End 'o' Swoon - Game Thread - Bird is the Word

A Modest Proposal.

This Swiftian suggestion was inspired by the graphics work of the estimable Above Average, see above (and not average!).

Ah, isn't that a consummation devoutly to be wished? For Prince Hal to sell the team!

But we must always be careful what we wish for. The last time a Steinbrenner seriously considered selling your New York Yankees, we narrowly missed seeing them peddled off to...the Dolans.  There's no reason to think we'd do much better today.

Therefore, my proposal is: up the competition. Invite the Wandering Athletics to come to New York.

Hey, our current, Democratic mayoral hopeful, The Zohran, is currently pushing the idea of cheap, government-run grocery stores. I say, why not a ballteam run by the people, for the people? 

After all their years in the desert of inland California, do we really think the A's are going to end up in their Las Vegas dome, which will hold all of 33,000 despairing gamblers, already Stripped of their life savings? Anyway the time they get there, the whole Sodom & Gomorrah is likely to be a gigantic mound of sand.

I say we invite them to New York. We already have a small, minor-league stadium available for their use, have had it ever since the Yanks blew off the beautiful little park we built, gratis, for their Single-A team in Staten Island.  It could be expanded easily enough, giving the fans a breathtaking view of the Statue of Liberty, and New York Harbor.

It would be the first time that Staten Island, "the Jersey Borough," would have a major-league team since the Giants camped there, while throwing up a new Polo Grounds in Harlem. The first time  a major-league team would play a whole season there since the original, New York Met (no s), in 1886-1887.  

Think of the fun we could have with The People's Team! 

No seats over $20 a game. Thousands of seats always available, day of game. Luxury boxes? Sure, a few—but ALL would be assigned, every game, by the results of a lottery. 

For that matter, have you noticed that, bizarrely enough, the Yankees run their very own lottery, each game at the Stadium? The People's Team could do the same, upping funding for the New York Athletics (or "Pizza Rats'?). 

Or hell, congestion pricing is supposed to raise $1 billion a year.  That's all earmarked for our subways, I know. But if Mamdani is REALLY going to put the mentally ill homeless below ground and offer free buses, who's going to ride the subway? We can pour all our money into the A's. Let New Jersey fund our ballteam! 

And/or, we have all games broadcast on new, WNYC radio and television channels, with all monies going to the public coffers. 

Our new, publicly owned ball club would spend to win, year in and year out. The fans will flock there, even if it is Staten Island.  

How about free ferry service, with each ticket purchased? (What the 19th-century owner of the Original Met, who owned the ferry, too, used to offer.) Just sell alcohol aboard, and make it the Party Boat. (Did I hear you say go-go dancers on the Party Boat? Well, why not? No strippers, please, we want a family atmosphere.)

Hell, for that matter, we could put the tower of the Empire State Building to its original purpose, and have some lucky fans (more lottery winners), sail by blimp to the park (weather conditions allowing). Sure, every now and then, one might topple off the gangplank and plunge to 33rd Street. Okay, we'll give them all parachutes.

Best of all, the other teams here in Loser City would have to seriously up their game. Even the non-baseball teams would be terrified that we would do that same thing with football, basketball, and hockey teams. Instead of Loser City, we could have a new golden age of New York sports!

All we have to do is dream it...

+ (FAR) ABOVE AVERAGE

 

The Yankees cross the border, looking to place tariffs on the Blue Jays. Ten takeaways.

 Tonight, the Death Barge hits Toronto - the cultural capital of Canada and astral twin of Buffalo - in a nation seething with hatred, simply because our Dear Leader graciously offered it a chance to become a northern version of Florida. (We'd marvel over the exploits of "Canada Man.") 

Normally - with the exception of Boston - I don't rank on opposing cities, especially when the Yankees visit. Why overturn the spittoon? Besides, Canada is trying to shake its shameful inability to capture Bigfoot, which remains at large, eating berries, shitting in the woods and cavorting - the life that should be ours. 

While the Yankees brace for next weekend's Subway Series, the Blue Jays - six down in the loss column - need a sweep. Meanwhile, hateful Tampa stands to gain the most, as they entertain the Formerly of Oakland A's. 

Ten ponderings... 

1. Jazz Chisholm Jr. belongs in NY. Everyone can see it. His personality was made for Gotham. And he's got three months to make his case. Right now, he's doing it. Over the last 30 days, he's hitting .316 with 6 HRs and lifted a rather meager BA - below .200 when he tweaked a tit - to .242. (Over his career, he's at .248.)   

