Publius: Anybody see the news that the Yankees will be involved at Times Square on New Years Eve?

From commenter Publius...

League pennants used to not be good enough for NYC, but times change.

Anyway, word is Judge and Cole will be featured. Judge will drop the ball, and Cole will stand there and point at it.

An Above Average Haiku Tuesday - Indigestion and Lower Intestinal Blockage Edition

 

Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear

It was fun, seats were cheap and plentiful, and there was no assault on your ears. 

Assuming you liked Eddie Layton.

 

Yankees: Keep Cole and Carry On, while Caleb "Arizona" Durbin chases the immortal Rick Holifield

By now, you know that Gerrit Cole's "Et tu, Brute?" free agency lasted barely 24 hours, and he's ours through 2029 - age 38 - as is, hopefully with the Verlander gene infused in his spit. Meanwhile, let's hope the Death Barge wins something, so Cole doesn't spend the rest of his life recalling his role in "the Yankee Buckner." 

What's sorta weird here is that, apparently, Cole accepted the same contract that he opted out of, a phantom haggle that - I can't help wonder - contains hidden consequences. Basically, the story being sold is that Scott Boras - once, the most terrifying name in MLB front offices - took Cole to the marketplace and then yanked  him back. Does that make sense? Nope, unless... 

1. Unless Cole never wanted free agency to begin with, and Boras jumped the gun. This happened long ago with A-Rod - remember? - who opted out during a world series, then canned Boras and signed with the Yankees, hat in hand, seeking to make nice.

2. Unless Cole and Boras realized that nobody would beat a 4-year offer at $144 million for a 34-year-old who last year pitched 95 innings and might forever be recalled as "the Yankee Buckner." 

3. Unless Boras secured some secret, boilerplate change that will haunt us later. Are brown M&Ms still a thing?  

Whatever. Everybody loves Cole. That sign - "Yankee fan for life" - it still touches our hearts. He'll always be that innocent, adorable 9-year-old. If you think watching the Eagles' Saquan Barkley vault defenders is hurtful to Giants fans, watching Cole pitch for, say, the Blue Jays would be cruel and unusual juju punishment, even for the most obnoxious of us. 

So, he'll be back. Gleyber? Nah. Holmes? Probably gone. Soto? That's the question. 

If Soto leaves - no matter where he goes - there is absolutely no way the Yankees can spin the next three months in a positive way. Already, the Mets secretly own NY. (The media hasn't figured this out yet.) If the Mets sign Soto... kaboom. 

Wait! No! I take it back! There is Caleb Durbin, the Chuck Palahniukian pigmy - (at 5'6," even Anthony Volpe will tower over him; think of the photo ops with Aaron Judge) - now on the verge of beating Rick Holifield's all-time Arizona Instructional League single-season record for SBs. Why isn't ESPN doing cutaways?

In February, Durbin turns 25. It's sorta sad that he is The Distraction, but I'll take it. Last year, over three levels of the Yankee farms, he hit .275 with 18 HRs. (His HR numbers would be better, but he broke his hand and missed about 40 games.) Guy plays everywhere, but I gotta think he's a 2B.

Of course, it's worth wondering about the quality of catchers in an "Instructional" League. This season, over 18 games, Durbin has stolen 22 bases, caught stealing just once. He's hitting .265 with 3 HRs, only 4 Ks and 13 walks - (small strike zone?) - an OPS of .849. Yeah, it's a long shot, a moon shot, but I'm biting. If there's a pinprick of light, we'll sail towards it. 

Gerrit Cole will return. But really... The Yankee Buckner? 

...And Gleyber Is Gone! Maybe...

Yanks do NOT extend a qualifying offer to The Gleyber. Meaning that he could be back anyway, but not for anything like what he's making.

Hip, hip, hooray, and ballyhoo! 

It's a shame for Gleyber. But just too many seasons of lackadaisical, uninvolved play—right up through the late World Series—for me to be upset. 

And maybe, just maybe, this means money for Soto.

Yay! Flouncy's back!

I kid, I kid. I'm actually glad that Gerrit Cole is coming back. He pitched very well in the playoffs and particularly the World Series...and is almost the only starting pitcher we can count on.

He and the Yanks have not yet agreed on his extension, but they have agreed that he will stay, and they can keep talking. So good.

What this means about Juan Soto...probably nothing good. But if they're going to re-sign and extend Cole, then signing Soto really makes all the more sense. If they're going to stick with the vets, they're going to want to contend.

