And the Yankee collapse continues...

 We can scream at the mountain, I suppose. It doesn't matter. The mountain doesn't listen. It never will.

The mountain doesn't need us. It will do just fine without our attentions, our obsessions. We cannot affect it in any way. If, tomorrow, we were to stop yelling - if we were to vanish from the earth and no longer exist - the mountain  would not notice. It would not detect our absence in any way. To the mountain, we are insignificant.

The mountain is Hal Steinbrenner - a billionaire who pretends to be a millionaire, so that people will feel sorry for him. Twelve years ago, Hal inherited the franchise and promised to maintain its grand traditions. Ever since, the team's revenues have grown incredibly, while the payroll remained basically the same. The Yankees won the world series in 2009 - (propelled by Alex Rodriguez and performance enhancing drugs) - and nothing of consequence since. This year, that will continue. If they happen to make the post-season, they will quickly get bounced. But they will probably finish below the relatively meager requirements for making the playoffs. They will likely finish fourth in the AL East, ahead of only Baltimore.

But actually, it's worse. The Yankees traded a huge chunk of their future - 12 prospects from their farm system - for a brief jolt of energy, which mostly came from a few fringe players like the ones they traded. The 13-game winning streak is now a distant memory. They are a team that is publicly wetting itself. They are beyond embarrassment. Everyone in baseball sees it. 

Between now and October 4, I suppose they will make a mini-run at relevance. They'll win, say, three in a row and raise our hopes. That's what they do: They briefly get hot, and the fan base - roused last week by the memories of Derek Jeter - will take the bait and hope for something magical. 

But the mountain will not change.

We will have all winter to yell at it, if that is what we wish to do. 

I dunno, anymore. Maybe the mountain needs to hear silence - loud with nothingness - that is, if it were to listen at all.