The deal for a Triple A prospect may signal that Brian Cashman is done chasing big names and has turned to minutiae

Hot scoop: Yesterday, the Yankees obtained from the Cubs a 23-year-old, skinny-as-Cher, bearded-and-bejeweled righty prospect named Michael Arias. They gave up "cash considerations," the Mallo Cup coupons of MLB. The Cubs DFA'ed Arias and faced losing him to waivers. The Yankees sprinkled just enough coinage to leapfrog the list and claim Arias, the Cubs' 18th ranked prospect, for those of you who are scoring at home. Yeahp. Hot scoop. 

At 6'0 and 155 pounds, Arias brings the physical presence of William H. Macy, but he has a live arm - lots of Ks and Ws, and a Colter Beanian ERA of 4.77. He originally was signed by the Blue Jays as an infielder, but didn't hit. The Cubs made him a relief pitcher, and he shot through the system - up to Triple A last summer. There, he got whacked, mostly due to the walks. Can Yank coaches can straighten him out? Dunno.  

Frankly, this is the kind of subatomic-level move that a Hal-fearing Yankee blog should ignore. The fact that I'm writing about Michael Arias means that I'm not bellowing about the need for the Yankees to stoke the bids for Alex Bregman, or to sign a second baseman. Instead, we're wasting valuable bile, and it doesn't grow on trees, people. 

Raising our blood pressures into the 300s, as he kowtows to Hal's frugality, is Brian Cashman's real mission in life. I'd like to believe we will live forever, buttressed by the rain of disappointments we face each day. We grew up thinking the Yankees would be the one team that never failed us. Now, with Hal seated atop the shit pile, they do just that - every day. 

So, instead of screaming for justice, we're supposed to discuss whether Michael Arias will find the strike zone? Spoiler alert: Nobody knows.

But but BUT... scrap heap acquisitions long ago became Cashman's secret power. When he signs an "ace," the guy turns out to be Javier Vasquez. (Good luck, Max Fried.) But in the recycling bins, he finds Luke Weaver, Ian Hamilton, Clay Holmes, Jake Cousins. Give the guy credit. He knows how to work a flea market. 

So... Arias?  At 23, he's the youngest pitcher on the Yankee 40-man. Same age as Volpe, one year older than the Martian. Last year, despite the walks, he rose to Triple A. Another lottery ticket? Another Cashman Cutie? Another day closer to pitchers and catchers. The big wheel turns. Are we on it, or under it?

"Down in Kokomo..."

 

I have to head up to Massachusetts for a few days, but I just thought I’d leave you this bit of song stealing to sum up our off-season. To the tune of the Beach Boys’ “Kokomo”:

 

Juan Soto

A no-go

He’s rushing off to Flushing

Sasaki, named Roki

He’s another “No, ’kay?”

Kyle Tucker

No luck there,

He would cost some money

Oh, honey

It’s all goin’ to go

To Hal in Kokomo.

 

Paul Goldschmidt

He’s OLD!  Shit!

Alex Bregman?

The dregs, man

And he’s not coming.

Arenado?

A shadow 

Of what he used to be, man

But still not for us, damn!

Every cent’s got to go

To Hal in Kokomo!

 

Burnes

We yearns

To see him pitch here

Alonso, the P. Bear

We won’t see him near here.

Need a closer?

Not Tanner

’Cause he ain’t scot free.

Marcus Stroman

A roamin’ 

To bring us Brooks Raley

(Oh, really?)

No, it’s gotta flow

To Hal in Kokomo

 

Cashie,

Talks trashie

But he thinks like Lassie

Boonie,

A loony

Bringin’ in that Nestor

That Series

Will fester

But not with Randy

And Lon—no trostie

With whom we are all lostie,

All loved by Hal

Down in Kokomo.

 

Holes at second

And third

And there is no catcher

Volpe just can’t mature

We need more pitching

Less bitching

About the Benjamins, Hal.

But we know

Where you want it go

Down to your yacht…

In Kokomo…

And you, like that. Thanks, Brian Wilson

As a failsafe fallback, Yankees sign "Doomsday Dom" Smith. Let's hope we never have to see him.

Monday night - amid the excuse-making, after Roki Sasaki announced that he shall not play in rude, grimy, indecent NYC - the Yankees signed 29-year-old Dom Smith, a former-future Mets star and the newest omen of our looming apocalypse.

Basically, if the Yankees need Smith in 2025, they'll be in trouble.

A 2013 1st-round pick, Smith peaked in 2020 - the Covid summer of cardboard fans and piped-in crowd noise - when he hit .314 with 10 HRs. Ever since the vaccines, it's been downhill. These days, he's thicker at the hips - pushing 230 and capable of launching long homers, just not enough of them. 

Having signed him to a minor league deal, the Yankees can argue - hey, ya never know!  Not much downside to adding a Scranton lug nut. Smith can play 1B or 3B in a pinch, though therein lies the problem. 

If Smith ends up getting - say - 300 at bats, it means: 

1. Paul Goldschmidt's one-year deal turned out to be a bridge too far. Over the years, the Yankees have aligned themselves with several twilight stars - Youkilis, Tulowitzki, et all. Nobody knows if Goldschmidt, at 37, can hit, field or stay healthy. If an old gonad tweaks, or if the B.A. can't crack .190, Smith would get the call. 

2. Giancarlo Stanton misses a sizeable portion of the season. Actually, there is no "if" here: He will miss a sizeable portion of the season. He always does. The guy is made of glass. So when Stanton tweaks himself, Smith will get a shot at DH, maybe as a lefty platoon. 

3. Somebody - the Martian, Rice, Wells, Jazz, whomever plays 2B - fizzles, and the Yankees desperately need a LH hitter. Smith might bring a boost. He could be this year's Matt Carpenter - or its Willie Calhoun - until Cashman inevitably trades prospects for another bowser.  

Listen: There are late-bloomers who - pushing 30 - suddenly figure out the MLB curveball that has mystified them for years. Anything can happen. Maybe he's the next Jose Bautista. Kiss enough frogs, and maybe you get a prince. Just be prepared for an occasional wart. And if Smith is hitting fourth, logging ABs and lavish praise from the YES men...  uh-oh...

