WWGHD? What would George have done?

 

For me, watching Aaron Judge take a point off the maple leaf last night was the highlight of the season so far. 

What's it gonna be tonight? Maybe a Judge home run crashing through a hotel window and landing next to a copulating couple in the Toronto ballpark/hot sheets motel?  

(I know, I know: more likely, our genius of a manager  will give the Big Guy his scheduled game of rest tonight.)

But the bottom line last night is that, for the second year in a row, MLB got gulled into launching a groundless harassment of the Yankees. Last year it was Tony La Russa, shamelessly exploiting the very real history of racism in baseball to give his team a momentary spark, pretending that he could not even bring himself to say the word..."Jackie."

This year, it was a couple of mumblebums in the Toronto broadcasting booth (picture below), who decided that Judge-y shifting his eyes for a moment constituted a capital offense. ("Take off, eh?" "No, I saw it! He winked at me, too!")

It all would've been good for a giggle, but the hosers who run our national pastime apparently instructed major-league umpires—a group that has lost more of its integrity than the Supreme Court in recent years—to do a thorough shakedown of your New York Yankees.

It was revolting to see—and especially revolting in that it resulted in a journeyman reliever who was having the season of his life for the Yankees, Ian Hamilton, getting injured. 

(Domingo German has mostly himself to blame for his ejection—though you would think, wouldn't you, that seeing what was coming A BRIGHT, WELL-PREPARED MANAGER would have warned his players, "Hey, don't give them any excuses tonight—and that means you with the sticky stuff, Dommie." 

(And under the incredibly stupid MLB rule, the Yanks aren't even allowed to bring up another pitcher to replace Bright Stuff during his 10-day suspension. Which makes total sense: A pitcher breaks a rule, so ratchet up the chances that another pitcher will get hurt.)

But I digress.

Everything that went down last night was due to another, baseless attempt to throw off the Yankees—this time by a team of bloated buffoons who, as Duque noted, are constant underachievers. If Vladdie, Jr., really is hurt, all I can say is, well, karma is some bitch, ain't she now.

You would think all this might have disturbed the team's owner, but HAL's busy work schedule precludes him from paying any attention to any such trivialities. Same with the Big Brain ensconced in the general manager's office.

Obviously, it's time to thaw Mad George. You know they've got him cryogenically preserved somewhere—probably on a slab right next to Walt. George's old partner in sociopathology, too, no doubt.

You think Billy and George would've stood for what went down last night in Toronto, Home of a Thousand Car Commercials? 

Then you got another think comin', my friend. 

Hey, I'm not pining for the old days (or the fjords). Most of the time, this merry duo were nothing but destructive. 

But some sort of protest has to be registered over this manufactured controversy. George would already have been threatening to pull his team out of Canada for the next two games. Martin would have already lathered a couple arbiters' faces with his incredibly disgusting specks of drool.

Time for the clowns who run this team today to at least be heard from.