A huge victory celebrates a rare Yankee attribute: Patience.

After all the bridges have collapsed, wouldn't it be weird if Albert Abreu turned out to be the most significant part of the famous 2016 Yankee teardown?

Forget Gleyber. Ignore Clint. Abreu came over in the relatively minor deal for catcher Brian McCann, who had achieved redundancy by the fantastical arrival of Gary Sanchez. One year later, McCann would haunt us in the ALCS, perhaps because he and his Astros teammates knew what pitches were coming. The Death Barge has held onto Abreu for five disappointing seasons, constantly touting his potential despite a Zager & Evans-worthy ERA last year of 20.25 - (if man is still alive.)  Abreu is one of those prospects who - at age 25 - feels like a thirtysomething due to the tiresome rain of ink and ether. 

And last night, he may have saved the Yankee season.

Okay, you're grimacing. I get it. That phrase, "may have saved the Yankee season..." it's a bit dramatic, don't you think? The key words are "may have..." And let's face it: A hallmark of this blog - all fan blogs, frankly - is our addiction to hyperbole. When the Yankees win, God is good. When they lose, it's over, and somebody must pay. 

Last night, despite Aaron Boone's continuing best efforts to mess things up, Abreu somehow pitched out of a bases-loaded jam to record his first MLB save. Therefore, I humbly suggest that, if anything becomes of the 2021 Yankee season, last night will have been a turning point when the Yankees realized that young and ascending pitchers - Abreu and Jonathan Loaisiga, basically - offer our best chances, and that the tribal elders - Zack Britton and the currently injured El Chapo - are past their sell-by dates. 

Any Yank fan who saw Britton warming up in the 10th probably turned off the TV and went to bed. Could you blame them? 

But Abreu saved the day. A line drive out, and a ground out. (Not exactly Mariano, but hey...) The Yankees stayed one game behind Boston in the loss column and - perhaps more importantly - increased their lead over Toronto, the scariest team in the AL after Tampa. 

But getting back to that 2016 trade... the Yankees dealt McCann to Houston for Abreu and Jorge Guzman, another Cashman Cutie. (In the Yankee-owned press, all Cashman deals are Cashman steals.) Guzman fizzled, but later became part of the deal with Starlin Castro and Raul Devers' kid brother that brought to Gotham - wallah! all roads lead to him, don't they? Giancarlo Stanton!

So, in a wandering alt-universe, somewhere out there, lurks a planet where the Yankees didn't do the 2016 teardown - no Gleyber, no Red Thunder - and they never traded for Stanton, and they lost last night behind Giovanni Gallegos because - oh, don't get me started - he's the guy they traded for Luke Voit - and a butterfly flaps its wings in Wuhan, China, it causes, what? Hurricane Fred, perhaps the funniest-named hurricane since Floyd? (Love the headlines that say Fred is currently "disorganized." Wasn't he always?)

So, the morale of last night? Kenny Rogers wrote it. You gotta now when to hold them, know when to fold them. The Yankees have held onto Abreu for five years, and he finally delivered. If you think about it, it's amazing that he's still here. Five years, and he finally paid a dividend. I'll take it, happily.

Year after year, the best teams in baseball have one thing in common: They all grow their own players. Don't bother looking at the Yankee home-growns - Judge, Sanchez, Gardy, Higgy, Monty, Tyler Wade, Luis Gil (and the Amazing Kriske). And Abreu - obtained in a trade - doesn't technically qualify. Still, I'm calling him one of ours. And last night, our farm system came through. Score one for patience. Imagine that: the Yankees... showing patience.