An Above Average Haiku Tuesday ~ Cashman, Cashman, Cashman . . . edition!

NEVER, EVER SAY HIS NAME THREE TIMES IN A ROW OUT LOUD !

 

The Curse of Igawa? Why can't the Yankees sign Asian stars?

As Yogi Shogun would say, it's deja vu sayonara , all over again. 

Once again, the Yankees have finished "also-competed" in the bidding war for a Japanese star, the kind of international player who led us to our last world championship, 16 years ago and counting. 

That golden October, 2009, Hideki Matsui won World Series MVP, and the future looked like a pipeline of Asian talent that would restore the iconic New York Yankees to their rightful status as Planet Earth's baseball team.

Well, so much for that. Yesterday - as usual -the Yankees whiffed on another Asian star, pitcher Roki Sasaki, the lone remaining free agent who could make a difference in 2025. (To counter Sasaki's announcement, the Yankees unveiled the signing of - drum roll, gasp - Dom Smith! a 29 year-old brake pad, who hit .233 with 6 HRs last year.) By whiffing on Sasaki, the Death Barge kept alive its Asian losing streak, failing again on to acquire international talent that populates the upper tier of MLB's power structure. 

The Yankees - like their NFL brothers, the Football Giants - seem to prefer a romanticized fantasy of clean-shaven suburbanites - Harrison Bader, Anthony Volpe, Cody Bellinger, Gerrit Cole - who, by way of White Plains, return to lead their boyhood idols down the Canyon of Heroes.

Over the last 10 years, the Yankees have signed one Japanese star, Masahiro Tanaka, who pitched several seasons with a partially torn ligament and never once embarrassed himself, even when the team around him fell apart. You'd think their experience with Tanaka would have convinced the Brain Trust to throw themselves at other Japanese stars. In fact, they have wined and dined a few, unsuccessfully. The players simply did not want to play in New York for the Yankees. So, as Shogun would say, What is the Fuck?

Before Tanaka, the Yankees' Japanese stars were: 

Hideki Irabu, 1997-1999. Aka the "Fat Toad," according to Old George. Sad story. Years later, guy killed himself.  

Ichiro Sazuki, 2012-2014. Came as a shadow of his former greatness. Played on lousy teams.

Hiroki Kuroda, 2012-2014. Pitched well, like Ichiro, in lean Yankee years. 

And the Babadook - Kei Igawa. 

I cannot escape a sense that we are still paying for Igawa, who pitched for the Yankees in 2007 and 2008, and whose contract made him into Hal Steinbrenner's personal whipping mule. Igawa never pitched well for the Yankees. In 2008, his last MLB season, he started one game, gave up six runs on 11 hits in three innings and was promptly banished to Scranton. Forever.  

Two things I loved about Igawa:

1. He lived in NYC and chartered a limo to and from Scranton on nights when he was scheduled to pitch in Triple A. At one point, Brian Cashman - on a scouting trip - was passed by Igawa's limo on Interstate-80. Wish I were there for that.

2. Over his career, Igawa always seemed to pitch better at night. So, his solution? During day games, he pitched with sunglasses.   

Here's what's really weird: Igawa became a Scranton mainstay. On July 27, 2009, in a 2-1 victory over the Columbus Clippers, he set the all-time Scranton franchise record for career wins. But the Yankees refused to promote him - even when they desperately needed pitching - and when Cashman twice tried to trade Igawa to a Japanese team, he used his contract to nix the deal. In the end, Igawa played out his bloated Yankee contract with the Railriders for three more years, retiring from MLB in 2011. He then pitched two more seasons in Japan, hanging it up in 2014.

You gotta wonder: When we ask why the Yankees have failed so miserably in recruiting Japanese stars - Ohtani, Yamamoto, and now Sasaki - could they be paying the price for being so petty in their treatment of Igawa?

Roki is a No-kee.

Roki Sasaki, the last free agent who could have made a difference, won't be signing with the Yankees. 

Oh, well. You can't be disappointed over what you knew, all along.

Lineup still looks solid. 

Any updates on Clayton Beeter?  

The Yankees are seeing an exodus of coaching personnel. They claim it's a tribute to their organization. Could it be something else?

This weekend, the Daily News revealed that 14 Yankee staffers - coaches, scouts and water cooler warriors - have jumped ship this winter, the kind of deep state cleansing that would bring a smile to Citizen Elon. 

According to Yankee VP Kevin Reese, the "unusually high number" of vanishing acts testifies to the fine-tuned success of the organization. Hail Hydra!  

In this era of A.I. cost-cutting, others might use another name: Purge.

Okay, consider my hands officially thrown up. From where we sit - Level 9 of the parking garage - it's impossible to judge these changes. Is this a Yankee version of Project 2025, or business as usual? Is the franchise stronger, leaner, without these dregs of deadwood? Or is something happening inside the box, something we cannot see? Are institutional secrets spilling out, or did that ship sail long ago, when Houston was banging garbage cans? Is this real, or is this Memorex? Honestly? I dunno. 

Some moves look like promotions. For example, a minor league hitting coordinator named Joe Migliaccio is now the Marlins Director of Hitting. Congrats to Joe! We hardly knew ye! But some moves seem rather lateral. An assistant pitching coach named Desi Druschel accepted the same job with the Mets. Hmm. Did Stevie Cohen win another bidding war? 

Again, no judgements. The 2025 season won't hinge on who writes the most entertaining emails. (If it did, Doug K would be our bench coach.) 

But Yankee fans have every reason to wonder... WTF? 

This has been a Yankee winter like no other in our lifetimes. Never before in history have the Yankees been so brazenly outbid and outspent by a crosstown rival. 

This winter, the Yankees became New York's cheap team, the Bronx Bargains. 

Every single move has hinged on money, with Food Stamps Hal's pockets pulled out, and Cooperstown Cashman validating every deal via the bottom line. We went to the mat on Soto, and we wouldn't cave on a luxury box. Ever since, we've been thumping our chests about frugality. Hail Hydra! Then again, you have to wonder... 

