Dear Mr. Steinbrenner: You face a life-defining challenge. You must rise to it and save the Yankees, save the country, save New York, and save your name in history. You must sign Juan Soto.

Dear Mr. Steinbrenner, 

Have you listened to the Internet lately? They're snickering. They're whispering. They're saying the Mets will sign Juan Soto, that Steve Cohen will brazenly poach the Yankee star and steal his once-future plaque in Monument Park. They're suggesting secondary moves the Yankees can make after Soto is gone, even as those options disappear. (Last night, the Dodgers signed Blake Snell; there is no reason to think they've finished. They are, after all, the Dodgers.)

Sir, you have one pathway to success: You must sign Soto. You must stand up to the bully. You must hold the line. You must match whatever Cohen offers, no matter how uncomfortable you feel. There is no fallback plan. You must win this battle.

If you match the Mets, all things being equal, Soto will stay. 

If you match it, he will stay.

Sir, in everyone's life, there comes one destiny-defining decision. 

Do they run into the burning building, or spend the rest of their lives thinking about those who didn't make it out? 

Do they stand up to the bully, or spend the rest of their lives cowering in fear?

Do they fight to the end, or spend the rest of their lives trying to rewrite the excuses behind their surrender?

Sir, this is your crossroads. This is your decision, your moment. You cannot escape it. This will define you. It will show the world, once and for all, if the Yankees are still the New York Yankees. Or are they just-another floundering, failing NY team, one whose stars can be stolen by a rival. 

There is no Anthony Santander solution. There is no Plan B. Either re-sign Soto or consign the Yankees into the status of just-another-team. From the moment that Soto dons another team's cap, you will have squandered the once-greatest fan base in American sports. That will be your legacy. You will never escape it. You will be the owner who lost the Yankees.

It's like the song you play after every game: 

It's up to you... New York, New York.

Sir, this is it...