2. Tonight, Toronto dredges up the 40-year-old reanimated corpse/war horse known as Max Scherzer. He's sorta like Snake Plissken, in that I thought he was dead. He hasn't pitched well. He's past prime and coming off another injury. Still, he's the type of pitcher who escapes jams, and the Yankees are the type of team that doesn't deliver with RISP. Bevare.  

3. Cooperstown Cashman is waiting - grinning, chuckling, cackling - as he pushes pins into the dolls of MLB starting catchers. Soon, some contending team's backstop will squeeze a boil and miss a month, forcing that team to seek a replacement. We have three LH catchers - Ben Rice, Austin Wells and JC Escara - one too many. Each can help some team in desperate need. We have a huge trade surplus. Cashman is waiting...

4. Over the last few weeks, I cannot shed a sense that something has happened to the balls. They simply are not traveling as far as they did in April. I know, I know... this is soooo subjective. But you see blasts off Yankee bats - opposing hitters, too - and they are gone - but then die at the warning track. Is it the humidity? Swirling winds? Dunno. But with every long out, the Yankees' solo-HR offense is laid more bare. 

5. A gold star sticker for Marcus Stroman! If he can pitch the second half, with some modicum of his past, the Yankees do not need to trade for a starting pitcher next month. With Stoman, Ryan Yarbrough and Luis Gil, we should be okay. That's a massive advantage.  We can concentrate on an IF and the bullpen. Huge difference. If it lasts.

6. Anthony Volpe is struggling. Over the last 30 days, he's hitting .198. He's 2 for 5 in stolen base attempts. Most of all, he's made grievous errors in big moments. I'm starting to worry. We all should. The Yankees will stick with Volpe - he's young and he's a leader - but he's surely looking over his shoulder at George Lombard Jr., now in Double A. Next March, there will be a chorus of fans wanting Lombard, much like the chorus that two years ago called for Volpe.  

7. Over the last 30 days, Paul Goldschmidt is hitting .138. Two HRs. His OPS is awful - .449. He still carries the style and grace of a potential Hall of Fame slugger, and his defense is solid. But he's coming off a down season, and the numbers look grim. 

8. Speaking of grim... Giancarlo Stanton. In the past, he always looked smug, supremely confident. Lately, he looks worried. Clearly, the double-elbow thing has him nervous. Guy really needs a HR.  

9. Over the last 30 days, Will Warren has fanned more batters than any other Yankee starter. Yep, more than Max Fried.

10. Let me say it: Yankee pitching coach Matt Blake might just be the best in the game. 

Game Dread - SwøøN 29th - Strowman Returns !

OH - WAIT A SECOND - YOU MEAN ITS STROMAN AND NOT STROWMAN . . . ?!?

By tonight, the Yankees' lead in the AL East might be gone. Ten takeaways of existential dread.

 1. Eventually, he'll pull out of it. But right now, I dread seeing Aaron Boone come up with the bases loaded.  

2. Eventually, I think he'll pull out of it. But right now, I dread seeing Giancarlo Stanton come up with runners on base.

3. One of these days, I hope he'll pull out of it. But right now, I dread seeing DJ LeMahieu come up.

4. Every time a Yankee batter is called upon to advance a runner, I dread what will happen.

5. Today, Marcus Stroman will start. I dread seeing him.

6. Next weekend, we face the Mets. They are mired in a slump, as Boston was two weeks ago. I dread what's coming.  

7. In 30 days, the front office will blow up this team with trades. I dread what's coming.

8. The country is on the verge of cutting health care for millions of people. I dread what's coming. 

9. Whenever I see Aaron Boone, I fill with dread.   

10. Everything, everywhere, everybody... I dread what's coming. 

Think they heard the news?

 

A month out from the trade deadline, the Yankees have the pleasant problem of too many catchers

Soon, the annual Cooperstown Cashman Trade Deadline Demolition Derby will begin, with the esteemed Yankee GM - (and father of Gracie) - spackling our roster with veterans who - we will be assured - will blossom in the fertile, low-stress soils of NYC.

And I will scream.

I, sadly, stem from the foul and outdated Yankee fan strain known as "Prospect Huggers." For some reason - maybe Fred McGriff, Jay Buhner, Doug Drabek? - we oppose the strategy of trading young players on the way up for old players on the way down. 

I realize that the world has changed since 1999, we dealt Mike Lowell to the Marlins for next to nothing. Deadline deals are part of the modern landscape. I just get a nervous twitch around July 25, when the Yankee prospects that have been touted for the last three years are suddenly traded to Pittsburgh, and we are told they were never really part of "the plan" (which later turns out to be no plan.) 

