“Looks good! He feels good! He’s ready to go!” Boone gushed.
So be it. Step right up. Let the record show that - on Feb. 12, six weeks from liftoff - the most respected Yankee, who is not the Captain, looked "ready to go!" according to the franchise's version of Baghdad Bob. The question, though, is where?
On paper, LeMahieu sits atop an uninspiring pile of Yankee disappointments, who will battle for 3B, the lineup's worst eyesore. At 36, entering his 16th year in the majors, DJ will get first dibs on the position. All he needs to do is hit.
That's the key. Defensively, he's probably capable, though Oswaldo Cabrera might be the better glove, and both Oswald Peraza and Jorbit Vivas have more speed. In the meantime, three questions loom over LeMahieu.
1. Can he hit? Last year, he couldn't. He batted .204, no power, and - frankly - it seemed less a short term anomaly than a long term destiny. Since the Covid season, an outlier when he hit .364, he's regressed each year. He's at the bottom of the gorge. Scranton is not an option. There's nowhere else to go.
2. Can the Yankees justify his salary? The answer, of course, is no. The Yankees will pay him $15 million this year and next. After his big season, they gave him a stupid deal. Yank fans will forgive players, especially those like LeMahieu, who earn their respect. The question is whether the Yankee franchise will do it.
On that front, it's worth noting how the Yankees have openly dissed Marcus Stroman this winter, shopping him everywhere, because they overpaid him. Is that Stroman's fault? Should he give a discount, refuse to cash his paycheck? Wherever he goes, Stroman will want to stick it to the Yankees. If LeMahieu has a bad spring, will the Yankees seek to move him like a bad plate of clams?
3. Is there an exit ramp? Whenever a former great star heads to the bench, things can get dicey. Few will accept that their skills have eroded. They want one last chance. We went through it with Bernie. We went through it with Brett Gardner. It's hard to remember that Josh Donaldson had actually been a great player in Toronto and Oakland; all we recall is his hideous final season. Once the music stops, it's no fun watching old guys scramble for the last folding chair.
When a great player reaches his end - and they all do - there's that awkward point where he goes to the bench, never to return. It's like your mom going into a nursing home. The player demands an opportunity, or a trade, and everything devolves from there. The Yankees must tread carefully with LeMahieu, but Boone's delirious happy talk will not make the problem go away.
This year, the Yankees could face career twilights with several stars. If Giancarlo Stanton cannot run, as he couldn't last October, it remains to be seen if he should be out there. At 1B, Paul Goldschmidt must rebound from the worst season of his life. And LeMahieu, frankly, is a mystery. Boone says he is ready to go! Jeez, I sure hope so.
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We have three problems: Hal, Cash and Boone, that dastardly TV show country music trio. Solve those problems and we become the Yankees again. Don't figure it out and we are the Cubs or worse....maybe the Expos...
here is a poem for the day, a real one that banged into my inbox, to make you forget about DJ and has frozen nutsack:
# # # # #
Tomato Pies, 25 Cents
by Grace Cavalieri
Tomato pies are what we called them, those days
before Pizza came in,
at my Grandmother’s restaurant
in Trenton New Jersey.
My grandfather is rolling meatballs
in the back. He studied to be a priest in Sicily but
saved his sister Maggie from marrying a bad guy
by coming to America.
Uncle Joey is rolling dough and spooning sauce.
Uncle Joey is always scrubbed clean,
sobered up, in a white starched shirt after
cops delivered him home just hours before.
The waitresses are helping
themselves to handfuls of cash out of the drawer,
playing the numbers with Moon Mullins
and Shad, sent in from Broad Street. 1942,
tomato pies with cheese, 25 cents.
With anchovies, large, 50 cents.
A whole dinner is 60 cents (before 6 pm).
How the soldiers, bussed in from Fort Dix,
would stand outside all the way down Warren Street,
waiting for this new taste treat,
young guys in uniform
lined up and laughing, learning Italian,
before being shipped out to fight the last great war.
Looks good, feel good, ready to go...until he pulls a gonad...
🤮 He DOES NOT look good
😵💫 I DO NOT know how he actually feels
🥴 And I SINCERELY DOUBT that he’s ready to go for more than a few games before going directly to the trainer’s table.
I had no idea that anyone called pizza tomato pie in the old days, or that Uncle Joey could actually roll dough and spoon sauce when he was incredibly hungover. Those were the days.
