So long, Franchy, hello, Jake: The desperate Yanks grasp at a new straw

If you hear an evil, Draconian cackling on the wind, don't grab the garlic. It's not Nicolas Cage - just the unholy chuckle of Redsock fans, savoring the Franchy Cordero narrative.

For a few magical days in an otherwise rainy April, Yank fans lived the fantasy that Cooperstown Cashman had - (holding my nose now) - "done it again!" Yes, the Bigwig of Baldness he had woven yet another patch on his quilt of scrap yard reclamations. He had plucked Franchy from a recycling bin following a Ruthian month of March for the then-inconsequential O's. He hit three HRs, two game-changers, and John Sterling shouted, "You can bet the ranchy on Franchy!" a homer-holler soon to be a trivia answer in hardcore Yankee hellholes.  

I plead guilty. I envisioned Franchian blasts that bent Bostonian noses, as he achieved the potential he once embodied. It's been a while since the Yankees found gold while panning Redsock stool. The worst part of this millennium is not insulated crocs, but Boston's four rings, twice as many as ours (and that's if we include 2000.) On April 10, Franchy looked like a steal.

Oh, those were the days...

Last night, he was dispatched to Scranton after going 0-for-3 - (on an Ozempic-worthy 1-for-21 shrinkage) - with two Ks and a pair of OF blunders. I haven't read the agate in Franchy's contract, but my guess is that he'll look around - fruitlessly - for another MLB team, and then start calling rental agents around Moosic. 

The Yankees will turn to Jake Bauers, another former OF-1B prospect who is better suited for DH. They will swap Bauers' April for Franchy's March, though neither matter. Bauers, 27, is a career .213 hitter with a puncher's chance of homering - he  had 7 in Scranton. Last year, bumbling around Triple A, he hit .183. No matter what Bauers does tonight, let's hold off on the Matt Carpenter comparisons. 

Of course, last night never felt real. It was a mismatch - their best starter against our worst. (Though that is arguable, I suppose: Brito vs. Schmidt? A debate in hell.) 

By the fourth inning, the Yankees were plucked and cooked. Meanwhile, the outcome was overshadowed by an MRI on Aaron Judge's hip, a scan with implications beyond our dolphin-like comprehension. This could be a hiccup, with Judge returning soon. But if the scan reveals something - (and rest assured, the Yankees won't tell us) - it might affect the season and the decade. We're talking about a hip. This is not a hamstring. 

Yes, it's early. That's our golden mantra. But at the standings are starting to pinch. Look at the AL East: Three young, ascending teams are starting to separate from the tired, lackluster bottom-dwellers. It's too early to self-immolate, and swapping out Franchy for Bauers is a nothing-burger - no, a meatless Impossible Nothingburger. 

So long, Franchy, we'll always have Paris. I'm just glad we didn't bet the ranchy.