So, are the Yankees this good, or is Baltimore that bad?

Six in a row. Eight out of 10. Tied for 2nd best record in baseball. (And in NYC.) Is it real, or is it Memorex? Or, more likely, Balto/Cleve?

Clearly, the O's and Guards played Will Smithian roles in this week's visits by Mister Ryan McBroom. Especially the O's, whom I - obviously, naively - assumed would improve this season (dismissing the John/Suzyn Scale of Baseball/Life Predictability.) 

Listen, no team sucks forever, right? Stopped clock, right? Yet there they were yesterday, with Jorge Mateo at SS, where the Yanks punted on him four years ago, waving his glove at grounders like a matador at a charging bull. Same old O's. Fourth worst record in baseball. Wasting Cedric Mullins in CF. Still waiting on Trey Mancini, when Henry Mancini might be a better bet. How do they do it?

Okay, everybody, keep repeating, "TO BEAT THE RAYS, YOU BASH BALT BIGGER... TO BEAT THE RAYS, YOU BASH BALT BIGGER..." And we did. So there's that. 

And I'm not dismissing the fact that during my bout of Covid - (no lie, I had it) - we won six straight. Scientists know little about the mysterious phenomenon called "Sick Juju," but it's real. You get a toothache or a swollen thingy, and your team goes on a tear. Nobody knows why. But I believe it's because the juju gods are pleasuring themselves with you. (They have no discipline.) They want to see how much pain you will accept, in return for a few wins. This week, it worked - though Baltimore also had something to do with it. 

Okay, as they say in the Canadian comedy, LETTERKENNY, "Pitter patter, let's get at'er:" What hath this streak shown?

1. Our bullpen has started to wince. Four arms per game will do that. It remains our strongest strength. It might be best in baseball. But both Jonathan Loaisiga and Mean Chad Green have endured rough outings, and El Chapo remains a box of Forrest Gump chocolates. 

As long as Clay Holmes and Michael King remain impeccable, I suppose we're okay. But yesterday, despite a huge lead, the game ended with Aroldis warming in the pen. Yeesh. There was absolutely no reason why Chapman should have needed to pick up a ball, much less start throwing. If you believe in the Finite Number of Bullets Theory for pitchers - (and if you believe in sick juju, you're already there) - then Chapman just fired off a round he'll need later this season. 

2. Thanks to Baltimore, the Yankees became opportunists. They made the O's pay for nearly every mistake. That's not nuthin.' And somehow, Tim Locastro played Malcolm in the Middle of every rally. (He went 1-2 with 2 walks and 2 runs.) Locastro is the Reverse Joey Gallo, a small-ball bat on a long-ball team. 

I realize that, at this point, there is no point in arguing for Gallo to be benched or replaced. The Yankees will go with him at least through May. (And they probably should.) But if you look at all the HR firepower in the lineup, I'd submit they need a pest more than another basher. It doesn't necessarily need to be Locastro. But they cannot win a championship with a LF who hits below .200. And, increasingly, that looks like Gallo's fate.

3. Sad story. Miguel Andujar came up for three games - Aaron Hicks' paternity break (yeah, like it's really a break?) - and never touched a glove or a bat. He was crushing it at Scranton. Now, watch him return and go into a deep, disillusioned slump. It's not fair.

I don't know what to do about Miggy, whose defensive liabilities at 3B and LF don't offer easy answers. Still, what a waste. 

Okay, who's willing to get food poisoning for the weekend in KC? Give me an address, and I'll ship the clams.