Gil time

 

RUNK BLOGG contunied... BOONE DERANGEMENT SYNDROME is a thing.

 Moment that happy-go-lucky Yank fan greets Field Marshall Boone.

RUNK GLOBG Continues: RESTORE THE YANKEE BEARD BAN!

 

Screw dis. Sick and tired. Last night, did anybody NOT think the Death Barge was gonna lose? Didn't matter that they tied the game. Not a whit. Once into overtime, it was over. Devin Williams, first pitch, straight to the backstop, letting the ghost runner take third - it was over. OVER! You knew. I knew. The Yankees knew. EVERYBODY KNEW...

Williams. Can't believe this guy. One of the most disappointing Yanks in modern history. 

We ditched Sonny Gray for less. 

For this guy, we dropped the Beard Ban? 

RESTORE THE YANKEE BEARD BAN, SHAVE HIM, THEN RELEASE HIM. 

We are on the verge of passing Cleveland, Texas, Cincy, and San Francisco in the Tankathon. One five game loss streak - and this team collects them like Beany Babies - and we could draft 13th (assuming we haven't lost our first pick due to the de facto payroll cap, so nothing matters, which about sums up the only world view we can adopt, right now, because the Yankees absolutely suck.)

The best the Yankees might do, in terms of tanking, is to overtake the Marlins and Cardinals, maybe in late September. They'll never break the top 10, even if our second half-record is among the worst. 

They won't fire Boone. They won't clip Cashman. They won't even take off his daughter's show. It's a family operation, and they're making money, reams of it, and it doesn't matter if the team loses, as long as it is competitive, and in an era of expanded playoffs, everybody can compete for the wild card, so here we are, watching games that we know we're gonna lose, and calling on a guy to give up another HR, somebody, shoot me, i kneed a drink... 

Game Dread ø8ø825 - √acillating whilst Masticating . . . .

 

WHAT DO I DO ?

WHAT SHOULD I CHEW ?

GUM THAT I BLEW ?

SEEDS THAT I SPEW ?

BOO-HOO-HOOEY

I'M SO DEWY

Fׂ ALL OF YOU'EY !

UHM, LIKE, YOU KNOW . . . .

YEAH !

RUNK LOG CONTINUED: Nothing happened last night.

 "If you don't play, you can't lose."

- Unknown - 

"I've got nothing to say but it's okay."

- The Beatles - 

I really hate these smug, stupid jerks

 

Yankees’ analytics wing overruled scout concerns in risky Jake Bird trade, reveals insider

NEW YORK — The New York Yankees’ trade deadline acquisition of reliever Jake Bird has become a textbook example of organizational overconfidence backfiring, with multiple industry sources confirming the team ignored widespread concerns about the pitcher’s deteriorating condition before completing the deal.

Bird lasted just five days in pinstripes before being optioned to Triple-A Scranton/Wilkes-Barre on Monday, following disastrous outings that directly contributed to two crushing defeats. The rapid demotion has validated warnings from approximately 20 teams that passed on Bird despite their own bullpen needs.

https://pinstripesnation.com/yankees-analytics-wing-overruled-scout-concerns-in-risky-jake-bird-trade-2025-07-08/

Cashman's asshole anal-ytic buddies are fucking terrible. All of baseball knew the truth except them. And Cashman. Unfuckingbelievable. Unfuckingforgivable.

Bird was overused early in the season. His arm was falling off. He actually had a worse July than the Yankees did.

But did that deter our intrepid statheads? Of course not. They're smarter than everybody else. Those "baseball guys" don't know shit.

Cashman? He traded away Riggio and Shields, our #10 and #20 prospects. Sure, you never know what will happen. But everyone in baseball knew that Bird was a mess you wouldn't trade a bag of peanuts for. Riggio looks great and would've been a welcome replacement for Chisholm at second. Shields definitely showed promise (like, we don't need young pitchers, they're just sacrificial lambs). (By the way, who did we give up for Chisholm? Oh, yeah. Serna, Abraham Ramirez, and AGUSTIN FUCKING RAMIREZ--while we stick with fucking Wells behind the plate.)

Any moderately involved owner would fire Cashman for the Bird and Chisholm trades alone, ransack the idiots in analytics, toss Boone out with the leftovers that have blue-green fur growing on them.

Hal? Oh, you kid.