Maybe it's wrong to blame Brian Cashman, who - fun fact, is actual an A.I. manifestation - for everything. Actually, in recent years, he's been less likely to empty the farm. (I think he knows a Buhner-level fiasco will be etched onto his eventual plaque in Monument Park.) We're still getting over Joey Gallo and the Jordan Montgomery giveaway.  

Anyway, a roster overhaul is coming. The Yankees need:

1. A solid 2B. (Or a 3B, allowing Jazz Chisholm Jr. to move.) The D.J. LeMahieu experiment is running its course. Unless he starts hitting - (right now, .243 and 2 HRs aren't cutting it) - LeMahieu is looking his age. (36.) Moreover, he looks tired. Last night, a grounder bounced past his diving glove, and it was not an error - just a play he always used to make. LeMahieu can help us as a utility infielder. I don't think he can hold up through September. I mean, two HRs? 

2. A starter. Sunday, the Yankees will try Marcus Stroman, in the magically thinking  hope that he's still got gas in the tank. He got walloped in the minors during his brief rehab. I suspect Stroman will end up in the bullpen. And, basically, Sunday's game is a bullpen start. He probably won't throw more than 50 pitches. (In other words, two innings?) 

3. Bullpen. Just like every team in baseball.

This week, Spencer Jones - the 6'7" outfielder and first round pick, unfortunately saddled with constant comparisons to Aaron Judge -  was promoted to Scranton, where he homered in his first at bat. (The next Aaron Judge!) Jones was leading the Eastern League in HRs, with 18, but he strikes out way too much. (70 times in 240 ABs at Double A.) Will Cashman trade him? I hope not. I'm hugging with all my might.

Instead, they have an excess of rather young, LH catchers with power: Ben Rice (who caught last night), Austin Wells and J.C. Escara. One of them can go - and certainly not cheaply. 

Last year, at the deadline, the Yankees obtained: 

Reliever Mark Leiter Jr. from the Cubs for Benjamin Cowles and Jack Neely. Cowles, a 25-year-old 3B, is hitting .215 with 4 HRs at Triple A. Neely, 25, also in Triple A, has an ERA of 6.91. Leiter is a bullpen lug nut. Nice trade. No complaints.

3B Jazz Chisholm Jr. from Miami for Augustin Ramirez (age 23, hitting .247 with 12 HRs for Miami), Jared Serna (23, hitting .215 with 1 HR at Double A) and Abrahan Ramirez (20, hitting .243 with 0 HRs in the Rookie Single A.) Chisholm is still a mystery, and this trade still is, like him, an uncertainty. 

Enyel De Los Santos and RHP Thomas Balboni Jr. from Padres for OF Brandon Lockridge. The Yankees waived De Los Santos three weeks later. Balboni - 24, a great Yankee name - seems to have disappeared from the fossil record. Lockridge, 28, has hit .216 for San Diego. This is a wash, though I like having another Balboni.

Pitcher Kelly Austin from Pittsburgh for LHP Caleb Ferguson. Austin, 24, has 3.19 ERA at Somerset. Ferguson, 28, has been decent with Pittsburgh, with a 2.91 ERA over 30 bullpen innings. We could use him. 

Not much to say. Considering how 2024 ended, we were probably always fated to be disappointed. But the changes are coming. Don't get comfy. July is almost here.

(Final note: I can't let the occasion go by without congratulating Jeff and Lauren Bezos on their marriage. Both are big readers of the blog. In fact, Lauren has been commenting under the name "Doug K" for several years.)

Game Thread - Here's an idea for a future promotional give-away . . .

 

Deja vu, all over again? Staggering and distressed, the Yankees enter their most dangerous part of the season.

Last year, as they hit the all-star break, the Yankees self-destructed like a Cuomo. 

After leading the AL East for most of three months, they had fallen into 2nd place, and now faced a huge, three-game series in Baltimore. They won the first two - brutal battles, with bean balls and a near brawl. Then, in game three, down by two in the 9th, Ben Rice belted a dramatic 3-run HR. It was glorious. It was destiny. It would send them to the break in first, with hopes restored. This was why we became Yank fans!   

Clay Holmes came out to nail it down. 

(Note: You might want to send children out of the room, as the following report contains images that some readers will find to be troubling.) 

Holmes gave up a single, then coaxed a force out at second. 

He walked a batter, fanned one, then walked another. 

Bases loaded. Two outs.