"Let me tell you how it will be..."

Wondering what the Yankees are going to do if they can't sign Juan Soto?

Just consult The Yankee Way: The Untold Inside Story of the Brian Cashman Era, by Andy Martino.

Martino's book contains a firsthand description (pp. 259-263) of how Cashman and his staff reacted as the attempt to re-sign Judge came to a head, just as MLB was having its annual winter meeting in San Diego, in early December, 2022. As rumors spread that Judge was about to sign with the Giants or even the Padres, Cashman and the Yankees "braintrust"...essentially did not have a clue.

Here are a couple lines from Martino, who was in San Diego, covering the meetings, and running into Cashman, Boone, and other Yankees front office guys at their hotel:

"...it felt as if the Yankees were losing the thread. They were now in the dark during a crucial point in negotiations, unaware even where Judge was or planned to be."

Boone "and several high-ranking Yankee officials" sat in a bar, debating whether Judge was flying to SD, as rumored, whether or not Boone should call him...and generally sounding like a cast of Waiting for Godot. "Cashman remained up in his suite, working."

The next day, as rumors spread that Judge had maybe already decided to go home to San Francisco, the Yanks fell into complete disarray:

"For the first time, the front office discussed among themselves the notion that perhaps Judge was done as a Yankee...Upstairs in the Yankees' suite, Cashman and his lieutenants fell silent. A few dropped their heads into their hands...the room was soon funereal: there was quite typing, the occasional sigh, and the heavy feel of dejection." 

That evening, with everything still unresolved:

"A pair of Yankee executives passed through the lobby of the Hyatt, their shoulders sagging, their mouths turned downward...In [the] fortieth-floor bar, sitting on couches that sat low to the ground, some in the ton office began to speculate on next steps after Judge left. Would it be better to sign the next-best free agent (at that moment, shortstop Carlos Correa)...Maybe the Yankees should sign the center fielder Brandon Nimmo and as much pitching as they could gather? 

"This is how uncertain the future of the Yankees became at that moment...Cashman did not participate in this gathering. Wary of being seen by the public with a drink in his hand when news broke that Judge was signing elsewhere—how would that go over with an angry fan base?—he remained in the suite."

Yep. 

This is, mind you, in a book that's well worth reading, but which can best be described as hagiographic whenever it turns to Brian Cashman. Nonetheless, we learn how thoroughly unprepared the Yankees were in dealing with what had been an obvious possibility for at least a couple years. 

There was no Plan B. There was no plan A. There was just random speculation. 

"Maybe we should sign Nimmo" (pictured above), a perfectly adequate outfielder who batted .224 this season, has an OPS over 200 points below Judge's, and is know mostly for running to first when he gets walks.

Hurrah.

You can rest assured that, with the Yankees, nothing has changed, and there is still no plan in place. If and when the youngest superstar in the majors—a superstar who already cost them a first-rate starter—walks off the team, the New York Yankees will, maybe, sign the closest thing to Brandon Nimmo.

Or maybe not. Maybe this year, they'll just count on us being satisfied with Spencer and The Martian, and save Hal even more money. 

What a farce.

 

Hot Take on the Proposed Starting Lineup

Analytics loves to break up leftys and righties. What about tall and short?  

1) Jasson (Tiny  5'9") CF

2) Judge (Huge 6'7") RF

3) Durbin (Tiny 5'6") 2B

4) Stanton (Huge 6' 6") DH

5) Jazz (Medium Sized 5'11") 3B

6) TJ Rumsfeld (Huge 6'5") 1B

7) Volpe ( Tiny 5'9") SS

8) Wells  (Normal 6"2 big for a catcher) C

9) Spencer Jones (Huge) 6'6" LF

The Yankee batting order for April 1, 2025

Jasson Dominguez* CF
Aaron Judge RF
Jazz Chisolm 3B
Giancarlo Stanton DH
Austin Wells C
DJ LeMahieu** 1B
Anthony Volpe SS
Some New Guy*** LF  
Caleb Durbin**** 2B

* The Yankees will be crazy desperate to market The Martian as the next Juan Soto, who might be a Met. There is no better batting slot in MLB than hitting in front of Aaron Judge. However Dominguez looks in Tampa, they will assure us that he has learned to catch pop flies. 

** At 36, DJ will win Olympian spring training competition over Oswaldo, TJ Rumfield and Dollar General journeymen (Jake Bauers, Ji-Man Choi, et al), and be touted as Comeback of 2025.