What a remarkably arrogant, stupid, incompetent front office.

Fire Boone Night should be expanded to Fire Boone and Cashman and the Analytics Department Night.

We Won't Get Fooled Again!

We have a closer!!!! We won a game!!! 

We're still not okay!!!  

Not even close. 

Unless Boone is fired it doesn't move the needle at all. 

While many in the Yankee Universe collectively exhaled this AM, (Not any of us.) I came across this little tidbit during my AM perusal of the sports pages. It was in the NY Post and it should remind people that Boone needs to be gone ASAP.

“I said, ‘I’m going to take you out,’ ” Boone said. “He gave me a look like, ‘No you’re not.’ So I said, ‘You sure?’ He’s like, ‘Yeah, let’s go, I got this guy.’ ”

So, in other words, Boone was ready to take Bednar, an actual gamer, out with the bases loaded and the game on the line, and replace him with a fragile guy who has already blown FIVE saves this year...

Williams? No. Doval. That's right we have two of them. 

Here's what I wrote the other day in case anyone missed it. 

"A lot of people in NY like the Doval trade but living in Northern California I have access to a lot of friends/acquaintances/neighbors/fans on the street who are SF Giants fans and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM was glad to see him go.

The consensus is that he’s a "me first" baby with a lot of talent but can’t harness it and is prone to meltdowns. Maybe they can slip him the “supplement” that they give Rodon but apparently that wears off.

Also, after having a rough first outing, he threw his teammates under the bus. 

He was using a translator who altered what he said to make more palatable but, he said in Spanish something along the lines of his bad outing was due to “events outside his control” (Meaning the error) and didn’t take responsibility for the blown save. 

Don’t like him. Don’t like the trade."

In other words...

Yesterday Boone was going to blow the game. Bednar wouldn't let him. 

Good. 

We need a closer and even more, we need tough guys who can will the team to wins. 

But the Yankeeverse MUST keep their eyes on the prize. 

Boone must go.  

If he is fired and we are able to cling to a playoff spot with Bednar as the closer and relegating Williams to the position of "mop up man" then it truly could be "the crap shoot" that they have been selling as an excuse for not pursuing excellence. 

A weekend mauling by the Astros including a massive booing of Boone in front of a collection of Yankee legends hopefully will get it done. If not, August 12th is Fire Boone Night at the stadium. 

He's clinging to the edge. Bednar just gave him a hand. That's fine. Like I said above, we will need a real closer anyway, but the fans need to keep the pressure up and make sure Boone falls. 

RUNK Log continued: Yank victory brings instant gratification but long-term pain in Tankathon

 Holy crap. Jubilation! Joy! We won a game! Goldy came through! The bullpen held! We're still viable. 

One game up in the wild card! Hooray.

Yeah, that's sarcasm. You got a problem with that? 

The Yankees remain a mere 5-game losing streak from drafting in the Top 10 next June. Is that not a worthy goal? They can draft a 7-foot outfielder, or the ghost of Brien Taylor. 

Long night. Celebrated the win, channel hopping between Little League and A Star Is Born, with Judy Garland pumping up the jam. 

Strange. No hangover. Astros next. By next week, we could catch Cincy and Cleve. I need a drink.

Redsock fans arriving today. Need to hide.

Sniff

 

And now, the end is near

And so I face the final curtain

My friend, I'll say it clear

I'll state my case, of which I'm certain

I've lived a life that's full

I traveled each and every highway

And more, much more than this, I did it my way

 

Regrets, I've had a few

But then again, too few to mention

I did what I had to do

And saw it through without exemption

I planned each charted course

Each careful step along the byway

And more, much more than this, I did it my way

 

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew

When I bit off more than I could chew

But through it all, when there was doubt

I ate it up and spit it out

I faced it all and I stood tall and did it my way

 

I've loved,

I've laughed and cried

I've had my fill, my share of losing

And now, as tears subside

I find it all so amusing

To think I did all that

And may I say, not in a shy way

Oh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it my way

For what is a man, what has he got?

If not himself, then he has naught

To say the things he truly feels

And not the words of one who kneels

The record shows

I took the blows

        And did it my way

 

Game Dread - 8/6/25 AKA 86 - as in "to eject, remove, dismiss and/or throw out"

 

RUNK bLOG continues: Demented homeless man gone missing near Dust Bowl Texas backwater

 If you see this man, speaking gibberish, contact authorities. Do not engage. 

dRUNK bLOG Begins... Five, five, five in a row, do I hear a six, six, six? Go ahead, make my day...