Ryan Mountcastle hit a routine grounder to SS Anthony Volpe. Across the Yankiverse, we raised our glasses in triumph. All he needed to do was flip the ball to Gleyber Torres for the force. 

But he didn't. 

The ball bounced off Volpe's mitt. He couldn't recover. A run scored. Bases still loaded. An untimely error, the kind that still haunts Yank fans... and Volpe.

At that point, though, LF Alex Verdugo took over. He achieved what would become his signature Yankee moment: "the face plant." Cedric Mullens hit a line drive at Verdugo. He charged it, stopped, turned, froze, then made an adorable, Benny Hill-quality belly-flop into the ground. The O's circled the bases, celebrated at home plate, and nothing more would foreshadow the Yankees' end of 2025 - the disastrous World Series 5th game 5th inning. 

It was our doomsday entrance to the all-star break - and our destiny.

Well, we're almost here, a year later. And while the YES team matter-of-factly watches the slide, and while other fans see a first place team, Yankee fans have every reason to position our finger on the panic button. 

Who can dispel the notion that nothing - NOTHING - has changed?

The Yankees are falling. They've led the division all season, but the lead is down to one, and it's easy to see them hit the all-star break in 2nd. The next three weeks are a mine field:

Three against Oakland - (yeah, they're still Oakland) - a trap series if ever there was one. 

Four games against hateful Toronto, which has been closing on us for a month. 

The Subway Series, in this case, the War of the Disappointments. And Clay Holmes might throw out the opening pitch. 

Visits from Seattle, which hates us, and the Cubs, including the extremely ill-timed Billy Joel Bobblehead Night. (WTF? Are they really going to go through with that?)

There's always a danger in proclaiming how the next game is critical. Of course it is. The next game is always the most important of the season. That's how baseball works. 

But dammit, we have eyes, and we can see what's happening. This team is drifting along the same disastrous path as last year. In the end, it's the fundamental flaws that we never address... they're going to kill us once again. Deja vu, all over?

The Yankees are riding a statistical roller coaster, but one player remains a rock. (And he is not Aaron Judge.)

I hereby challenge baseball's sexless, tech-necked, ketamine-infused wonks - who have a stat for everything - to gin up some new digital comparisons. 

For example: I wanna know...

1. Who leads MLB hitters in unchecked swings - that is, pitches that are ruled strikes by the generally half-asleep ump, standing 100-feet away, down the baseline, and who is most susceptible to play to the home crowd?  These calls cannot be challenged, and they should be prorated according to home and visiting teams. (Recently, one such call cost the Yankees a no-hitter.)  

My guess: The leader in disputed, unchecked swings that "cross the plain of the plate" - whatever that means - would be Anthony Volpe. 

Go ahead, wonks, do your thing; prove me wrong.  

2. Who becomes baseball's most dangerous hitter after the previous batter has just clubbed a HR of more than 450 feet. Along with the tape-measure blast distance, this stat would compare each hitter's normal OPS with his output following the long-distance bomb. We would know what hitter is most likely to take advantage of a pitcher's likely frustration, and go for the kill. 

My guess: Anthony Volpe. 

3. What infielder is most likely to botch both ends of one play - that is, to mishandle the grounder and then - adding shit-icing to the cake -fling it into the stands. Often, these calls are reduced to one error, even though the fielder deserves two. Also, my stat must include a judgement of each throw to first, taking into account the first-baseman's ability to snare the ball rather than advance the runner. The Yankees have one of the best firstbasemen in baseball - in Paul Goldschmidt. 

My guess, for the leader in multiple botches? You guessed it. Anthony Volpe.

I don't mean to rip on Volpe, who remains a Yankee conundrum. He has reached the point of diminished career expectations - no longer a future perennial star, and instead of being the next Derek Jeter, he's probably more a bridge to George Lombard Jr. He plays hard, never misses a game, hustles his ass off, but remains sadly stuck at .230. Right now, we have no Plan B at SS. (Oswald is a disappointment, Oswaldo is gone.) But we wonder: Is Volpe the starting SS for a championship team? 

If anybody's got a stat to answer that question, I'm listening...  

4. Here's a Volpe-free request: Who is baseball's best pitcher in games after his team has lost? I'm sure somebody at YES has a number. I'm predicting Max Fried, who currently stands as the AL's runner-up in ERA - by 0.04 of an earned run. (Note: Fried has pitched 18 innings more than the leader, Hunter Brown.) He should start for the AL in the All-Star Game, though in the name of Atlee Hammaker (seven earned runs in two-thirds of an inning, including a grand slam to Fred Lynn, in 1983, and a miserable career ever after) I hope he sits out the all-star break with a cold. 