As I’ve written, the point of these long term contracts is to spread the financial burden over several seasons to ameliorate the luxury tax hit. Problem is, when the player ages out, you are left with no choice but to release said player and accept the hit. The Yankees choose to keep sending out these players in the face of all logic, while their carnival barker manager squeals like a pig about how good the player looks. None of this is the player’s fault, since gracefully retiring would cost them many millions. So yes, DJLM is done, and yes, the team will trot him out there to the detriment of all. Also, he is blocking younger players who should be given the chance to play and develop.
Judge is turning 33 this year, Cole 35. Their time is coming up fast.
It’s later than you think.
I think if they tape up his legs like the Mick, add steel toes to his playing shoes, and give him a pair of glasses, he'll be fine.
And Stanton can't run, but I remember him stealing second. Wonder how that happened?
I keep mixing up Clayton Beeter with the late Cody Poteet. With Cody in the other league now and Clayton having injury troubles, this may or may not get better.
When you look at the ages and performance of many of these people, you -- if you are as old as I am -- start to remember 1964. The NYYs made it into a World Series that year (and Bob Gibson took care of them).
1964's 99-63 regular-season record was the best in baseball. The Cardinals were 93-69.
1965? The end result was 77-85.
Did I see the cliff coming? I was 11 years old in Feb65. So, no.
Do I see the end-of-the-world coming this year? No. But-
Would it surprise me, or any of those here?......
@ JM....In Jersey (and in the metro NY area), there was a difference between pizza and tomato pie. The latter was just dough and sauce, often sprinkled with grated cheese. Sometimes topped with tomato slices. Pizza, or as they call it up here in the New Haven area, Appiza ( ah-beetz), mozzarella cheese, and optional toppings were added. I'm sure that AA will verify that New Haven is the "Pizza Capitol of America." At least, that's the official proclamation by the state legislature. Oh, and that misogynistic, union-bashing blowhard, David Portnoy.
Thanks, Carl. This blog is very educational. I didn't know any of this.
Verified - although there is an Above Average Apizza less than two miles away from me here in this part of America
JM - have you left the Elonic States of America yet?
Really liked that. thank you.
AA - Amici's?
GREAT poem, Bitty! Thanks for that. Very evocative.
999, great point. As everyone else in baseball understands, it's a given in contracts of this length that the end years will probably be a waste. But...you gotta give them to compete.
What HAL and Cashie never seem able to do is...ANTICIPATE!
I was in favor of re-signing DJ even though I—like EVERYBODY ELSE—anticipated just this. What Cashie needed to do was either tell HAL, 'Look, we might get a few more years out of this guy, but the end of the contract will be gruesome,' OR, 'I got another guy lined up, in the minors or a trade. He might not be as good at first, but over the years, he'll be better and we'll save money.'
No could do. AGAIN. So we get the worst of both worlds. We get DJ paid not to go away, but to make us actively worse.
Joe FOB, one reason you didn't see 1965 coming was because the 1964 team wasn't really that old.
Yes, Ellie and Whitey were both 35. But for the rest: Peptone was 23, Richardson and Kubek both 28, Boyer 27, Tresh 25, Maris 29. Even the Mick was only 32 that season!
And the pitchers: Bouton 25, Downing 23, Stottlemyre 22, Terry 28, Sheldon and Stan Williams 27, Mikkelsen 24, Reniff and Stafford 25, Hamilton and Ramos 29.
By all rights, that team should have been at least a contender for several more years. Instead, there was a serious of devastating injuries (Howard, Kubek, Tresh, Maris, Bouton, Downing, and most of the pen), bad trades (Boyer and also Maris), and fait-based early retirement (Richardson, who quit at 30 to become a full-time minister).
But...that's why you overstock. Something that Brian Cashman never understood.
Are you talking about Beet Poteet or Cody Clayton?
no no no not Amici's
Yep, as I keep harping on the Yankees have developed at most a handful of decent or better players in twenty-five years. And Cashman's philosophy is to spend all the money on starting players and worry about injuries later. Which leads to burning up the farm by overpaying for bandaids. Doesn't he grasp that the Torre years featured a great bench? Or was he scarred by criticism early in his career that he did everything because an unlimited budget? It would seem so given his proclivity for bargain, trash bin players. He seems to be obsessed with being the smartest man in the room. He'll never be THAT man. Well, it DOES keep him employed given Hal's financial "needs".
Stocking was easy when salaries were in check and there was a reserve clause. Can't do that any longer because of salary tax aprons...
Ranger, that's true until you look at the Dodgers. I believe that they have thirteen starting pitchers. You know, just in case.
The Man of Glass can not run, but he still stole a base in the postseason. A great Yankee moment. DJ can not hit in the majors anymore. There's not way to make a great Yankee moment out of that. I hope DJ retires gracefully.
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