Were we just outbid for the services of Desi Druschel?

MLB bans "forever" the two fans who grappled with Mookie. But where will they rank among the greatest of all time?

Many years ago, back in the dark ages of the Saturday NBC Game of the Week featuring Curt Gowdy - (the man, not the Wyoming state park) - the city of Syracuse suffered a storm-related power outage. (This would have been the early 80's, the lost era of Joe Lefebvre and Matt Nokes.)  The local network affiliate went off the air during a Yankee game.

According to a brief in the next day's paper, shortly after the game blinked off, two Yank fans went to the local station and complained so vigorously, so bitterly, that police were called. The pair left. To this day, they remain at large. But their message has never dimmed: 

Don't fuck with a Yankee game. 

I've always ranked those two as the 2nd Greatest Yankee Fans of All Time, topped only by the anonymous vigilantes who scattered nails across Ed Whitson's driveway. They were the greatest, wherever they are.  

I raise this today because, according to the Internet, we have two more candidates for my reverse Yankee shit list. This week, MLB banned - for life, no less - the two zealots who fought with Mookie Betts over a foul ball in the recent world series. 

Third greatest Yank fans of all-time. 

Okay, I know what you're thinking: Duque, have you've lost your mind? You speak blaspheme! As our social norms deteriorate, as the rule of law is collapsing, respect for stadium ushers everywhere is increasing under siege. We're on a slippery slope. The last thing you should do is defend - much less praise - these lawless, overbearing hooligans. As fans, we should sit in our assigned seats and timidly watch, without disturbing the sanctity of the contest. Now, please excuse me, as I chew some fresh cud. Mooooo...  

Listen: Used to be, a pop fly into the demilitarized zone between fans and players - especially in enemy territory, foul territory - was up for grabs. Remember the Redsock fan who punched Gary Sheffield? The Fenway security guard who fought Jeff Nelson? Wait... does anybody remember Jeffrey Fucking Maier, the 12-year-old "ANGEL IN THE OUTFIELD" who snagged Jeter's HR over the disbelieving Tony Tarasco?  Should he have been banned for life? (Fourth greatest of all time.)

A lifetime ban?  That's the most ludicrous part: Unless they tattooed bar codes onto the pair, or MLB has some secret, big brother facial-ID software, a "lifetime ban" is a running punch line. It's why they make fake mustaches. 

You could argue that the two mooks failed: They didn't dislodge the ball. The umps awarded Betts the out. But I say a message was sent: 

Yankee fans are different. Yankee fans fight, even if their ownership doesn't. Those two fans went down swinging. At some point this summer, Juan Soto will feel hot coffee spill into his lap, or sense a car pulling into his lane, or maybe he'll find a tack in his driveway and wonder... WTF?

Third on the all-time list. 

Could 2B become the new Yankee sinkhole?

"Who's on second?" was a revelatory setup line in the famous Abbott & Costello routine. Who was, of course, on first. And, as we all know, What was on second.

Costello: All I'm trying to find out is what's the guy's name on first base! 
Abbott: No. What is on second base. 
Costello: I'm not asking you who's on second!
Abbott: Who's on first.
Costello: ONE BASE AT A TIME!

So it went, for 10 wondrous minutes, destined for Cooperstown, the Library of Congress and - for my money - those NASA probes that extend for eternity, into the void of space. Who's on second? What. That's who. 

And for Yank fans, the question is whether "I Don't Know," the hometown boy who plays SS, can hit more than .250. Who? What? When? And I don't know. That's a crapola infield, and it always seems to revolve around - What... 2B. 

It shouldn't have been this way. In 2013, we had Robbie Cano, a future lifetime Yankee, with a future plaque in Monument Park, if not Cooperstown. But Food Stamps Hal would not outbid Seattle - money doesn't grow on trees, people! - and both the Yankees and Cano wandered a 2B desert for most of 11 years. The players who have held 2B since Cano - the What the Fucks? - are:    

Brian Reynolds, former "Mr. Oriole."
Stephen Drew, last vestige of "the Curse." 
Rob Refsnyder, called "Brigadoon" for the ways he disappeared.
Starlin Castro, eventually traded for Giancarlo.
Gleyber Torres, earmarked for SS "I Don't know."
DJ LeMahieu, "Mr. Fundamentals."

The list offers wide extremes. Drew sucked, Refsnyder came of age with other teams. Gleyber stagnated and LeMahieu won two batting titles, also he hit the dramatic HR that tied cheater Houston, moments before Altuve unloaded on the giggling El Chapo. But in terms of numbers, nobody replaced Cano, until he fell to PEDs and lack of protection in the batting order. 

The Yankees never did replace the Jogger. And if Aaron Judge stays in CF, or suffers injuries, it's worth wondering if history will repeat, and we will ever replace Juan Soto? 

Either way, the Yankees right now are staring into a deep, dark abyss at 2B. Here's the depth chart: 

1. Jazz Chisholm, which would leave 3B open.
2. LeMahieu, at 36, following his worst-ever season.
3. Oswaldo Cabrera, better utility man?
4. Oswald Peraza, or Year Four at Scranton?
5. Jorbit Vivas, a lost Dodger.
6. Somebody, anybody, in a trade for Marcus Stroman.
7. I Don't Know. Would he move from SS? 

Today, the Athletic - the modern version of The Sporting News - gives the Yankees an "A" for moves this winter, adding that - and I quote - "future Hall of Fame GM Brian Cashman continues to show he's one of the best in the game." 

Listen: I do believe Cashman isn't as bad as fans often claim, while venting, but it's been a long hard slog under his tenure. If he ever goes into the Hall, they better hold a private induction ceremony, because Yankee fans will boo.  

It's way too early to assign grades for 2025. But here's a thought: If you're going to have a black hole in the lineup, 2B is a crappy place for it. What's up? Maybe. I Don't Know. Who? Please, cut the mic...

Apparently, the Yankees are determined to trade Marcus Stroman. Have they learned nothing?

A long, long time ago - eons, you might say - in a upstate backwaters barn sale, I came across a gourd that had been hand-painted to resemble Lawrence Taylor. 

