Saying Goodbye to Thairo…

From the relentless mind and lost computer of HoraceClark66...

What is it that Brian Cashman has against ballplayers? That is, what does he have against getting one—or several—when he gives up one?

 

As reported, Thairo Estrada is off to San Francisco for “cash considerations,” whatever that means. Stripper tip money? Whatever. Surely about the last thing that the Family Steinbrenner needs is more cash.

 

Somehow, there was nobody in all of organized baseball—no Single-A, lottery ticket pitcher, no back-up outfielder with a surprising ability at getting on base, no light-hitting Triple-A catcher who is a defensive whiz—nobody at all, who Cashman thought the Yankees could use under any possible circumstances.

 

Not to mention Estrada himself. Thairo’s departure is a shame, and no, it’s not just because I still have 10,000 “Thairo the Pharaoh” Egyptian headdresses still moldering in a Bronx warehouse. 

 

Thairo’s Yankees career was short-circuited by plenty of bad luck, not least being how he was shot during a hold-up in his native Venezuela.

 

Nevertheless, Estrada battled back, and even with the bullet still in his body reached the Stadium as a back-up in 2019. He played very well that year, when he was needed—then much less well in the Covid year, when he managed just 52 plate appearances.

 

Somehow, though, that rump of a season seems to count above all for the Brain (see Mike Ford). Thairo never really got a second chance.  This is a pity, since he proved that he could do a lot of things pretty well: hit for occasional power, steal bases (five, without being caught in 61 major-league games), and play every position on the field, save pitcher and catcher.

 

Not enough, according to Cashman, who is remains convinced, evidently, that there will never be another time, with this constantly injured team, that he will be needed again, and that moreover Thairo is so bad there is no sense in even trying to get another player, of any kind, for him.

 

So be it. I just hope Thairo Estrada remains bulletproof in San Francisco. I hope he plays so well and so diligently that Brian Cashman regrets that he ever heard the words, “cash considerations.”

 

 

…and to Dr. Bobby Brown.

 

With all the crazy excitement drummed up by this thrilling Yankees team so far this spring, we have also been remiss in failing to note the death of Dr. Bobby Brown, who won four rings with the great Bomber squads of the 1940s and ’50s.

 

Brown retired well before I was born, but I remembered hearing about him as a kid—usually on Old-Timers’ Day—and was mystified.  He was a ballplayer AND a doctor? How did that add up?

 

Dr. Bobby’s baseball career ran into its own bad luck, mostly in the form of two wars. He did a stint in World War II in the Navy, then a stint in Korea as a medic. His medical studies also cut into—and ultimately ended—his playing time.

 

Not that Brown ever seemed to mind very much. Publicly, he was always very cheerful, and he never expressed any regrets. A long and successful cardiology practice followed his baseball career, and then he became the last president of the American League.

 

As a ballplayer, Brown was a fine hitter for his (unjuiced) day. He didn’t have a lot of power, but he hit as high as .300 in a season and drew a goodly number of walks. Primarily a third baseman, he wasn’t known for his glove but—much like Thairo Estrada—he played nearly every other position in the field, when called upon to do so.

 

He served mostly as a lefty bat off the bench, and in this he excelled in four World Series, hitting .439 with a 1.207 OPS, and driving in 9 runs in just 46 plate appearances. 

 

I’m sure if Brian Cashman had been running the team, Brown would have been displaced by the dire need for a 7^th middle reliever, and shipped off somewhere for more “cash considerations.” As it was, he became a revered Yankee for his quiet but vital contributions. He died—no doubt smiling—at age 96.