One swing of the bat would end the mockery. A solid, 30-degree launch angle. A high stride. You can do it. These things go for $88 on eBay. Just write out a check. Think of the moment, the sudden explosion, water spraying across the dugout, washing away the spittle, the sunflower seeds, the chewing gum, the stench of another loss.
O, Nameless Yankee firebrand, you can do this.
And you must. The owner won't. The manager won't. The captain won't. It's up to you. Don't throw a punch, unless you wanna become a punchline. Vengeance calls for a bat, a Louisville Slugger, an uppercut to the upper deck, a shattering of the silent bovine peace that has infected the clubhouse.
Does anybody know how to scream obscenities, to throw things, to jigger the dugout roof, a la Gardy? Because it's time to show a pulse.
Once again, last night, the Yankees lost in excruciating slow-motion, sinking without a bubble. No spark, no life, no fury, no nothing. Their two runs came from solo homers. Three hits, overall - the third being a botched bouncer by the Angels infield. Against a sorry pitching staff, the Yankees sent fly ball after fly ball to the warning track. Once again, with a game on the line, they couldn't execute a bunt. They lost to a sub-.500 team, which today goes for a four-game road sweep.
And nothing will change, because - hey - everybody's getting paid, and ticket sales are strong, and isn't that the modern Yankee metric for success?
Not long ago, our shortstop was being hyped as a generational Yankee star. We are watching him fall apart. At 24, Anthony Volpe has lived several lifetimes full of New York minutes. Last night might have been his worst game as a Yankee - (and that includes his part in last October's disastrous Game 5 Inning 5.) He botched a made-to-order DP grounder, allowing the eventual winning run to score. He went hitless, running his slump to 0-for-17. He finished the game, swinging through a fat pitch with a runner on first. He marched back to the dugout hearing boos.
They were being led by the water cooler. It was mocking Volpe, catcalling at the team, as the players gathered their belongings and headed to the postgame buffet. (Steamship round, maybe? Sushi? Meat-lover's pizza?) Nobody seemed to hear. Or maybe they didn't care.
In this millennium, the Yankees can be summed up in four words.
You cannot buy hunger.
Hey, maybe it's pepperoni, today? Make sure to save Big G an extra slice!
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9 comments:
With this team of underachievers, it'll be a swing and a miss.
True dat, Duque. You cannot buy hunger. Nor can anyone buy it for you. It must rise from within. We need real incentive-based contracts. We don't want them to starve, but we need to get them all to act like EVERY LAST FUCKING GAME IS IN THEIR WALK YEAR. that's the only time I ever see modern players - Judge aside - really hustle.
If you're looking for a big hit coming from the Yankees' clubhouse, always seek out the buffet.
Would love to see some righteous anger from…somebody. It should be Judge, or boone, but that’s the thing with vanilla. It often tastes better when you add more vibrant flavors to it.
Duque - Absolutely x100 and you chose the perfect satiric target/outlet in the water cooler.
Someone on the team needs to reset the tone, step up, and smash...
"Hey Mulligan Man! Mull this!"
It would be great to trade for some harder nosed ball players but it is tough to come into the middle of the season and be a hard ass before you've proven your worth.
That's why Paulie or Posada, Yankees who have proven themselves, should be on the bench as "Accountability Coaches"
At a minimum, prior to next season, Paulie, in his role of Spring Training Instructor, should teach the kids how to demolish a water cooler for maximum effect.
Are the Yankees doing a promotional night with water bottes? Maybe the fans could fungo them on to the field like with the Reggie Bars. Show em how it's done!
1pm start today, so it’ll get late even earlier.
Trying to beat the crazy thunderstorms that are supposedly rolling in. I'm hoping for a lightning strike that will destroy the entire Stadium. Yankees have to play the entire rest of the season on the road. With a built-in excuse, they will maybe relax, win a few games, even score a run.
Truth is, what we're seeing is just reverting to the mean, after a couple months of playing above their heads, getting teams at the right time, etc.
By any objective standard, this is not a good team. At catcher, Wells simply melted down the whole last half of 2024, and was awful in the playoffs, including a crucial mental error in the World Series. Goldschmidt is almost 38; gee, COULD we have got the last dregs of him these last two months?
DJ and "Big G" are already past those last dregs, and running on fumes. If not for the contracts, they would have been released years ago. Volpe, as we've discussed, is the New Gleyber. Jazz is a mediocre, histrionic player who gets hurt all the time—something Pal knew, but traded for him anyway.
Which leaves only the OF. Which has the potential to be outstanding, but where Boone has prevented even that by insisting on playing Grisham long after he reverted to where he almost always is as a player. Apart from that, Bellinger has been okay, and may be better as the season goes on, The Martian needs playing time, and Judge is Judge: amazing, and once again trying to do too much...
...The one wild card the Yanks MAY have in their favor is the pitching, which looks a lot better than they could reasonably have expected it to.
Yes, losing Cole was a big blow. But he's a pitcher who started only 17 games last season, and turns 35 this year. How much could we really have expected from him.
The rest of the staff, though, has been surprisingly strong—at least since the Airbender came around (we'll see how long THAT lasts). Good pitching can take you a looooong way. But...then you have to do the little things to push across runs, and win the close ones. Which is how the Yankees absolutely refuse to play.
This team was not constructed to win it all, it's not INstructed to win it all, and...won't win at all.
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