Last night, I watched...

All of it. The whole shebang. The entire watermelon. The full Monty Python. The complete collection... 

Our hardest hit ball was courtesy of The Martian's iron glove: He clanked the ball against the left field wall, turning a catchable fly into a rally-commencing double. From there, it was all routine - walks and bloop singles, the standard-issue Yankee loss.

Every Yankee debacle defeat brings forth one such madcap moment, where the defense encounters a play that, at a major league level, simply must be made... and we blow it. They're not always listed as errors. They just kill us, that's all.  

So, are we at the point where Dominguez gets benched, so Giancarlo can play left field - as we chase the wild card - screwing up both players, and maybe the Maury Caballero, too? Savannah Bananas, that's what we are.

Another Devin Williams loss. For this, we scuttled the beard ban? Guy is killing us, so what does Cashman do? He trades for two more, just like him. Savannah Bananas.

The micro-mini man we traded last winter to get Williams, Tyler Durbin - of the first-place Milwaukee Brewers - is hitting .295 over last 30 days. He's up to .262 on the year. (Jazz holding at .243.) Shoot me.

Worst part of this collapse? It coincides with Boston rising. Redsocks waited, built a farm system, kept their prospects, and now they're rolling us over like a banana truck in the hills outside of Utica. My God, this is a dreadful year, and mark my words: The worst is still to come. I need a booster. Calgon Bath Oil Beads, drink me away.

We urgently need to get rid of the guy with no urgency

He keeps trotting out Volpe. He keeps thinking Williams is a closer. He keeps playing Wells (Cashman did trade away all of our really good catching prospects, so there's that). Rice is a better catcher, a better hitter, and can be an even better catcher if he gets to play there every day.

Bednar is the best guy Cashman got, and Boone doesn't turn to him when he needs him. That pretty much goes for Weaver, too. 

Bird got screwed. Because Boone blew the game with Williams. Bird shouldn't be in Scranton. He's not great, but he's serviceable. If used properly. Which Boone is incapable of doing. And Cashman gave up way too much for him.

McMahon is the second best--or maybe the best, we've yet to see--guy Cashman got.

Every player who's going to be a free agent at the end of the season has got to be counting the days before their escapes.

Judge, our beloved Captain, is still making excuses for Williams. Which is nice of him. And Williams' recent bad outings have really been caused by Boone's terrible managing.

Stanton is actually hitting. He didn't come through last night in his final at-bat, but he's been doing better than anyone else on this damned team. And I'd rather have him up in a crucial ninth-inning spot than Judge, to be honest. Because...you know. If Judge can't play the outfield, Stanton has to. It won't always be pretty, but without his bat, we're toast. And who knows if Judge can still hit with his injury? But yes, we can only hope so. Again, no other choice.

A few more losses this week and Tampa could pass us if they can put together a few wins.

Boone is an idiot.

Game Thread – ø8ø525 – 2øø3 – ALCS – ENJOY a little DOPAMINE !

 

The Results Are In!

While this blog lacks the resources of the New York Times and its infamous needle, the early returns on the trade deadline are in… time for a deep dive.

The Good

McMahon

So nice to see a third baseman who can really play the position. Even if his hitting reverts to the mean, give me a guy who takes away doubles all day.  Saves the pitchers, saves the pen, and it’s nice to see “Wow” plays.

The Good With a Caveat

Bednar

Bednar will eventually be our closer or, if the powers that be, or hopefully the powers that be-gone soon, let Weaver close, then he will be a solid set up man and we have him next year as well.

It would have been better the Yankees didn’t give up Rafael Flores. Not too sure Wells is going to be what we hoped and having a catcher who can really hit waiting in the wings seemed like a good idea.  

The Sure, Why Not?

Rosario 

Did we need another utility man? Also an 800 OPS does not a righty masher make. He does hit for contact.

Some guy for Peraza plus international bonus pool money.

Peraza was toast and who doesn’t like international bonus pool money?

Caballero for Pereira and a PTBNL and Cash.

At first I was really excited. Trading Cash! Then I realized they meant money. 