I pondered it. I sniffed it. I weighed it in my tiny hand. It was number 56, the Giants, a decorative tribute to the greatest defensive player in NFL history. 

The owner wanted $15. I sighed, set it down and headed to the car. 

Halfway home, the gravity of my decision began to take hold: 

I had passed on a gourd, hand-painted to be Lawrence Taylor. For $15. A gourd. Hand-painted. The greatest Giant, ever.

To this day, that gourd haunts my nightly dreams. I shall never escape the embarrassment, the ignominy, the self-degradation, of that horrible decision.

I don't claim that the Yankees will ever view Marcus Stroman on the same level as a hand-painted gourd, even one that commemorates Lawrence Taylor. But there is a moral to this story: 

When you let money rule your decisions, you make bad ones. 

And these days, the Yankees are doing just that - on every decision. 

According to the Internet, Cooperstown Cashman is shopping Marcus Stroman like a split-level on Sunset Boulevard. (Sorry, too soon; prayers to L.A.) He wants to shed Stroman's $18 million salary and maybe grab a serviceable 2B. 

Over the last quarter century, Cashman's record as GM includes one ever-repeating debacle: He acquires pitchers, watches them struggle, dumps them - as if their mere presence is a bother - and then watches them thrive. His shit list is formidable: AJ Burnett. Carl Pavano. Kevin Brown. Ian Kennedy. Phil Hughes. Nathan Eovaldi. Sonny Gray. Lance Lynn. Jamison Taillon... 

They always arrive with high expectations. They hit a snag and get tagged with the "Can't Play in NY" handle. They go to another city and make a comeback of sorts. If you look at just the trio of Gray, Eovaldi and Lynn - what a difference it would have made in recent years. But Cashman said no. Too much money. 

Okay, I know what you're thinking: But Duque, Stroman fell apart last year. They barely put him on the playoffs roster. Boone lost confidence in him. He never threw a pitch. 

Yeah, I get it. Stroman is 33. Last year, he went 10-9 with a 4.31 ERA - not great by any measure but - get this - the guy ate 154 innings. Those aren't horrible stats, unless you leash them to an $18 million price tag. 

And that's my problem: The Yankees want to deal Stroman not because he's done, but because he's being paid too much, and Cashman doesn't want him hanging around, reminding everybody of another failure. 

Right now, Stroman is the 6th man in a 5-man rotation. (Apparently, the Yankees won't try a 6-man rotation, which is sorta sad, because seems like a future inevitably. I guess innovations can only be made by Tampa?) Every member of their rotation - Cole, Rodon, Fried, Schmidt and Gil - missed time last year. It's ridiculous to think they'll stay healthy, all year. Every team in baseball needs pitching, pitching, pitching, and the Yankees want to trade a guy who gobbled up 154 innings? 

Okay, I get it: The devil is always in the deal. Maybe the Yankees will grease a trade by paying down Stroman's salary and adding a prospect or two. But what they'll get - mark my words - will be some other team's disappointment. 

Despite their skittishly frugal owner, let's remember that the Yankees remain the richest team in baseball, and the biggest ATM in professional sports. They should never have to base a decision on how much a player is being paid. It should never be in the discussion, much less drive the deal.

If the rumors are true, they'll soon trade Stroman. The Gammonites will hail it - as they always do. But I wonder: Halfway down the road, maybe as early as March, will we be thinking about a hand-painted gourd that looks like Lawrence Taylor?    

Yankee options: Arraez, Polanco, Hernandez, Oswaldo, LeMahieu... Greenland?

We made it. We've reached the official winter doldrums. We're either burning up or freezing out. I hate January. 

The Internet is a toilet clogged with trades that won't happen. (Example: Yanks getting Luis Arraez.) The lone free agent worth signing, Roki Sasaki, will be a Dodger. Come March, we'll be touting the comeback of DJ LeMahieu - statistically, one of MLB's worst players last year - or revisit the Oswald/Oswaldo fantasy continuum. Yep. This is the doldrums. And then, suddenly, out of nowhere... GREENLAND! 

Until yesterday, I never pondered it. Now, holy crap! Forget Sasaki or Alex Bregman. Let's fuckin' buy Greenland! 

Hear me out. If the Dodgers can afford Sasaki, America surely has the extra cash for a new summer home. I understand that you may have questions...

a) How much do we pay? I'm thinking Juan Soto-level money. We get Elon, Bezos, Stevie Cohen, Rupert Murdoch, the Apple guy, the Google guy, and that dead casino guy's widow to each kick in $100 billion, and we use the Dodgers' system of deferring payments until 2050, when Greenland is the last country above water. It'll be a steal.

b) Who do we pay? Me, for starters. For the creative spadework. A big cash bundle to the Danish Royal Family. The rest goes into bribes. 

c) Do we also get their culture, too? Nope. They keep their holidays, rituals, soups, alcoholic beverages, uncomfortable shoes, blouses, TV game shows and celebrities. 

d) Wait... who are their celebrities? Good question. Through old school research, I managed to find a Wikipedia list of famous Greenlanders. Here it is. Before you click, a warning: It's not Stallone's Olympian roster in Expendables III. The only name I flashed on is Henrik Lund, a lyricist and painter who died in 1948. And I might have mixed him up with somebody else. 

e) What will happen to their celebrities? Hey, don't get hung up on this. We're not talking about re-education camps. No famous people will get disappeared. In fact, if we compare Greenland (Pop: 57,000) with - say - Utica, NY, (Pop: 65,000) here's the battle of A-list celebrities:

Utica 
Annette Funicello, ex-Mouseketeer/teen star
Dick Clark, host of Rockin' New Years Eve w/ Ryan Seacrest
Mark Lemke, ex-Braves SS

Greenland 
Henrik Lund, see above
Nukaaka Coster-Waldau, actress, 1990 Miss Greenland

f) Wait... considering their lack of big celebrities, wouldn't we be overpaying? Honestly? You nailed it. We'll be doing them a favor. Fame-wise, they can't even beat Utica, and let's remember that Lemke wasn't much of a hitter. But to show that we're nice guys, we cut each certified Greenlander a check for, say, $10,000! 

g) Where will all the Greenlanders go? Utica. Over one big weekend, we switch the entire populations of Utica and Greenland, a 120,000 person transaction. The new Greenlanders - formerly Uticans - get unlimited land access and a few remaining glaciers. The ex-Greenlanders, now upstate New Yorkers, get to experience summer. Everybody's happy. 

h) What about those few who won't comply?  We'll sprinkle them throughout Canada - our 51st state! -and down to Panama, which will be run by Gov. Mariano Rivera. And if the Greenlanders balk, we sweeten the pot by throwing in Elmira, but that's our final offer.

i) Okay, I'm sold. But what about the Yankee infield? Lemke. He's 59. I think he can still go to his left. 

