somehow came our way. Oh, the humanity!

The Yankees have now lost seven straight - nearly 12 percent of this mini-Cooper season. In an honest year, we would be facing the statistical equivalent of a 19-game losing streak - the kind of meltdown from which few teams escape. Normally, such a fiasco would provoke a human cry to throw in the towel and tank the season, to chase future prospects and high draft picks - you know, like Boston is doing. But we know that won't happen. Nope. The worst is yet to come.

In past seasons, the Yankees have often floundered in May, the painful second month, as their veteran inner tubes slowly adjusted to the league. Often, they would right the leaky ship by July-August, in time for the stretch. Consider the case of Chad Green, who last year was savaged so wickedly in May that he needed a month in Scranton to rework his psyche. Yesterday, Green gave up three towering homers along with a three-run lead. This week, he has no Scranton option. There is no International League. There is only the Mets, licking their chops for another go.

Last night, the YES propagandists cheered news that DJ LeMahieu and Kyle Higashioka will soon return from injuries. Excuse me if I fart. LeMahieu raises hope, but Higashioka is another nope... and all the positives added together are still crushed by the bad news: Aaron Judge will likely miss two weeks - returning with a handful of games left - and Gleyber Torres - our most critical cog - will miss three to six weeks. In other words, he's probably done.

Hey, did I mention that we have no closer? Well, we have no closer. Did anybody last night think Aroldis Chapman - after missing 10 days - would hold a one-run lead? When he walked the lead-off batter, the game was over. (Oh, and by the way, did you notice that the Mets have a base-stealing specialist, Billy Hamilton? With a 28-man roster, it's quite doable. But not for the Yankees, though. They need 15 pitchers - for a seven inning game.) El Chapo proved himself to be in withering, October walk-off form. We have him for two more years, at $16 million per. Did I mention that we have no closer? Well, we have no closer.

So, here we are: 

We have the sixth best record in the American League. If the post-season started today, we would face either the White Sox or Indians - currently tied - in a best of three series. Worst of all, the trade deadline - the ultimate death star - is approaching. Does anyone not think we were showcasing Estavan Florial yesterday? We are preparing to trade our future for somebody else's past. 

In other words, we have learned nothing from the last 11 years.

Pray for rain.