Pride of the Yankees.

 

"Hal Steinbrenner really stepped up to find a way to retain Juan Soto, and I'm certainly proud of his efforts. Certainly went well beyond what I would have expected.

    —Brian Cashman

Once upon a time, the Pride of the Yankees was a man who, struck down in his prime by a cruel disease, still told the world that he was the luckiest man on the face of the earth.

Once upon a time, the Pride of the Yankees was Babe Ruth who, nearing the end of his own life at just 53, devoted himself to teaching the game to kids, and told a Stadium full of fans, through the rasping whisper of his own, cancer-filled throat, that it was the best game ever invented for boys.

Once upon a time, the Pride of the Yankees was Joe DiMaggio, who after being hung out to dry by another rich and callous man for the fans' consumption, nonetheless played the rest of his career with a rare fury.

Once upon a time, the Pride of the Yankees was Mickey Mantle, who may have played almost his entire career with an improperly repaired, torn ACL, and who used to twirl his kneecap around for the amusement of his teammates. Who nonetheless, when he was dying, shamefacedly told the kids not to be like him.

Once upon a time, the Pride of the Yankees was Derek Jeter, who stayed a Yankee despite having to put up with the public insults of as vacuous and insipid a character as Brian Cashman. Once it was Mariano Rivera, coming out of the bullpen night after night, with everything riding on his shoulders, stoic in defeat, grateful in victory.

Once upon a time, the Pride of the Yankees was Thurman Munson, and Reggie Jackson, and Bobby Murcer, and Yogi Berra, and Roger Maris, and Bernie Williams, and Dave Winfield, and the one-handed pitcher, Jim Abbott, who despite throwing a no-hitter still had to put up with the ridicule of another awful Steinbrenner.

The Pride of the Yankees has been many people, and many who cheered them on, right down to Freddie the Guy with the Frying Pan, who was at every game, and all the Bleacher Creatures calling out the roll call every night.

The Pride of the Yankees is not now and never has been an inheritance billionaire who did NOT spend a dime to bring back the greatest young player of his generation. 

"I'm certainly proud of him..."

WTF? As James, my Yankee fanatic Hollywood director friend said, "What, is Hal his three-year-old daughter who just finished second in a swimming contest?"

Indeed. And what the hell is wrong with a 58-year-old, multimillionaire executive, who still feels the need to publicly kiss his boss's ass at every opportunity?

Maybe it has something to do with how Cashman, yet again, had no idea of where the negotiations were as they came down to the wire—the same way he had no clue at the end of the Judge negotiations. Or maybe that was yet another Yankees farce, played out to hide the fact that Proud Hal never had the least intention of bringing Juan Soto back.

We may never know. But there is nothing, nothing at all to be "proud of" in how these two, self-involved jackasses have managed to wreck what was once the proudest franchise in all sports.