Giants announce Schoen-Daboll Farewell Tour, LA is burning, Canada is the 51st state, and the Yankees still need pitching. Welcome to 2025.

Just eight days into 2025, it's obvious...

This is the Beginning of the End. Of time. Of democracy. Of the world. Of the Yankee bullpen. 

Soon, somebody - not us - will sign Roki Sasaki. Brace for impact. It might be the Mets. It might be the Dodgers. For the Yankees, it will signify Doomsday, or Mayday, or Boxing Day. (New American holiday, if we annex Canada?)  Whatever. The signs are clear: 2025 will be nuts. Five observations on the looming Yankeeocalypse.

1. The NY Giants will continue to be run by the architect of last year's shit show: Owner John Mara. He'll keep Cain and Able Schoen and Daboll, because - basically - Mara has no choice. He signed off on every bad decision they made. And this year, they'll run everything by him, once again, for his approval. It's human nature. They have only one person to appease - the owner. Thus, we'll relive 2024. 

I say, stop pretending. Let Mara call the plays. The Giants need a QB? Mara must have a grandchild with nothing better to do. Soon, it will be Oct. 15, the Giants will be 1-6, and the "FIRE DABOLL" banners will be flying over Jersey. Does Mara have a secret stake in the skywriting business?

2. Hollywood is burning, and it has nothing to do with the Golden Globes. Last night, from his LA perch overlooking the ocean, Alphonso said he's breathing smoke and watching clouds to the north, not far. He says he's not worried: Where he lives, there are no trees, only asphalt and concrete. Still, I'm reminded of a John Mellencamp song that goes, "It aint the end of the world, but you can see it from here." Fingers crossed for you, Fonzy. Stay wet. 

3. According to the Internet, the Yankees are shopping Marcus Stroman, seeking to escape his $18 million salary. I get it that Stroman was a botch in 2024. But mark my words: One hour after he gets dealt for a used-brake pad, some Yank pitcher will tweak his elbow, and we'll be back to starting Ian Hamilton every 5th day, which will drain the bullpen, which will crush the rotation, which will push Cashman into a bad trade, which will spark the June collapse that has become a new Yankee tradition. The Yankees need pitching, pitching, pitching. Ugh, as if we'll ever learn?

4. Can't deny it: I'm jacked over making Canada our 51st. For starters, we get Justin Bieber, the Guess Who, the Trailer Park Boys, Ken (from Barbie) and Austin Powers. We absorb the entire NHL, which guarantees Olympic gold. We merge Toronto and Buffalo - Buffalonto - and level Manitoba for strip malls. The Canadians never found Bigfoot. We'll get him. Bonus: Pamela Anderson! Forget the tar sands pipeline. The Avril Lavigne/Shania Twain celebrity pipeline. 

5. I know what you're thinking: What about Greenland? I say, wait for the price to drop. If Denmark thinks we're made of money, they'll want Juan Soto-level cash, plus an opt-out clause in 2030. I say, offer a trade: the Outer Banks of North Carolina, straight up, and maybe throw in a few barrier islands in the Gulf of America. They'll soon be underwater, anyway. So, do the Daines have anything else we might want? I'm looking at the list of famous Greenlanders, and it's not moving the needle. Stuck on Naja Abelsen, an artist. Damn. Maybe a soccer goalie? Draft picks? Too many guys named Thorkell. This could be tricky.  

An Above Average Haiku Tuesday ~ De-icer, I don't even know Her - Edition

-please donate a warm coat to keep "Bubbles" Boone from freezing out there-

Dear Mr. Steinbrenner: Your path to a championship in 2025 is simple. Just sign Roki Sasaki.

Dear Madam or Sir,

Look... I get it. 

We've reached that Dr. Strangelove point in this winter's free agency flesh pit: Everybody left is Slim Pickens. Whomever we sign will add to a crushing luxury tax, plus cost us picks in next summer's draft and - frankly - you're tired. You haven't been sleeping well. Your toes are bloating. You hear catcalls on the street. This whole identity - ownership - is dehumanizing. You're a real person, not an ATM. You're more than a Sunday bottomless mimosas special at Hooters. You laugh, you cry... you care.

Do the fans care back? No, the slimy bastards. They demand that you sign Alex Bregman, the cheater. And why? He's destined for Boston, after Anthony Santander signs with Toronto, and Pete Alonso stays a Met. Somebody will sign Tanner Scott. Screw it. They just want you to sign everybody, and you can't. 

As for all those trades being jabbered across the Internet? Screw them. You've decided not to give up The Martian or Spencer Jones, which is all that other teams want. You made a commitment to the future. There's no turning back. 

I get it. 

But but BUT... there happens to be one player on the market who will not cost us another draft pick, or a billion in taxes, or our immortal soul. 

His name is Roki Sasaki. Through a quirk in the Japanese posting processes, you can compete with other bidders. He is 23. He is 6'4." He broke Ohtani's record for throwing the fastest pitch ever recorded, 101 mph, by a high-schooler. He has thrown a perfect game. He once struck out 13 straight batters. He is the answer to the dearth of Japanese stars on the Yankees. He is the perfect response to being outbid by Steve Cohen for Juan Soto. He is the missing ingredient on the 2025 Yankees.

Sign Sasaki, and the Yankees will win the 2025 AL East, drawing a first-round bye and home field advantage through the postseason. 