So close…

The Bad

Where to begin…

Doval

A lot of people in NY like the Doval trade but living in Northern California I have access to a lot of friends/acquaintances/neighbors/fans on the street who are SF Giants fans and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM was glad to see him go.

The consensus is that he’s a "me first" baby with a lot of talent but can’t harness it and is prone to meltdowns. Maybe they can slip him the “supplement” that they give Rodon but apparently that wears off.

Also, after having a rough first outing, he threw his teammates under the bus. 

He was using a translator who altered what he said to make more palatable but, he said in Spanish something along the lines of his bad outing was due to “events outside his control” (Meaning the error) and didn’t take responsibility for the blown save. 

Don’t like him. Don’t like the trade.

Jake Bird for Roc Riggio and Ben Shields. 

Seriously?  A flyer on a future lug nut who has already coughed up two games and is looking for a motel room in Scranton as we speak?  

Riggio can hit and play second and if you think Jazz is getting re-signed after next year, he’s not.  

First of all Jazz is going to spend most of next year recovering from surgery to remove Girardi’s foot from his ass.

Shields floor is Bird’s ceiling.  

How is Bird all they could have gotten for those two guys?

The Laughable

Austin Slater for… it doesn’t matter.

Even a bag of balls has more use than a guy who pulls a hammy in his first at bat.  His first at bat?  His. First. At. Bat.

Wow.  Just Wow.

The only saving grace is that he hurt himself before he hurt the team .

--

In Conclusion 

Maybe not the slam dunk, "Yankees win the trade deadline!" we were led to believe. 

 

 

An Above Average Haiku Tuesday – RISE and SHINE ! Edition

THE FUTURE IS BRIGHT

SMELL THAT BROOM, MANAGER BOONE

PEACE IS ON ITS WAY

2025 could go down as the greatest Yankee collapse of modern times. Is there anyone who can truly understand what is happening?

Barely into the dog daze of August, the 2025 Yankees have uncorked several essential questions on the eternal nature of good vs evil rancid. 

1. Is there a limit to how far a Yankee team can fall in one summer? 

No. See those floorboards? They're a hallucination. The elevator just keeps going down.  

In May, the Yankees opened a 7-game lead in the AL East and flirted with baseball's best record. Ever since, the have collectively re-enacted the self-immolating fates of drummers for Spinal Tap. Amazingly, the trade deadline seems to have done the impossible: It made matters worse. We traded a bunch of future prospects for - yikes - this? 

If the meltdown continues, we could be watching the greatest Yankee swoon in modern history. We are seeing a masterpiece being painted on the hull of a sinking ship.

2. Will anybody ever be held accountable for the longest Yankee championship drought in history?

No. 

Wait, I take it back. Yank fans will toss about derogatory words about Joey Gallo, Zolio Almonte and maybe Austin Slater (the newest Yank, who tweaked a hammy last night and is already out, a genius-level disappointment) and anybody else who - for personal reasons boosted from childhood traumas - happens to get remembered throughout the din. But Cooperstown Cashman is eternal and Ghislaine Boone surely owns incriminating photos, because both will return next year with a new crop of hyped rookies and former all-stars. 

3. Is there hope for this team?

No. 

Wait, I take it back. 

Look, we're crazy suckers for a Yankee victory. If the team wins tonight, we'll be gobbling in this space tomorrow, talking up Jazz and Gio, or whomever had the winning solo home run. (It's always a solo home run, right?) 

When Pavlov waves his meat, we burst into whistling kettles of fresh drool. But if the current malaise continue - and does anyone see a reason to think otherwise? - the Yankee summer of 2025 will go down as one of the most oppressively joyless periods in our lifetimes.

It's time to ponder - yes! - the Tankathon! 

We've always known - even if it was our best kept secret - that the country and the Yankees are inherently connected, and when one tanks, they both go under. So here we are, watching everything collapse, and dreading the eventual hurricane  - the big injury to a key player - to finish us off. 

Right how, the Yankees would draft 20th next summer - we're still far out of the first pick lottery. But I have faith in this team. The floorboards are not real. 

At the suggestion of AA (oh, and Williams is our closer)

 

Game Thread - Max, BooneBoone, Bochy and Jazz (say that seven times fast)

please, uhm, like, you know  . . .  don't look at me

 

From Austin Romine to Austin Wells, Yankees continue backwards death march to 2013

The 2013 Yankees got off to a roaring start: First place in the AL East, through May 26.

