Yanks encountering Judge dread, but but BUT... this aint ova. The Dodgers came to NYC last week, but they aint seen nothing like what's to come.

Welp, here we are, back to where it began. We're those kids in The Blair Witch Project, when they discover they've been hiking circles in the forest and won't escape this movie alive. We have reached the Babadook, that manic curse of runaway nerves that has consumed Yankee lineups for 15 years. We are lost in the haunted woods of October.

Since April - our best start in this generation - we've awaited (and dreaded) this moment, the world series, wondering how we'd do when everything mattered. Now, here we are, wondering if we'd have been better off not getting here, not embarrassing ourselves on a national stage.

Monday night, Aaron Judge will hear chants of "MVP! MVP!" as the throngs seek to re-set his tilting statue. But if he keeps lunging at pitches - and he might - the cheers will lessen, settle into a din, and then, at the torturous end, maybe bring scattered boos that Juan Soto will surely notice. 

We've seen it happen. We've seen postseasons so horrific, so poisonous, that they not only cost us the current October, but they roll over into next year, and further. 

When we see Judge trudge back to the dugout, we see the ghosts of A-Rod, Grandyman and Swish. When we see Clay Holmes walk the leadoff batter, we see Aroldis, Flash Gordon and Tanyon Sturtze. We see Octobers so dreadful that they will accompany us to our graves. We see a haunted past, which turned on us in 2004, and which remains un-exorcized.   

Those are the stakes, my friends. If we lose two more games, not only will 2024 be a disappointment, but it could set up a future crossroads for Yankee decline. We can cheer Giancarlo Stanton's revival, but how does a legless, 35-year-old fulltime DH fit into 2025? That's another matter. Two more losses, and a massive roster upheaval will begin with a sour taste on our tongues.

But but BUT... (as stated above)... This. Aint. Ova. No, it isn't. We can still win this thing.

How can I say this? Why am I shilling for Cashman and Boone? Did they get to me? Have they kidnapped a loved one? Am I on some exotic drug, or am I wearing a shock collar? No. Hear me out. This. Aint. Ova. Why?

1. Judge will hit. Eventually. We all know this. If we win Monday, it means an extra game for him to snap out. It's a six-day, long-distance game of chicken. We need to stretch out time, make every minute last 63 seconds. And we can do this. Grinding out time is one of this team's greatest skills. All we need to do is slooww... thinnnnnnngs... dowwwwwwwwwwn...  

2. Somehow, last night, our bullpen held. Donno how, but it did. I think we're done with Carlos Rodon, who should have never thrown another pitch after the score became 3-1. If Rodon pitches again, it's on an inning-by-inning, batter-by-batter basis. That said, I like Clarke Schmidt. And maybe I'm nuts, but I believe Marcus Stroman, maybe even Nasty Nestor, will return for redemption. 

3. Then there is Ohtani. Who knows how this affects this? Great teams often rally when a star goes down. Not only that, but Ohtani wasn't exactly killing us. I love how we'd thrown him out at second. But if he's hurt, that's one less major stress point per every third inning. And if he's compromised, maybe he goes 0-for-10? 

4. I like that we made it a game in the 9th, and that - in the end - they were clutching life preservers. Jose Trevino whacked that ball, he's just not Freddy Freeman, that's all. Long flies are what you get, when he whacks one. But we made them sweat. 

4. The NYC haunted forest is here. We can run the table. The Dodgers think they saw the full madness of NYC last week. Nope. They aint seen nothing like what's to come. This is a Yankee crowd, in Yankee Stadium, with everything on the line. And like us, they've been thinking about this series since February. This sounds stupid, I know, but we've got 'em where we want 'em.