*** Whomever this is, he was really good in 2022. Looking to rebound from last year. Team-friendly contract, too! Nobody's even heard of the prospects we dealt. Cashman wins again!

**** Durbin is greatest base-stealer in Arizona Instructional League history. Try to contain your ecstasy.

Postscript: As hard as it is - (trying to feign hope) - at least the Yankees have a ballpark in Tampa. Tropicana Field, which was shredded by Hurricane Milton, won't be ready for the regular season, and the city of Tampa is balking at repair costs, since they're planning to replace the facility anyway. The most logical location: George M. Steinbrenner Field. The Yankees should trade the park for a 1B.   

Opinion journalism gets a new metaphor

According to Washington Post columnist Jennifer Rubin, "The New York Yankees’ disastrous fifth inning in Game 5 of the World Series was the perfect metaphor for... [a] series of blunders, missed opportunities and mental short-circuits that marked the last full week of the 2024 [Presidential] campaign." It's where the season landed us: our team is now a widely recognized symbol not of pride, not of power, not of legacy... but of error. If you're in a bar with a friend and they spill a whole beer, you can say "Smooth move, Judge" and they'll get it. "No rush, Rizzo," "Stay put, Cole," and "Nice throw, Volpe" could cover any number of hilarious situations. This is the meaning of "Yankees" now.

Do not go gentle into that good night, muthafuckahs.

 

Enough. 

Gentlemen, I could not agree more about how splendid it was to spend this season—like so many seasons—with all of you. And while I think it's good that we didn't give Hal Steinbrenner anymore money at the ballpark, I do regret that we never got together to at least watch a game in a bar. We can't let that happen again.

But...But...

For me, I'll sure as hell remember the 2024 World Series for a long time. I'm mad as hell about it—as your New York Yankees should have been, but showed no signs of so being, during that ridiculous, Game Five meltdown.

I detect, as well, a certain resignation, a certain acceptance stealing into our own fandom going forward.

Stop it. Stop it right now.

Yes, the Yankees should re-sign Cole. No, Anthony Rizzo, nice a guy though he is, should never be in a Yankees uniform again. 

The rest is fairly easy to figure. Put the kid, Rumfield, on first. Give him as long as we possibly can. If he fails completely, stick Ben Rice there again.

Give Gleyber his walking papers. Despite his improved postseason in the lead-off spot, he is never going to be an engaged or attentive ballplayer, much less a good one. (And no, I won't remember how carelessly he cost us Game One, either.) Since we're stuck with Mr. Histrionics, Jazz Chisholm, put him on second. 

Give the Oswaldii a shot at third—and also let them compete for Volpe's position. Bring up that Chaz Durbin guy, and let's see what he's got.

For the love of God, let Vertigo flop his way out of town. Put The Martian in center, and see what he can do. Bring up Spencer, too, and give him a good look. Sign every damned starter or reliever on the market, though the pickings are slim.

But above all...sign Juan Soto. 

I don't care what it costs. You can read the chart up there as well as I can. The Yankees have the money.  

In 2023, the Yanks had the highest reported revenue in the game, at $679 million. With their payroll of $316 million in 2024, they ranked only...18th in major-league baseball, in terms of revenue expended. 

Eighteenth.

Don't swallow any of the lies you're about to be fed. Don't listen when they tell you that Scott Boras is being unreasonable (This is what agents do: they support their clients.). Don't listen when Hal & Pal start to whine about the salary cap, or the whatzit tax, or the whosit tariff. 

Above all, pay no attention when they tell you that Jasson Dominguez, the player they intentionally did not bring up and develop this season because of what they might have to pay five years down the road, is the equal of Soto.

He is not. Maybe, someday, he will be. It's a consummation devoutly to be wished. But right now, The Martian is just a hope, a dream, a tiny red speck in the night sky. He is no more Soto's equal than Clint Frazier is. 

Don't be fooled. Don't settle—because with this couple of grifters atop the Yankees' organization, you will never again not be fooled, or forced to settle.

Soto, Soto, Soto. Even if it takes $700 mill for 12 years. Even if it takes...anything. The Dodgers just demonstrated how to defer salary and beat the cap. The Yankees don't have access to accountants?

Don't believe the hype—whatever it is. The Steinbrenner family is on their second, obscenely subsidized stadium. Some $1.2 billion in public monies for this one.

"Do not go gentle into that good night/ Old age should burn and rave at close of day," and even if the guy who wrote that managed to drink himself to death by 39—never mind. He was right. He saw it coming.

