My Fragrant Martian: Another blunder dooms the Yankees

Welp, another loss to Boston.

A winnable game. A not-so-fearsome opponent. A lackluster effort (See Joggin' Jazz Chisolm.) A key defensive error. A stunning baserunning blunder - the greatest thus far in Jasson Dominguez' somnambulant career.

A grand moment, in case you missed it... 

Perched on 2B, amid a Yankee rally, seventh inning, game in the balance, the Martian forgot the 2-2 count on Trent Grisham. He thought Grisham fanned. (A reasonable assumption, considering his recent output.) He slumped. He stepped toward 3B. He scratched himself. He farted. He pondered the war in the Ukraine, the bombings between in Iran and Israel, the nationwide protests, the looming economic slowdown, the assassination in Minnesota, the happy birthday parade, the end of insurance-coverage for medical vaccines, the looming hurricane season, and the final episode of White Lotus, which he felt was too neatly wrapped up, but - hey - that's Hollywood. Again, he looked at the catcher. He sensed something wrong. He glanced at the SS, now standing on second base. He saw the catcher preparing to throw. He said to himself, "Uh oh. I should probably run toward a base." He glanced to heaven. He saw no evidence of God. This disheartened him, and he ever-so slightly crapped his pants. He started running toward third, saying to himself, "Run faster, darn it, faster." He watched the throw beat him by 10 feet. He said to himself, "Dive, and throw your hands toward the base." He dove and threw his hands toward the base. He felt the glove and ball on his forehead. 

He didn't bother to seek a video replay review. 

Welp... 

Fortunately, though, with the Gum-Slinger at the helm, Dominguez will face no consequences for his mistake. Yankees never do.  

Yep. It was an artistic, world class, what-me-worry botch job, the kind you don't often see above Little League. It goes down in the box score as a pickoff. But it wasn't really a pickoff. It was a nose pick. It was a failure by a team starting to creak at the edges.

Yankee fans can sense it. In recent years, we've learned the signs of collapse...  

It starts with Aaron Judge in a mini-slump, showing he is human. Nobody picks up the slack. They just wait for the batting order to turn, until he comes up again. The bullpen starts to groan. The starters get whacked. The Yankees botch a game. Then another. They somebody notices that they aren't so far ahead anymore.   

Welp, on May 28, we were up by 7 games in the AL East. The lead is now 4.5 games. Over the last 10, they are at .500. And they are 1-4 against Boston, whom they have personally escorted back to relevance.

The Martian came up in the ninth and lined a double down the left field line. He died there. I suppose all is forgiven. Welp... Isn't it always?