They say nobody ever has enough pitching. Right now, pondering the 2022 Yankees, that's not true.

Enlightenment 101: A key to life is knowing when you've got it good. 

Right now - 4/21/22 - let this news herald from the snowy mountaintops and fruited plains, to the ships at sea and toll booths along the Thomas E. Dewey Thruway, to the tornados of Topeka and the sinkholes of Sarasota, and to lizard aliens in far regions of the galaxy: 

The scientists and shamans got it wrong. You CAN have enough pitching.

For now, the Yankees do. 

For now. 

Savor this moment, comrades. It won't last. Intrinsically, we know that nobody EVER has enough pitching. It's one of Zeno's Paradoxes, an unwritten law of Newton: It is mathematically impossible to have ENOUGH pitching - (unless you're working of a math text from Florida, perhaps) - and yet, have you noticed? 

The Yankees have now endured three crapola outings from Gerrit Cole. We're talking about three starts that should have pushed our bullpen into Defcon 5 - and yet, it's still standing. 

The Yankees have endured:

a) A complete meltdown by Joey K. Gallo, offensively and defensively. 

b) The continued implosion of Gleyber Torres, whose path might follow those of Gary, Clint, Birdie and Miggy. 

c) The bumpy arrival of Josh Donaldson. 

And yet, we've still had pitching, pitching, pitching - enough to send JP Sears to Scranton. 

How long will this last? Dunno. When that liner hit Jordan Montgomery last week, I instantly figured him out for the season. Now, he looks like a solid No. 2 starter. Whenever Luis Severino pitches, we expect him to grab a gonad and disappear into a helicopter. But last night, he battled through tough innings and prevailed. Then there is Jameson "The Unbearable Weight of Massive" Taillon and baseball's version of Mysterio - Nasty Nestor Cortez. How far can they go? Dunno.

Which brings me back to Cole. (And, by the way, if you're wondering what's gotten into me, this optimism? It's a TWO GAME WINNING STREAK, BABY, THAT'S WHAT! WOOHOO.) If Cole turns out to be a 2022 washout, we're screwed, tanned testicles or not. No matter who steps up, we will eventually face a reckoning of blown leads and - worse - blown elbows. The Yankees cannot withstand such a loss. But Coles' woes Tuesday stemmed not from velocity but control. Guy couldn't throw strikes. Let's remember that, in a normal reality, these would be the final hours of spring training. Time is a flat circle, and space is Woody Harrelson's beer bottle. And ever since Cole brought that kid's sign - Yankee Fan for Life - to his Yankee unveiling, I have loved this guy. Fingers crossed. He just needs a solid outing. That's all. Right? (Tell me I'm right.) 

How long will this little fling last? My guess is we'll be screaming for Sears - or Cashman's head - by May 1. 

But jeeze, let's be wise here. Right now, right this minute, we have something the juju gods never bestow upon our like: The Yankees have pitching. So, let's go... Sweeeeeeeep.