Ouch. Aroldis Chapman wins the Henry Cotto Injury Award, Zack Britton's butt is barking, and the Yankees just lost to the worst team in the AL

Once upon a time, a fellow named Henry Cotto - then a 25-year-old, up-and-coming Yankee OF - unwrapped a Q-Tip swab and became a sporting legend. The story goes that Cotto was sitting on the bench, coaxing Shrek-like wax from his auditory canal and eustachian tube, when Ken Griffey - the father, not the son - accidentally bumped into him, rupturing his eardrum. 

This was the mid-1980s, a time measured in Mike Pagliarulo HRs and Matt Nokes passed balls, back when George Steinbrenner was hailed for building the worst team money could buy. Ever since, Henry Cotto has been a generational touchstone for idiotic baseball injuries, and there have been some great ones. (My fave, after Cotto, is John Smoltz, who supposedly burned himself while ironing his shirt - while wearing it.)

So, yesterday, former Yankee closer Aroldis Chapman joined this elite Darwin Club. Amid a career existential crisis, El Chapo got himself a brand new tramp stamp, yet another tattoo in his continuing quest to become a Ray Bradbury character. What was it, you wonder? A Yankee logo? A drawing of mom? Or maybe Jose Altuve, being clubbed in a garbage pail? Actually, it doesn't matter. The problem is that the tattoo became infected, sending Chapman to the Mystery Injury List, to rub Mazola onto his boiling sores for the next two weeks. We won't see him again until mid-September, when he might get a chance to make the postseason roster, though that looks increasingly dim. Cue the "Oh, shucks" tapes. That's Chinatown, Jake. You can't predict skin care, Suzyn.

For Yankee fans, the loss of Chapman is not the hideous, awful, terrible news it used to be. That's because El Chapo isn't the pitcher he used to be. I believe his next appearance was going to be after Wipeout Weissert had been used up, which would happen after Luke Bard was done, following Albert Abreu's return, with Josh Donaldson warming in the pen. In other words, a blowout game with absolutely nothing on the line beyond curiosity, for people to see what will happen.  

This would be tough news, if it weren't so comical. As it is, we must laugh. The juju gods must think we aren't on to them. It happened on a day when another once-great bullpen hope - Zack Britton - tweaked something in his 34-year-old butt during a minor league rehab assignment in Tampa. Britton was already a longshot to pitch in 2022. Now, he looks like a practical joke, as did the entire Yankee team last night. 

Last night, we lost to the worst team in the AL, unable to coax two hits out of the A's waxen eardrums. Well, maybe it doesn't matter. Tampa lost, so we still picked up ground within the division. But be careful, you clean-ear enthusiasts out there: Bad news comes in threes, we have no closer, and Henry Cotto lives.