In theory, the Yankees could supply three starters to the AL squad: Fried, Carlos Rodon and Clarke Schmidt. Let's not. Who's got the numbers? 

Raffle excitement for today

 

My wife has been sleeping until at least noon every day. I have a freelance project that I'm getting nowhere with (or with which I'm getting nowhere). If we only had the money, we could move back to New York. Then again, my wife's new cancer treatment starts next week, so we should stay here and see how that goes. I guess. I'm not sure even she is convinced of that. And I suppose the money we have is enough to move back. We freely admit, we don't know what the hell we're doing. So I suppose we'll stick it out for a few months and see.

 

At least the Yankees won last night. It was something nice to see when I got up today. But I'm going to miss Doug K, though I can't blame him.

 

I'm discovering that Bette Davis was absolutely correct. Gettin' old ain't for sissies. Unless I win the million-pound home, then I'll price it to sell and get out of here.

 

That should work as well as my other schemes have. Probably a scam of some sort.

 

Boone is an idiot. See you later. 

 

Game Thread 0six•25•25 - We are ALL Fried

 

See Ya!

I had the game on yesterday and right in the middle, as if in a trance, I got up, grabbed a lawn chair, and went outside to enjoy the onset of the delta breeze.

I ended up watching my neighbors hose down their driveway. Not sure why they did that but it seemed very important to them.  

It was far more entertaining. 

When I finally picked the game back up after the sun went down I just kept hitting fast forward until I got to the final score. Took me less than three minutes. 

I didn't care if they won or lost much less how it happened. That was a first for me.  

Truth is, I'm pretty much done with this team. Life is too short.  

--

I'll still read the blog if only to marvel at our collective ability to say the same things in infinitely creative ways. I mean that. This blog is far more entertaining than the team itself. 

And, I guess I'll wean myself from the team by watching the MLB condensed game the next morning because I've always got seven minutes for pretty much anything, even a YouTube video on, "How to Make No Ingredient Bread." or "Things to Buy at Trader Joes in July!"

Both more entertaining and beneficial than watching the Yankees BTW. 

Bonus: The "How to Grow Potatoes in a Box!" video actually worked! Taters!

---

But I digress. 

Look, I'm sorry. I just can't do it anymore. 

Mostly, I'm sorry that Yankee ownership is so clueless and holds our fandom in such low regard that not even the opportunity to watch the best player I have seen in a lifetime of watching baseball, Aaron Judge, is enough to hold my interest. 

I'm tired of losing. Not the games per se, the Yankees win more than enough. They are not a "losing team", well, not until October anyway.  

I'm just tired of watching a team that doesn't will its way to wins. I'm tired of watching them make the same mistakes over and over and over. Listless and lifeless. They play like they are as bored as we are. 

El Duque pointed out the solo HR problem, others the lack of situational awareness. Why we should put up with any Mark Leiter Jr. appearance or any decisions made by an algorithm as opposed to what's actually taking place on the field is beyond me.  

And Then There's Boone.  

A failed sitcom name if I ever heard one. 

Maybe Gracie Cashman can play his daughter. 

Spoiler Alert, at the end of Season One she becomes engaged to Anthony Volpe and sets the wedding date for the middle of the playoffs. Hilarity ensues!

"Daaaaad you know you're going to lose in the first round anyway!"

--

I wish the Yankees the best. I wish all of you the best. We all deserve better.  

Perhaps I'll be back. 

It once took me five years to truly break up with a girlfriend. But eventually, break up we did. 

This feels like that. 

The Yankees' once great season has withered down to an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm, and Aaron Boone deserves an Emmy.

The comedic template behind Curb Your Enthusiasm - the great "let's-laugh-at-the-boomer" comedy from Larry David - hinges on the beginning and ending of each episode. 

It starts with Larry bestriding his world of status and acclaim like a self-anointed colossus. It ends with him standing in a parking lot, being yelled at by - well - everybody. 

We can relate. We've been there. It's a pretty... pretty... pretty... perfect parable for modern life, the rise and fall of everyone. In recent years, it has come to mirror David's favorite team - the Yankees, of course: 

So... here we are: One measly, stinking game ahead in the AL East, plummeting in YES-Mo into a wild card race that, barely a month ago, seemed like a joke. 

On May 28, the Yankees led their knock-kneed division by seven games, and only the Tigers - a team that would surely wilt - stood between them and home field advantage through October. Yank fans could savor history's greatest hitter, perhaps the league's Cy Young pitcher, and the game's best bullpen. How could we end up being yelled at?

