No, Yankee fans are not shouting "Blake Snell Who?" following Clarke Schmidt's outing

Now and then, I wanna scream. 

I mean, I wanna bellow, cut loose and direct few million decibels - like a sunspot corona ejaculation - directly at Mt. Hal, until the entire Yankiverse dissolves into random molecules of Zolio Almonte and Greg Bird. 

This happens when Yank fans display Stage IV Stockholm Syndrome, and assume the boisterous, anti-spending views of our captors, Hal Steinbrenner and Brian Cashman. It happens often, I'm sad to say. We see good-hearted Yank fans take Hal's side in contract talks because, of course, those greedy players are asking too much, and we should bring canned food to games, so our poor owner can feed his starving children.  

It's one thing for a small market billionaire in Milwaukee or KC to whine about the financial imbalances of baseball, (though they're always first at the trough when luxury tax monies are being doled out.) But when the Yankees clutch their purse, as they've done over the last month with Blake Snell and Jordan Montgomery, you wanna turn off the Internet and watch Huckleberry Hound. Are we fans really that gullible? Is it an automatic that, whenever Hal says we can't afford a starting pitcher, we instinctively agree? Unfortunately, for lifelong Yank fans, whose childhood histories intertwine Yogi Bear and Yogi Berra, turning off the season is impossible. For better or worse, we'll cringe-watch 160 games from behind the couch.

Anyway, I just want the record to note that today - early March, the morning after a nice-but-meaningless outing against the Florida Marlins - some Yankee fans are NOT shouting "Blake Snell Who?" In fact, I'm still hollering that either Snell or Montgomery would be a huge boost to our chances in 2024, and that by mid-June we will be kicking ourselves for not signing one of the two. 

Sadly, Hal is unmoving, so we will do what we always do: Challenge for a wild card and hope to get lucky in October. 

And more likely than not, we will crumble in August, and then throw up our hands and blame the incredible wave of injuries that year after year decimate veteran rosters. I mean, WHO COULD HAVE PREDICTED SUCH A THING? 

Look...  okay... resetting here: I'm not without hope. Let's enjoy Clarke Schmidt's outing, though it was against a team that couldn't score a single run against us last week. Schmidt pitched four fine innings. After Gerrit Cole, he might be our No. 2 starter. 

Unfortunately, Will Warren - the first stopgap solution to an injury - was not so blessed. And one injury always seems to beget another. (Breaking News: Tommy Kahnle has an issue and might not be ready for opening day.) Our vaunted March rotation, by June, turns into the Scranton Shuttle. From there, it's Luke Weaver and the cast of Glee.

Oh, well, hey! maybe this time, it won't happen, right? Maybe this time, somehow, nobody will get hurt, and everybody will have his career year, right? And if so, I hereby promise to stand upon the mountain top, and scream into the void with all my might these three incredible words: "Blake Snell Who?" It will be wonderful. I can't wait.