Sign Sasaki, and the Yankees will present the greatest six-man rotation in baseball history: Cole, Fried, Sasaki, Rodon, Schmidt, Gil. (Stroman as long man in the bullpen.) The six-man staff - unprecedented - would ease the strain on pitchers, lengthening careers and easing the bullpen load. 

Sign Sasaki, and the Mets will not rule NY this summer. In fact, Yank fans will forget Soto - except for when they boo him mercilessly in the Subway Series - and cheer you, as the owner who outsmarted Moneybags Cohen.

Sign Sasaki, and the Yankees will win the 2025 World Series. 

Sign Sasaki, and you will ride down the Canyon of Heroes, and you will be adored, and nobody will ever again think of you as a mere money hose, but as a real person, a good human being.  

Sir, I beg of you... 

For your own good, for the Yankees' good, for the world's good... sign Sasaki. 

Forget congestion pricing. The problem with NYC is its sports team owners

At last, our long national nightmare is over. 

The 2024 Giants - at 3-14, somehow, worse than their record indicates - have finished their season-long pageant of incontinence. 

Actually, they've been done since early October. If an NFL season could, like a Pauly Shore movie, go straight to home video, the Giants could have spared a million fans from wasting 17 Sundays. Sadly, many of us - the weak and frail - had to watch. I hang my head. Week after week, I tuned into their death channel, often reduced to rooting against them, in the hope that they could feel my pain.

What a joke. The truth is, a sports franchise is an organization, a company, a lifeless monolith... it cannot feel anything. It just goes on and on. 

Today, without a doubt, the Giants are NY's worst sports franchise, no easy accomplishment. Yet they will suffer no financial consequences for their mediocrity. As an investment, as a money-maker, they are unbeatable - undefeated. 

By the time you read this, owner John Mara may have decided the fate of GM Joe Schoen and coach Brian Daboll, who have overseen two of the worst seasons - back-to-back, and belly-to-belly - in NFL history. Both could go. Both could stay. One could go - all sorts of permutations, none that will matter.

The problem with the Giants is the problem with the Jets, which is the problem with the Yankees, and which has been problem with every top-down rotted NY sports team in this quarter century. 

It is the generational lockjaw of nepotism, of old-money, pearl-clutching, status quo, country club owners, who view teams as family legacies - or toy ATMs - and who avoid the tough decisions that self-made oligarchs ruthlessly make. For the Giants, it's Mara - age 70 - the eldest son of Wellington. He grew up as a millionaire in a White Plains mansion, then effortlessly evolved into a billionaire labor lawyer, and who now represents the NFL's second longest running ownership family, after the Halas brood in Chicago. It's no coincidence that both teams suck. 

I suspect Mara will feel bad about today's decision, whatever it is. He's never been fired, never been laid off, never wondered about his next paycheck. Often, in the owner's box, he looks genuinely pained. That's when we catch a glimpse of him. Today's owners enter and leave without facing the cameras, the riffraff. 

For example, Hal Steinbrenner generally avoids the Yankee fan base in the way he avoids replacing his failed front office pals. 

The NY media - which prides itself on aggression and toughness - accepts ownership stagnation, (especially those writers whose calls get returned.) And nothing changes. 

What laid bare this problem is the emergence of mega-billionaire Steven Cohen, owner of the long-suffering, now all-powerful, Mets. Cohen is what George Steinbrenner used to be, and what Old George's son will never be. Cohen bought the Mets to win. Hal inherited the Yankees, more or less, as a boulder to carry. 

This week, as Mara issues his decision, the Yankees will probably be losing out to the Mets in another auction. Cohen will outbid Hal for Roki Sasaki, the Japanese pitcher and the best free agent on the market. (There is a possibility that the Dodgers will cook their books and get him.) Sasaki could be the difference between the Yankees winning the AL East and/or merely competing for it. Hal will accept "competing." 

That's because he's a New York owner, all the way. 

And as long as the Maras run the Giants, let's face it: Hal looks pretty good, by comparison. And nothing's gonna change.

Edit: Looks like they're staying.

Edit II: What it was like watching the Giants this year.

Thus far, the Yankees haven't traded their top 4 prospects; that might change

 

It's almost time for the annual midwinter pageant - (think: the Golden Globes but with less cleavage) - known as MLB's "Gloaming of the Farms." 

Soon, the baseball wing of the Internet will launch boisterous debates over the prospect rankings of 19-year-olds that have never been seen live and only exist in box scores. (Think: Schrodinger's catcher.)

One aspect of this annual beef appraisal is its unpleasantness for Yank fans. In these rankings, the rosy curtain of YES optimism is shredded, and we often must gaze into a future of Zolios and Oswaldos. It stings.  

Last August, in the most recent roundup, the Yankee farm system ranked 18th of 30 on MLB.com. In other terms, below average. This time, they'll probably rank worse, though, hey! ya never know! The well-greased Yankee hype machine works on many levels. 

For the record, last August, all our blood rivals outdid us. Tampa ranked #1, (as they always seem to do), followed by Baltimore #3, the Dodgers #5, Boston #7, and the Mets #13. It's hard to see the Yankees moving up. It's not as if anybody broke out in October. We hoped the Martian would supplant Alex Verdugo, or that Ben Rice would take over for Anthony Rizzo. Nope, on both counts. The kids went home. 

But one thing did NOT happen - or, at least, it hasn't yet: The Yankees haven't traded any of their top-tier prospects, generally the lifeblood of a system.  

As shown in the above chart, the '25 Yankees could see one key youthful infusion:  Jasson Dominguez. When signed at a ridiculous age, 16, for a ridiculous bonus - highest in history - Dominguez was ridiculously compared to Mickey Mantle and Mike Trout. Now, he'll be ridiculously compared to Juan Soto. 

For any top Yankee prospect, the ridiculous comparisons never end. I hope they don't crush this kid.

Considering the hype the Yankees have bestowed on Dominguez, it's hard to imagine them trading him. It would be like closing a Broadway show before opening night. But after The Martian, the remaining top three have constantly been whispered in trade rumors.  