I believe the answer stems from the under-appreciated comedic genius of Aaron Boone. The man is a master of physical humor and sight gags. He deserves an Emmy or - better - a Nobel prize. Last night, there he was, looping his long arms like Art Carney, trying to separate an enraged Jazz Chisholm from the home plate umpire. He looked like Lucy over the chocolates, simultaneously trying to berate the ump and calm his player, as the game slid away. Masterful.  

Of course, it failed. Chisholm got booted, Boone nearly followed, and the Yankees ended up losing in 11 with five infielders, including a LF at 2B and a catcher playing 3B. Together, they watched a blooper fall. 

Cringe comedy gold. And it always requires the protagonist to fall ingloriously from his summit of hubris and self-appreciation. Night after night, the Yankees are perfecting this.  

Their remarkable offense - the Solo Homer Attack - is a work of art. Last night, Ben Rice hit a massive blast - nobody on, of course - and then they were done. Their "offense" came from a misplayed fly ball that turned into a triple, and a wild pitch with a runner on third. Aside from Rice's shot, nobody drove in a run with an actual well-barreled hit. 

I believe we are starting to see the 2025 Yankees for what they are. This is not the power team of the AL. It's a team that strikes out 12 times per game, a team that cannot hold leads, a team full of injuries, past and future, a team in - as Larry David would say - is in a pretty.... pretty... pretty.,.. deep freefall. 

An Above Average Haiku Tuesday - - - BOY the TORPEDOS ! Edition

   THE SWOON CONTINUES . . .

   LOSING THEIR SHOES AND THEIR BATS

   WHILST WE LOSE OUR MINDS !

Yankees celebrate the year of the solo home run.

 

People say I'm spoiled, that I should be ashamed of myself... 

"You root for a team that always contends. They're always in the race. Look at the Royals. Look at the Pirates. A Diamondbacks fan would be delighted to be in first, but you're pissed. Ingrate! Thankless prat! Ungracious churl!"

They're right. I'm a churl. Last night in Cincy, Aaron Judge gave Yank fans everywhere a belly rub - a mammoth first-inning HR that's gotta be worth a week of Rockies' highlights. So, why, why, why are we so snippy?

Well, I'd submit this reason: 

We know what's coming.

Last night, as I suspect you've heard, the Death Barge went 0-for-12 with RISP, and stranded eight runners. After Judge's solo shot, the closest they came was a HR robbery off the bat of Paul Goldschmidt. It was a signature, standard, stock-issued Yankee loss, straight from the template of Boone the Gummer.  

We still lead the AL East, though it's down to two. And let's not kid ourselves. This is not a team that wins big games against tough opponents. The great Yankee teams of the 1990s featured lineups full of grinders. This is a team of flailers. 

Nobody bunts. Nobody sacrifices. Nobody moves up a runner. Everybody swings for the western horizon, and when they step into one, they jog the bases alone. This is a team that shuts down against great good decent mediocre pitchers. When you hear they scored five runs, you wonder, who hit the five homers? 

Next month, as he does every summer, Cooperstown Cashman will remake the roster. He'll trade prospects for a underachieving veteran on a bloated contract. The Gammonites and YES sirs will react as they always do - committing fully to the gaslight. The Yankees will go down to the last days of September because - well - everybody does. And if they reach October, they will run into superior pitching and, kaboom, they will shut down. 

The Yankees believe that, if they make the playoffs, anything can happen. And to make the playoffs, all they have to do is hit a bunch of solo HRs. 

That why this movie gets replayed every summer. Last night was no outlier. It was a glimpse into the future. 

Game Thread - Cin•City - 06/23/25 - Marge and Sweet Lou !

 Seems like they enjoyed a very close relationship . . . 😂 

Allan Winans is set to pitch tonight! Ten fun factoids about the Koufax of Scranton

Kong v Godzilla. Ali v Frazier. Winans v Lodolo. (As in Nick.) 

That's tonight's matchup against the Cincy Reds. Thanks to a right oblique strain to Ryan Yarbrough - (et tu, juju gods?) - the Yankee pitching grinder today will promote RH starter Allan Winans from The Electric City (aka Scranton), where he has been unstoppable. 

This could answer - definitively, in the year of 2025 - whether excelling at Triple A matters one stinking whit. Because Winans deserves the call. 

Winans, pushing 30, has been spectacular in the Anthracite Capital. Over 9 starts, he has posted an 0.90 ERA. - giving up only 5 earned runs. 