Led by sluggers Vernon Wells and Travis Hafner, and "Mr. Lifelong Yankee" the ever-hustling Robbie Cano, this plucky team was poised to make history, once Kevin Youkilis and Michael Pineda returned from the DL. And if youngster Zolio Almonte became the star we all expected him to be, the Yankees looked like a Thom McAn shoe-in for a postseason run. 

Yep. Close your eyes, and it's 2013... all over again. 

Government shutdown. New pope. Tornados, killer storms, partisan politics, Detroit, Snowden, Fox News, dogs and cats living together! And a glorious, magnificent Yankee meltdown - a lineup so disastrously beautiful that, 12 years later, we remain in awe. 

We're here again - a team built with frayed rubber bands, certain to snap, and to leave their fan base with the worst experience of all - of hopes shattered, of a franchise that not only falls apart, but which ends up with not even a top draft picks to show for it, and a season that cannot be forgotten, because we relive it, year after year...  

Yesterday's worst moment came not during the loss to Miami, but in the postgame show, when Hair Jell Jack Curry grumbled the news that Boston had won, plunging the Yankees deeper into the losing maelstrom. The Redsocks are a young, rising team - everything the Yankees are not. They could win it this year. Meanwhile, look - LOOK, DAMMIT, STEINBRENNER! DON'T AVERT YOUR BEADY LITTLE EYES! - look at the shoddiness of the last 15 years.  

2013... welcome back to Hell. 

Yankee fans deserve better. 

New York deserves better.

Warning: Wednesday begins my annual dRUNK bLOG, when I will be experiencing reality from the filter of a five-day drinking binge, surrounded by angry Yank fans and - yes - a few cynical dastardlys from Boston . I will post now and then, but they will be barely readable. Fortunately, IT IS HIGH's raft of Yankee inspirationalists and sayers of sooth will take over the helm. Godspeed John Glenn. 

 

Game Thread - August 3rd - "When your team is underwater - give the ball to the Gil Man"

 AN UMPIRE ?

A Glimmer of Hope

Everything El Duque wrote x 100. 

Yes, the storm clouds are a-comin but right behind them are rainbows.  

As the Yankees enter their third consecutive month of suck by... sucking, we have reached the point where pretty much every article in every paper and other places where sports are covered are FINALLY focusing on...

a) How poorly the team is constructed - They blame Brian .

and 

b) How bad they are at baseball fundamentals - They blame the organization in general and coaching in specific.

and

c) How they are not held to account -  They blame BOONE! 

Change is a-comin'.

Look, when A-Rod and Jeter start saying the above as they did on national television during  another of baseballs phony events, the Speedway Classic... 

WTF is that BTW? At least the Field of Dreams game was about a baseball movie! Auto racing doesn't even have a ball. 

Why not "Tin Cup"? They could take over Augusta or better and even easier,  PGA West -- it already has a stadium green...

Anyway...  When Jeter and A-Rod say what needs to be said before a big national game - - 

There are other team sports... Why don't they do the "Slap Shot" game and flood the infield and freeze it? Hilarity ensues. 

Hey, marketing studies about the Savannah Bananas prove that fans like a little slapstick with their baseball. 

Maybe that's why the Yankees run the bases like they do. 

For once they're ahead of the curve...  

The bottom line is that the Yankees are becoming a joke.

Consequently, Hal's whole marketing strategy falls apart, and while winning doesn't matter, positioning does. 

Well not on the field where infielders play outfield while outfielders play infield. However, in the marketplace, that's what's REALLY important. 

The Yankees are not elite. This team is not the continuation of the greatest franchise in MLB history. They suck and sooner or later people catch on to being gaslit.

Nobody want to wear a baseball cap that basically says, "I've been duped."  Right? Right? 

The light of truth is finally starting to shine.  

And if the light shines after the storm... you get rainbows. 

Kay: "To be brutally honest, you don’t know where it ends. Players’ fault, coaches’ fault, manager’s fault — but when it continues to happen, it’s not reflecting well on Boone."

When Boone is screaming at his coaches, it's over.

When the Yankees fall into third, it's over.

When Giancarlo starts shagging flies, it's over.

When sportswriters start reevaluating past Yankee trades, it's over.

When a Yankee manager has lost Michael Kay, it's over. 

Insert sigh here... 

There's a song by John Melencamp, that goes, "This may not be the end of the world, but you can see it from here." 