Right now, Spencer Jones bounces from being the next Aaron Judge to just another tall guy who strikes out way too much. If he's still a Yankee next June, Jones could reach Scranton and be a 10-game hitting streak from the Bronx. God knows what he'll look like. The Yankees revamp his swing the way Cher used to change gowns in her Vegas act. They might kill him.   

Then there are Roderick Arias - another huge signing bonus baby, who never received the cascade of hype that came with The Martian, and George Lombard Jr., a 2023 first-round pick still sequestered deep in the low-A trenches.  

According to the Internet, Cooperstown Cashman will land a 3B or 2B, rather than hit spring training with DJ LeMahieu in the lineup. Yank fans should brace themselves for a trade that actually hurts. And get ready for sticker shock, because the next farm system rankings - even if they somehow have cleavage! - could be bleak. 

Stang!

Sinatra was the man with the golden arm, 

but Arnold Stang was the man with the Jack Russel that liked beer.

The Redsocks may toy with a six-man rotation in 2025, and other amusing tidbits

By signing 30-year-old World Series lug nut, Walker "Forest" Buehler, to a one-year, $21 million deal, the hateful, frat-boy Redsocks are said to be pondering a six-man pitching rotation in 2025. 

So are the Dodgers and - evidently - us. (Cole, Fried, Rodon, Schmidt, Gil, Stroman?) If so, the long-awaited era of Slingin' Sixes may have finally arrived. For years now, MLB front office tiddily-winkers have pondered the six-man as a potential solution to the workloads that relentlessly grind down starters, enriching the likes of Stroman and Buehler. If it lessens the shredder on elbows and shoulders - or just seems to - the front six  could become the new normal.

Here is Boston's Olympian six-man, for now: 

Garret Crochet
Walker Buehler
Lucas Giolito
Tanner Houk
Brayan Bello
Kutter Crawford

Yeap, Brayan Bello and Kutter Crawford! 

As Jimi would sing, "'S'kyooz me, while I kiss this guy." The 1966 Dodgers (Koufax, Drysdale, Osteen, Sutton) won't lose sleep over this. But but BUT... Boston is quietly bolstering its staff, and it seems to be in on the bidding for remaining free agents.

Is this real or Memorex? Dunno. But we'll get a glimpse when music stops, and Alex Bregman sits down. If Boston signs Bregman, it would solidify the Redsock infield in a way that - frankly - we should find worrisome. Bregman would anchor 3B, Rafael Devers would move to 1B, and the only thing separating us from them would be - let's say it all together - pitching, pitching, pitching. 

The upcoming season might bring an old-fashioned - (that is, circa 2000) - Redsock-Yankee divisional race. Add the wave of young talent still stockpiled in Baltimore, and this recent bogus chatter about a weakened AL East could turn out to be as real as the polls that showed Kamala winning Iowa. Toronto still has massive gobs of Canadian money, and I believe that Tampa - playing home games in a wild, sold-out Yankee bandbox - could be surprisingly reborn. 

Which brings us back to current reality: The Yankees cannot be done this winter. Boston just made a move. We need a counter-move. Hey, Siri, can you call Mr. Steinbrenner? 

Giants ready to notch big victory over Philadelphia with scaredy-cat Barkley. Is there a moral for Yankee fans?

For a moment, let's forget Paul Goldschmidt's dead-on impersonation yesterday of Lance Berkman, Andruw Jones, Ichiro Suzuki, Vernon Wells, Travis Hafner, Chase Headley, Matt Holliday, Chris Carter, Todd Frasier, Kevin Youkilis, Andrew McCutcheon, Troy Tulowitzki, Edwin Encarnacion, Kendrys Morales, Joey Gallo, Josh Donaldson, Anthony Rizzo, Chevy Chase, Mel Gibson, Caitlyn Jenner, Mitch McConnell, Joe Biden the standard, defiant, prickly, old white codger who is five years passed peak foliage, talking about his next film, record album, tv show, bowel movement season. 

Aw, who knows? Maybe Goldswinger has another big year in him. Whatever happens, though, he'll always be one furious Zolio Almonte uppercut away from the two-month gonadal tweak that defines most 37-year-old comebacks. Welcome to NY, Sir. Disregard those names carved into the shower wall. Don't look at the record books for the last 15 years. Maybe you'll buck the odds. Maybe... maybe... um... I just thought of another name... John Mayberry... 

Nope. Let's push out a moment of joy for the New York Football Giants, who hope to end 2024 as they did 2023 - beating a listless, playoff-bound Eagles team in a game that only holds meaning to the lost, desperate souls who gamble on such effluent-spiced affairs. 

With luck, the Giants can finish the season on a two-game win streak (2!) which will solidify momentum heading into 2025 effectively crush their chances to draft one of the top two QBs next year. They'll finish at 4-13, a record that achieves the impossible: It actually sugarcoats the depth of their mediocrity. 

To this, I cry, "Magnificent! Sirs, I salute you! The Yankees, the Mets, even the ghastly Jets - they cannot touch your ability to suck the hopeful oxygen from the Northeast, if not the entire Eastern Seaboard. You are the gold standard for incompetence!" And today, Yank fans should recognize that:  

1. Bad as he is, Food Stamps Hal Steinbrenner is still not as awful an owner as the DNA combination of John Mara and Steve Tisch, two nepo babies of self-entitlement who, together, turned a once-glorious franchise into Rutgers. I am serious here: Compared to these Bozos, Hal and his human clipboard, Brian Cashman, look like Vince Lombardi and John Wooden. The Giants have delivered one of NYC's great meltdowns, on a par with the Dolans, Rich Kotite, the Spiderman musical, and Abe Beam. 

2. Bad as they are, the comedy team of Cashman & Boone is still not as awful as the butcher buffoons of Buffalo, Schoen and Daboll. The Yankees, at least, regularly reach the postseason, though it's pretty well carved out for them by an expanded playoff system, which borders on Little League participation trophies. Still, the NFL has its own system of rewarding bad teams - something the Giants still manage to overcome, year after year. They are truly, in an Olympian manner, "special."