This is not the time to close our particular window. Not with Judge still raking in the bucks, and Cole, too. Not with no bloody chance of rebuilding with The Brain in charge. 

Soto. For a start. And we'll go from there. Maybe we'll even get out to Taxpayer Stadium again.

 

Post: Mortem

In 2001 the New York Giants were destroyed by the Baltimore Ravens in The Super Bowl. I don’t remember a lot about the game including the score, the quarterback, the head coach, or really anything about the team or the game other than I’m pretty sure something happened early that told me it was not going to go well.  

This World Series, should I live long enough, seems destined to go in that box.

This was a Yankee team that no fewer than three major columnists said and I semi-quote, “were bad  at baseball”. Bad. At. Base. Ball. Can’t hit situationally, can’t field, can’t run the bases, had no feel for the game… could hit for power. So basically, a one tool team. 

A team out matched, out managed, out general managed and out owned.

Do you want to know how bad this team was? 

No, I’m not going to tell you that they played .500 ball for months or that “they run the bases like drunks”. 

I’ll tell you how bad they were. 

We didn’t get together at the stadium to watch a game. And we like each other.

The thought that we should schlep to the stadium and give Hal a ton of money to watch this particular brand of baseball was anathema to us to the point that it overrode our friendship and sense of comradery, and never caught on.

Your 2024 Yankees ladies and gentlemen.

So where do we go from here as fans? 

As much as I protest, I'll read the off-season articles as much out of habit as anything else. Plus, I always find the off-season interesting. The “How would I fix it?” vs. "Whatever moronic choices will be made by the Yankee Braintrust."

I’ll still come back here and write and post because no matter how much the Yankees piss me off this place is an oasis of intelligence and there aren’t many left. After all, how many blogs offer a thread on when WW2 began? Much less, the day after our team gets eliminated in five games.

Bottom line is, I’m still a baseball fan. I’m still a Yankee fan. I have no choice.

For the record it was 34-7, Kerry Collins, Jim Fassel, and according to Wikipedia…

“Baltimore allowed only 152 yards of offense by New York (the third-lowest total ever in a Super Bowl), recorded 4 sacks, and forced five turnovers. All sixteen of the Giants' possessions ended with punts or interceptions, with the exception of the last one, which ended when time expired in the game. New York's lone touchdown, a 97-yard kickoff return, was quickly answered by Baltimore on an 84-yard touchdown return on the ensuing kickoff.”

I looked it up.

Rizzo. Cole. Weaver. Soto... the winter unbowelling has begun.

Forget global warming - the maps, the green screens, the cleavage: It's gonna be a hard, cold, brutal winter, and it launched Saturday, hours after Michael Myers Night on cable TV. Here's where everything stands, frozen in time... for now.

Anthony Rizzo. The Yanks declined his $17 million option for 2025. No shock pop-up, there. Certainly, clubhouse chemistry is nice. So buy a puppy. The Death Barge could bring Rizzo back, much more cheaply, but yeesh - guy's had two rotten seasons, back to back, and he just partnered with Gerrit Cole on the second most embarrassing defensive play in modern Yankee history. Donno who will play 1B. DJ LeMahieu? Oswaldo? Ben Rice? Your mom? There's a 24-year-old beanstalk in Scranton named TJ Rumfield: 6'5," lefty bat, great glove, hit .294 with 15 HRs last season. For unknown reasons, the Yankees don't seem interested. Hard to believe this guy couldn't beat Rizzo's output. But if they keep Rizzo, he'll suck up all the oxygen until he reaches the end of the line. The guy's 35 for Kricesake.  

Gerrit Cole. He's played the op-out card, becoming a free agent, momentarily. The Death Barge can override it by adding an extra year to his contract- making it five more seasons, at $180 million. I suspect they will, even if it means pissing away $40 million, give or take, through 2029. This is a reputation-saving move. The Yankees are coming off a postseason embarrassment. They'll soon lose Juan Soto. They must keep Cole, even if it's a questionable deal.

Luke Weaver. They played their one-year option on The Weave - best thing that happened to us in 2024. Not only was he heroic - answering Boone's call, night after night, when heavily overworked - but he could be a key to 2025. Question: Should the Yankees make him a starter? It's not crazy. It's what he's been most of his career. He could be their No 2, maybe burn 170 innings and save their bullpen. Wouldn't it be neat to have a bullpen? 