He should be a Yankee fan.

Honestly, it's too soon to pronounce a season as over. Remember Phil Linz and his harmonica? But maybe I'm not talking about the 2025 Yankees. I'm talking about the legacy, the mystique, the history that once made us the greatest sports team in the world. 

 

Our current descent into third traces back to the winter of 2017, right here in Miami. It began with the trade for Giancarlo Stanton's contract, a deal that has defined the Yankees for nearly a decade, just as our deadline moves this week will confine and cramp us into the distant future. 

Baseball is a young man's game, and we are always on the old side.

And trouble is coming. You can hear thunder in the distance. In a spate of recent meetings with teams, it's becoming clear that the Commissioner of Baseball and the players' union will go into nuclear war over the planned initiation of a payroll cap. This would enrich already infinitely wealthy owners - including the House of Steinbrenner - while destroying the Yankees. 

Let's face it: If we're spending $300 million for a third-place team, imagine where we'll be if payrolls are capped. 

So, yesterday, Michael Kay - the ultimate YES man - dropped a dime on Aaron Boone's management - or lack, thereof - of the Yankees. 

We are entering uncharted waters. See those storm clouds? They're coming our way.

We're number three! We're number three! We're number three! We're number three! We're number three!

 

In the works of more than one IIHer, why do we even bother?

Special Midnight Earthquake Yankees Emergency Post.

 

Ah, for the days when frustrated managers used to overturn the postgame buffet, take a bat to the water cooler, and curse out their wayward players to their faces! 

Instead, we are subjected to this sort of gobbledygook, after yet another brain fart on the field by a Yankee:

"It's a guy tryna make a play. I get it looks bad, and it's a bad play.  But, it's not a case of a guy that's, you know, doggin' it or, like it's...it's...you know.  Uh, just tryna make a play. And, you know, just because it's going bad right now, and the world's on fire, I'm not just gonna take guys out for giving a crap. 

"You're gonna make some mistakes on the bases. I would argue with you that we're not making, in compared to the league, a number of outs advancing or outs on the base. I don't think that's, that's true. I'll, I'll dig into it some more, I looked into it a few weeks ago. But, when you're the New York Yankees and you're losin', and you make a mistake...Look what just happened. I can show you around the league, it happened all the time. Doesn't make it okay. 

"We wanna be as clean and as perfect as we can be. Without question. Don't, don't get it twisted. Don't think, 'Oh, yeah, it's fine.' We have to be better. Don't get it twisted. Okay? We have really good players. We have a really good team. We haven't realized our potential yet. We gotta get there. We gotta couple months to do it yet. We better hurry."

All of that delivered, of course, with the quavering voice of an opera diva, or maybe Gladys Knight singing, "Midnight Train to Georgia."  

It was yet another Yankees press conference dedicated to telling us things nobody asked and nobody wants to know. 

Has Aaron Boone actually spent time digging into statistics on how many mistakes other American League teams make compared to the Yankees? Is he actually promising to do it again, and share the results with us?

It may be that the demise of any great institution is signaled when it starts comparing itself to others. The New York Yankees were always supposed to be themselves alone, a towering, formidable monolith of success that stands above and apart from all other teams. 

Now they're down to wondering whether they make more or fewer boneheaded, base-running mistakes than other American League squads. Really?

What rankles even more is the constant lying and gaslighting, as many here have noted. Boone is really going to try to pretend that Jazz Chisholm was just trying a little too hard to make a play that would turn things around? 

Chisholm is a histrionic but mediocre player who we acquired for a budding young catcher (hey, could we use one of those?), and despite his record of constant injuries and erratic play. Yesterday, he was not trying to, say, score from second on a single that was maybe hit just a little too hard, or to steal third when he didn't really need to.

The truth is that he lost track of how far he was from the bag on a routine pop-up to second, and got thrown out diving back to first. It was a very alert play by Miami's Xavier Edwards, a young slap hitter with all of 192 games in the majors. Edwards was maximizing his chances of staying in the majors despite limited talent. 

Chisholm was doing no such thing. Neither was Austin Wells the other day. Playing on a team where no one is ever held accountable, they simply fell asleep during one more ballgame.

