With Alex Verdugo, nothing right now makes sense for the Yankees

 

Siddown. Here, drink this.  It'll settle your nerves. Take a deep breath. I got some - well - some weird news.

The Yankees have obtained the  annoying, middling, party animal LF Alex Verdugo - age 27, an iconic Redsock disappointment - whose previous claim to fame was yet another trade, the one that sent Mookie Betts to Hollywood Gomorrah. 

In exchange, Boston receives three minor league arms and Verdugo gone, maybe a reward unto itself. 

Listen: I dunno about this. By itself, this trade is a big, cold, half-congealed nothing burger. It provides protein, I suppose, but it's not to be consumed on an empty stomach. It's just a lump in the Matrix.  

So, I guess we've reached a brief intermission in this movie. Brian Cashman just stepped out on the ledge, he's pancaked against the building, and it's a long, long Hans Gruber drop to the street. Who knows what to make of this? A Redsock fan friend last night sent this message: Verdugo will be good in Yankee Stadium. Only have to worry his off field activity. Likes the nightlife.  

Oh? Great. Then NYC is the perfect place for him. Nothing going on after 9 p.m. 

So, Verdugo... WTF? Here are some scenarios:

1. It's no-go on Soto. San Diego wanted too much, so instead of Juan Soto in LF, we'll watch the New Red Thunder. Maybe we'll chase the free agent door prize, Cody Bellinger, though his price tag is also supposedly out of the world. If Soto and Bellinger are out, and Verdugo is our cold reality, the 2024 Yankee winter could hinge on Yoshinobu Yamamoto. The Death Barge may have just told SD to fuck itself, and Hal Steinbrenner is marshalling his dimes to sign the pitcher. (Who, fun fact, is still three years younger than Greg Weissert, whom they traded.)

2. We're seeking a three-way. Verdugo will be "Yankee-For-a-Day," heading somewhere in a 3-dimensional deal that frees Soto from the Comicon city and scatters prospects to the wind. It's a game of superhuman brain power, and thank God we have humanity's answer to AI - strategist Brian Cashman - sitting atop the mathematical shit pile of future moves.  

3. It's a drug trip. Remember that shot you downed? It was Yoo-Hoo chocolate drink laced with Fentanyl, and you're lying in a gutter somewhere, hallucinating about IT IS HIGH in your final moments. God, you must have lived one fucked-up life, to be coming here in your last astral visitations. Then again, death may be better than what's in store for the 2024 Yankees with Verdugo leading off. 

4. It's Iceland. The whole place is about to blow up, a massive volcano of trades that will reshape the Death Barge is ways that none of us can comprehend. Our OF might be Soto, Judge and Verdugo, and - think of this: If Verdugo improves on 2023 by eight measly percentage points, he could lead the team in batting, at .274! 

5. It's Mayberry RFD. Sam Drucker just called. He says the Yankees have punted on 2024, the lights are out, everyone's gone to sleep, and nothing more will happen this winter. Wake me when we sign Kevin Kiermaier.  

Honestly, flummoxed here. Drink. It's the only answer that makes sense.