Is he our fifth man? Can he succeed in the majors? Who is the real Allan Winans?

Some fans will tell you there's nothing exciting about a guy like Winans. They come, they fill a roster for a week, and they disappear. Parts Unknown. Well, I disagree. 

Here are Ten Fun and Interesting Factoids about our newest Yankee!

1. In two years of MLB time, over 40 innings with Atlanta, Allan has a 7.20 ERA. 

2. In his major league career, he has one win. 

3. He hails from Bakersfield, California. 

4. If he makes it big, he'll join Sigrid Valdis as one of the most famous natives of Bakersfield. 

5. Sigrid played "Hilda," Colonel Klink's sexy secretary, on Hogan's Heroes. (See right.)

6. Her real name was Patricia Annette Olson, which sounds a lot more like Bakersfield.

7. In 1970, she married series star Bob Crane on the set of the TV show. Co-star and future game show host Richard Dawson served as best man. 

8.  In 1978, Crane was bludgeoned to death in Scottsdale, Arizona; his murder remains unsolved.  

9. Patricia/Sigrid moved to LA and died in 2007 due to lung cancer. 

10. In 50 innings at Scranton, Winans had 59 Ks!

Back From Paradise.

 

Dear Peons,

What can I tell you? I thought the lobster tails were fine, as always. Also the shrimp and the crab claws. But the prime rib slices? They were beyond compare! Truly wonderful. I only wish all of you could have been there. Maybe next time, some of you could carry my Sedan chair.

Sadly, all of the above was true. Except for the Sedan chair, of course. You actually have to walk into the Legends Suite, if you can believe the effrontery. And the "peons" part. Alas, we are almost all of us peons in this America of runaway wealth. 

Weirdly enough, thanks to the beneficence of my friend and my brother-in-law—and to the beneficence of their banker—it was the least money I've spent at a ballgame in decades, not drinking anything alcoholic. All of $10, spent solely on a program the size of the old Montgomery Ward catalogues, if anyone remembers those.

Which recorded an often frustrating but ultimately rewarding game, as you saw. Judge—who, yes, was that close to our seats—continued to flounder (Does anyone know why he didn't go home on that flyball? Was it the coach who held him?). Good as the pitching was, big hits were few and far between.

And then...an unexpected hero arose, from where you would never expect to find him.

I'm talking about Gary Sánchez, of course. Once he entered the game, victory was assured.

—Did Ma Boone again try to squeeze one out too many from his fading starter, only to see him give up a leadoff double? AGAIN? No matter. The next batter was Gary Sanchez, who struck out on three pitches.

—Did Ma Boone insist on running his stupid, run-on-contact play with Jazz Chisholm on third and the whole infield in? AGAIN? No matter. The throw beat Chisholm, but Gary Sanchez dropped the ball. 

—Did The Airbender look a little shaky? No matter. Gary Sanchez was there to strike out AGAIN in the ninth.

Hey, I kid, I kid. The real hero, of course, was Jazz Chisholm...who took out the Orioles' starting catcher, and forced the entrance of...

Never mind. 

Jazz really did have a wonderful game. And hey, props to Boone for greenlighting him and turning the whole game around (just as I assured my friend's daughter that Chisholm would surely be taking on 3-0). 

Good for Boone. Good for Jasrado. 

But thank goodness that Gary Sanchez was there!

 

Game Thread - Pre-Noon, on the 22nd of Swoon - Look into the eyes of a Master

 

Energized by Old George, the Rays just keep creeping closer

Home  attendance 2025

 George M. Steinbrenner Field has an official capacity of 11,026, making it one of MLB's largest spring training facilities. It's a perfect facsimile of the old Yankee Stadium, built down to the foul poles to resemble the original House That Ruth Built.  

Last year, the Tampa Rays drew an average of 16,515 fans per home game at the ridiculous and now decapitated Tropicana Field. The few who attended games rattled around a domed stadium that could handle up to 45,369, but usually left entire sections empty. Jeez. A paying fan could spread out, put his feet up, occupy a whole row. 

This year, with the Trop out of commission - Hurricane Milton tore its roof to shreds last October - the Rays are playing before a packed stadium - Steinbrenner Field - drawing an average 9,832 per game. That's nearly a sellout. 

The city has balked on building a new stadium, because nobody came to the old one. The franchise might be sold to a Jacksonville billionaire - (they're all billionaires, these days.) Nobody really knows the fate of the team. 

But one thing seems clear. 

They are gaining on us.