They are joined on this team by the likes of the Yankees' "ace," Max Fried, who is guaranteed to miss several starts every year with blisters that somehow cannot be healed, and their number two starter, such a mountain of maturity that he flipped off a couple of fans who dared to boo the great man after yet another dismal, disinterested start.

Most annoying of all, though, is Boone's flippant remark that "the world's on fire." He means the Yankees, of course, but the greater world, outside of the narrow cocoon of privilege and luxury in which he and all major-league players, managers, and top executives dwell, really is on fire. 

There is a terrible war going on in Ukraine, and a terrible war going on in Gaza, and a runaway president who is systematically taking apart our nation, and a Supreme Court that keeps ruling that laws don't really mean anything, and a warming planet that seems ready to melt us all like so many birthday candles. 

The last thing that those of us who turn to the Yankees for relief and distraction is to hear a manager having a hissy fit because he doesn't dare call out his malingering players. Or an organization that constantly sells itself on its winning legacy telling us, hey, we're not so bad compared to some other guys.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled tremor.

 

The THREAD - 08º02º25 – The SCHLITTLER continues to hit the FAN (s)

 me wonders what kind of magic they have in store for us today . . . ?

Cashman Rolls Snake Eyes

 Every single move Cashman made on the deadly deadline came back to bite him in the gonads.

Not a decent play by a single player, of four called upon, to help put out the fire in the kitchen.

Lost it all on one roll. 

Might as well extend his contract now.

Wait a minute. What happened to that joyous tsunami of praise for the Yankees' trade deadline makeover?

WTF? Where are the balloons, the banners, the floats...? 

It's barely 24 hours since the Yankees were universally christened (by their own house media) - as The Team That Won the 2025 Trade Deadline (TM), prompting happy fans to stakeout our turf on the Canyon of Heroes. 

Where'd everybody go? What happened to the crowds, to the keepsake bobbleheads and whoopie cushions, the fart simulators of hope that come with every deadline deal, year after year, as our time in Purgatory clicks ever onward. What happind? 

Well, I'll tell you: The Death Barge just ejaculated its worst game since - well, not that long ago, actually, I'm thinking of Gerrit "The Pointer Sister" Cole choosing not to cover first. Last night, they bundled six months of hubris into one incredible Barbra-and-Liza-Evening-at Carnegie Hall of unstepped-on, felony-grade hubris.  

Look... let's not recap the game. Life is too short. But I'd like to ponder the chirping voices of Gotham who - year after year, deal after deal - celebrate every Yankee deadline trade with the kind of groveling gush-work that Laura Loomer bestows upon Baby Fingers. Every traded prospect was never part of our long-term plan. And every former all-star we acquired is a steal akin to Peter Minuit's purchase of Manhattan. Every year, August 2 is YANKEE STEAL DAY in America.

Friday morning, the Yankees were printing playoff tickets and celebrating their greatest bullpen since the days of Mariano and Ramiro Mendoza. 

Today, they're staggering from an Olympian loss, christened by a walk-off dribbler from - checks notes - somebody named Augustin Ramirez. 

Wait. That name is sorta familiar. Sherman, set the WayBack to 2024. Yes, now I remember: 

He's the 23-year-old catcher the Yankees traded to Miami last year for Home Run Derby legend Jazz Chisholm. And I'm not trying to muck up the waters here; I suppose most Yank fans would instinctively still make that trade, as Chisholm is one of our all-stars. But let's just say that - maybe - some of the final precincts haven't yet finished voting. 

Ramirez has 15 HRs and is hitting .240; Chisholm sits at has 18 and .244. Ramirez will be paid $657,846 this year, and he's under Marlins contract through 2027. By God, he's a cheap date. Chisholm makes $5.8 million will head to full arbitration this winter, his walk season. So, was it a good trade? Sure, though I wonder: Are we still in love with Austin Wells? I'd never suggest the Yankees lost in the deal, only that the slam dunks aren't always so certain. Maybe we should wait a year or two before judging the great victories of our front office? 

Awww, but that's now how they do things in New York. Right? It's always NOW, right now!  

Two days ago, Yank fans celebrated a great victory, stealing two closers, a bullpen lug nut and the world's greatest base stealer - and all for some no-name prospects (and Oswald Peraza.)  

The great Dinah Washington once sang, "What a difference a day makes?" She musta beena Yankee fan. 

And I wonder: When Cooperstown Cashman eventually goes into the Hall of Fame, should he wear a Marlins cap?