Juan Soto. The big footwear has yet to drop. He will soon declare free agency, maybe today, and the Yankees will hem and haw, shout and bluster, whinny and whine - and then finish first-runner up in the pageant. Simply stated, several owners want to win more than Food Stamps Hal. The Dodgers. The Mets. The Blue Jays. The Phillies. Some "Mystery Team." (There's always one.) Add Soto to those lineups, and those teams will explode. But if the Yankees somehow keep him, they could still be worse in 2025. Hate to say it, but I think he's gone.

Brrr. You can feel the chill already. 

Extra. Extra. Read all about it: The Dodgers' secret, surgical scouting report on Yankee weaknesses

This ultra-secret dossier - obtained at considerable expense by IT IS HIGH from overseas operatives - noted the following "golden shower" of Yankee weaknesses, to be exploited in the upcoming series. The agents scouts suggested that the Dodgers...

1. Concentrate on hitting lazy flies to CF Aaron Judge. They should be in front of him, well within range, and aimed directly at his glove. Try to hit the pocket.

2. Contrary to general wisdom, men on 2nd base should run to 3rd on a grounder to SS. Anthony Volpe can throw to 1st, 2nd and home. Throwing to 3rd, he is Chuck Knoblauch.

3. Hit slow, easy grounders to 1B, especially with runners on base. This "sweet spot" will baffle Anthony Rizzo and Gerrit Cole, who have no idea how to deal with such balls. 

4. Batters should stand deeper in the box to gain catcher interferences. 

5. Runners on 1st should attempt to draw three pickoff attempts. Important: The third attempt will be lobbed.  

6. Dodger pitchers don't need to throw strikes. Instead, pitches should be outside and in the dirt. Don't worry. Yankees will swing at them.

7. Only use Dodger pitchers who have had lousy seasons. The more disappointing, the better. 

8. Instruct right fielders not to chase fouls near the stands. They might lose a hand. 

Yankee fans are chewing an everything bagel of humiliation, and the bad taste is here to stay.

Damn. I keep spitting, drinking, puking... but this foul taste isn't going away. 

Not sure it ever will. 

I mean, when you talk Great Yankee Fiascos, you flash upon 2004 -still the gold standard for fan humiliation in American sports. The morning after Javier Vazquez delivered his generational meatball, I remember thinking that I could quit the Yankees, the team of my life, once and for all - so deeply ran my disillusionment. It took years to diminish - it has never ended, never will - but in 2009, with a new stadium and a seemingly committed new owner, I told myself that the universe had been reset, that the Yankees would return to greatness, that all was right - a belief that today seems laughable.  

The collapse of 2004 remains the greatest choke in sports history, courtesy of our mortal enemy. And it still defines the modern Yankees, increasingly more than our 27 championships, most of which came a billion years ago. But 20 years later, up until two days ago, we actually thought we were immune to such disasters - that we'd paid our existential dues, that we could never again stuffer such cruelty from the Fates. Even if the Yankees went out in four games, a horrible sweep, it would not rival 2004 for catastrophic pain. 

Well, they were not done with us. What else to say? Three ridiculous errors, a balk, a catcher's interference, a week's worth of RISPs, horrible manager decisions, pitchers who couldn't throw strikes, batters lunging at balls in the dirt, our opponents celebrating in our park... all in one night. An everything bagel of shit.

I dunno if I can do this anymore.

Next year, regardless of where Juan Soto goes, the Yankees will suck. Their core will be one year older, and, generally, three years past their sell-by dates. With the exception maybe of Luke Weaver, who deserved so much better, I don't care about seeing any of their faces again. 

Yeah, Soto is great. If all that matters to him is money - a point he's driven home all year - so long! If Gerrit Cole wants to exercise his free agency option - well, Yankee fan for life - so long.  Gleyber? Rizzo? Giancarlo? Anybody, if you think this fan will miss you, shoo, shoo, shoo...

The Yankees are going to suck, while they drain the great regular seasons from Aaron Judge, and bestow bloated contracts on the stars of 2020 and 2022. They are a detached, soul-less corporation run by a tightwad, country club billionaire and a GM whose job is to enable the owner's cheapness, while they piss away money like a tropical storm surge.

Next spring, when the YES barkers blather-up The Martian, or Volpe's newest approach to hitting, or whatever bullshit they've dredged from the sewers below Tampa and painted gleaming gold, why should we believe anything? 

Nope. I can't get this taste out of my mouth. Pttuuii.