The Yankees have nearly squandered the seven-game lead they held on May 28. In the month of June, they are 9-10. They lead the AL in attendance - 1.6 million fans, thus far - but, damn, they cannot seem to shake Tampa. And soon, the Rays will start experiencing what few Tampa ballclubs have ever known: Sellouts.

 We next play Tampa on July 28. They have a 21-year-old 3B, Junior Caminero, who has 18 HRs. The have a utility infielder who leads the AL in stolen bases. Their starting rotation is all in their mid-20s. In the month of June, they are 13-6.

The Yankees outspend them. The Yankees outdraw them. The Yankees out-hype them. But the Yankees cannot seem to shake them. 

Sometimes, you have to simply sit back and reflect upon the crazy world that has somehow come to be. Donald Trump is president. We're in a war. And the next World Series could be played before a crowd of 11,000 in a stadium named for Old George. 

It could happen. 

Is that weird, or what?

Why Donaldson sucked

 An article in the Times explains it all (quite a bit down on the home page, what with the Iran bombing and all...though there's not a peep about Bibi laughing and saying, "Sucker!"):

"Mr. Donaldson said that his wife and daughter had both developed congestion and a lingering cough while living in the home. Environmental testing uncovered what the lawsuit described as extensive and widespread infestation of Chaetomium mold and Aspergillus mold throughout several key rooms in the house. 

"Mr. Donaldson also complained that the main floor of the house was infested with ants and that squirrels had infiltrated the home through a hole in an exterior wall, and had been living in a bedroom ceiling. Some showers did not work, and the pool was littered with shards of tile and concrete from a botched repair job, the lawsuit said.

"When the landlord sent workers to the home to deal with the issues, they disrupted Mr. Donaldson’s sleep, according to lawsuit, which noted the importance of rest to a professional athlete."

 

Yeah, but aside from that...

Game Thread - The 21st of Swoon - Boone's Line-Up Machine Revealed !

 

0-for-24 with fielding and baserunning gaffes, Anthony Volpe faces the Babadook. (Or is it Roger Repoz?)

Remember Roger Repoz? Big, strapping outfielder. Came up in 1965. Hit 12 dingers. Had the "R-R" alliteration thing. Plus the "Roger" thing. Everybody knew his destiny. He was the next Mick.

Eventually, Repoz hit 82 HRs and carved out a somewhat successful career in California and then Japan. But his name endures. And whenever a Yankee prospect gets anointed as the "next" Catfish, or Goose, or Reggie, or whatever - the next somebody - the silent presence of Roger Repoz stalks our world. 

Because it's it's starting to define Anthony Volpe. 

Ever since that afternoon in 2023 - "Volpening Day," when the Yankees made the former first-round pick their starting SS - an invisible cloud has loomed. 

The Next Jeter. 

That year, age 22, he played 159 games. Like Jeter. In 2024, he made it 160. Like Jeter. As a rookie, he hit 21 HRs. In year two, he revised his swing and raised his BA 35 points. He won a Gold Glove. He became the infield lodestone. Everything pointed to a great career. A son of Jersey. The signature number 11. He was the future, and 2025 would be his launching pad. 

Welp, maybe not. Lately, when Volpe steps to the plate, you feel the weight  of a thousand million disappointments. Over the last week, he is 0-for-24, and there is not a rally he cannot kill. His botched DP grounder cost us a game against the miserable Angels. His attempted steal of 3B helped blow one against Boston. Last night, time and again, he came up with a chance to effectively win the game. He always failed.

His average has fallen to .228. You wonder how much farther it will plummet. Almost worse, as a sign of his desperation, Volpe has stolen 8 bases and been thrown out 7 times. That's terrible.  

The wandering eyes of the Yankiverse - always lighting upon The Next Big Thing - may be shifting. In Double A Somerset, another former first-round pick, George Lombard Jr., has become the new hope. 

Lombard - the lone Yankee prospect on most Top 100 lists - tore up high Single A, batting .329, before being promoted. At Somerset, over 40 games, he's hitting a meager .213. But there are signs. Three nights ago, after making a dazzling defensive play from short left field - the announcer invoked Jeter - Lombard hit his 2nd HR. He is a hitting streak away from becoming the Next Yankee Hope.

Listen: There will be no next Jeter. There was never a next Mickey, or a next Yogi, or a next Mariano. There will never be another Judge. Great stars don't clone well. But their enduring presence can chew up a young player. And maybe Volpe's time will come in another city, where he can just be himself. Repoz found himself with the Angels and the Yakult Swallows. Sad, in a way. Victorious, in another. 

Longest Day game thread