The Cashman Conundrum!!

 

One of the worst days of my young fandom was December 11, 1975. The Yankees followed a disappointing season by trading off Bobby Bonds to the Angels for Ed Figueroa, and Doc Medich to the Pirates for Dock Ellis, Ken Brett, and Willie Randolph.

I was devastated.

Trade Bobby Bonds???

He was one of the best outfielders I'd ever seen on the Yankees! From a whole new level of National 

League, speed-and-power guys. He'd just run up another 30-30 season—in an age when only Willie Mays did that—by playing hurt for a crippled Yankees team long after it had faded from contention.

And for what? I'd never heard of Ed Figueroa. Mickey Rivers seemed like a clown, a weak-armed centerfielder who stole a lot of bases, which was what guys on clown teams like the Angels did. 

Mick might've been Quick, but he had hit one, count 'em, 1 home run in 1975. And he was going to play centerfield for the New York Yankees?

The other trade seemed nearly as bad. Ken Brett I remembered as a failed Red Sock. Willie Randolph seemed intriguing—but for the Pirates, then a perennial contender, to deal him and keep their other young second sacker, Rennie Stennett—seemed like a bad sign. 

And trade our second-best pitcher, Doc Medich, for Dock Ellis, perpetual troublemaker, the guy who bragged about pitching a no-hitter while on acid?  

None of this seemed like a good idea to my seventeen-year-old self. And yet, of course, it built the foundation for five Yankees division championships, four pennants, and our first two World Series wins since 1962. What did I know...compared to Gabe Paul, the canny baseball lifer, who George Steinbrenner had brought in to run the Yankees?

So I hear the calls to strip our present team down to the gunwales (whatever they are), and rebuild. To ditch EVERYBODY—maybe even Judge, Cole, and Soto—and start from scratch. The only problem with that? The Yankees are no longer run by Gabe Paul, or Gene Michael, or Bob Watson, or Buck Showalter. 

That's right...once again we've come up against—

THE CASHMAN CONUNDRUM!

Every time we look in fresh disgust upon another Cashmanic flop (such as this team), the natural urge is to chuck it all and begin again. And that just might work save for the fact that...the guy who would be doing it is the same Laurel who got us into this fine mess to begin with. 

Quick show of hands: who here really trusts Brian Cashman to get full value for Aaron Judge? Or Gerrit Cole? How about Gleyber Torres? Trent Grisham?

Yeah, I thought so. 

Sorry, but I say forget all the strip-down trade ideas, in the distant hope that some day, Brian Cashman will decide to seek the eternal light, and trip away to a Himalayan monastery. 

In the meantime, I at least want guys like Judge and Soto, especially, around to give me some modicum of entertainment.

Speaking of which: did you know that Soto is one of exactly 2 players to hit at least 25 home runs and draw at least 80 walks in his first 100 games with a team?

The other two are Juicin' Mark McGwire...and The Babe. Ruth, that is. 

I want that guy around. I don't want whatever magic beans The Brain will get for him.