3. And this weekend, the juju gods will savor a special belly laugh: Saquon Barkley won't play against his old team. Chicken. Nope. He'll rest for the playoffs, a decision that perfectly sweetens his vengeance upon Big Blue. Not only did Saquon prove them to be idiots for letting him go - they let him walk to the Eagles, one of their bitterest rivals. And this weekend, he will sit on his splendored butt and watch the Giants happily shoot next year in the balls. 

Is there a Yankee moral here? What happens when you let an arch-enemy outbid you for a truly great player? Jeepers. I can't imagine that happening to the Yankees, right? As for that rising chorus of Gammonites and thunder-clappers, who now speak the clown car courtier message - that, considering his price tag, the Death Barge is better off without Juan Soto, well, I suggest you watch on Sunday and celebrate the money saved by the Giants for letting Barkley go. Hmm. Lemme see. Oh, yes. It allowed them to keep Daniel Jones... Magnificent!  And good luck to Mr. Goldeneye.  

Glad Keefe's back. I get it.

We like reading the guy. That's a given. He's honest, articulate, and accurate. Three traits that all of us here admire and hopefully share. 

I'm glad he's writing again and don't have any problem with him walking back his pledge. 

Sure, he issued an ultimatum," Sign Soto or I'm gone!" But, as we all know, it's hard to quit a team we've loved since early childhood. (Cough. Giants or Jets. Cough.) 

In the case of baseball it's even harder. 

Technically, even though I am a lifetime NY Giant fan I can still enjoy watching the game of football even if they are not in it. 

Yesterday's Texas v. Arizona St. game had one of the best fourth quarters I have ever seen. And that RB guy on AZ, whose name escapes me at the moment. (See the note posted earlier about insufficient coffee consumption.) turned in one of the greatest and gutsiest (and we saw his guts when he puked on the sidelines) performances in college football history. It was a fantastic watch. 

Side note -  Arizona State was totally jobbed on the non-call of helmet to helmet late in the fourth quarter. Really makes you wonder about the purity of the sport. 

But I digress... my point is that unlike football, a game I can watch other teams play, my relationship with baseball (and I suspect Keefe's as well) is 100% with the Yankees.  

Using the above example... would ANY of us here watch the Arizona Diamondbacks play the Texas Rangers?  Uh... I'm guessing, no.  

Consequently, to give up the Yankees is to give up baseball and that's something that is very hard to do. Especially if it is your favorite game to the point of writing about it.  

I can't blame Keefe for walking it back, finding some hope, and sticking with it because, that's pretty much the definition of real fandom. We're not front runners. We're Yankee fans.  He's stuck. We're stuck. 

And, given our collective ages around here, we've suffered through worse. They actually won the pennant last year. Albeit in relatively joyless fashion. 

No Soto? No worries. I heard Stanton has a new Yoga mat. 

Ten Reasons why Anthony Volpe holds the key to the 2025 Yankees

It's the economy shortstop, stupid. Always was. Always will be.

For the Yankees, beyond all the gnashing of teeth and bone over Juan Gone, this is the 2025 reality: It's all about the shortstop. 

Derek Jeter is 50, a full 10 years into retirement. Fifth-graders - the next generation of Yank fans - only know him as a TV postgame meat puppet. Since he left, we've burned through Didi Gregorius, Tyler Wade, Thairo Estrada, Gleyber Torres, Isiah Kiner-Falefa, Oswald Peraza and Oswaldo Cabrera. For now, our long and short term future rests with Anthony Volpe.

How can I say this? We have the game's greatest slugger and perhaps the league's most intriguing leadoff hitter. (Note: That's Jazz Chisolm.) We have Cody Bellinger and Paul Goldschmidt, and The Martian. How can so much balance on Volpe's 23 year old shoulders?

Well, it's easy. Ten reasons... 

1. The Yankees have nobody in the farm system remotely resembling the next star SS. The bonus baby, Roderick Arias, and the former 1st round pick, George Lombard Jr., remain mired in the distant minors, long long ago and far far away. Maybe one will break out in 2025. At best, they might reach Scranton, ready to arrive in 2026. But right now, it's Volpe or your mom. (And she can't go to her left.) 

2. Amid last year's carnival of upheavals, Volpe treaded water. Good news: His rather meh .243 batting average turned out to be 34 points above 2023 (when he hit a ghastly .209.) But his HRs fell from 20 to 12. Overall, his OPS was almost exactly the same - in 2023, a Satanic .666; last year, an Oswaldic .657. He began 2024 at the top of the lineup, finished hitting 7th. Meh. 

3. Two winters ago, Volpe was being compared with Bobby Witt Jr. NY hype? Probably. It surely won't happen again. But Witt's rocketlike ascension last season should offer hope for Volpe. Witt, now 24, is a full year older. They're on the same timeline, so to speak.  

4. Volpe is a grinder, known to put in the work, and to be coachable. (With the Yankees, that can be a problem.) Last spring, the brain trust tinkered with his swing. In the end, he sacrificed power for average. Not sure whether it worked, but there is no reason to think Volpe cannot improve. He might never equal Witt, but he could be a top-tier SS. Sadly, last year, he wasn't.  

5.  His dramatic World Series grand slam highlighted a .286 batting average through the postseason. In October, Volpe seemed to remember his speed. He stole 5 bases, never once thrown out. In the 2024 regular season, he stole 28. Damn. This guy should steal 50. He needs to run wild. Last year, he was like an NBA point guard who misses a few jumpers early on, and then stops shooting.  

6. Volpe compares to Jeter in one metric: Durability. Over the last two years, Volpe has missed five games. (Three in 2023, two last year.) It's hard to imagine the Yankee lineup without Volpe at SS. 

7. Also, Volpe brought decent glovework. In 2023, he won a headscratcher Gold Glove. Last year, he botched some high-profile plays. Remember that out-of-body loss to Baltimore last July, before the All-Star break? Hint: Verdugo's face plant? It happened because Volpe muffed an easy play. Also, he shall be remembered forever for the Knoblachian throw to 3B in game five, which helped unleash the hounds of hell. It barely went 20 feet. I hate to think of that play haunting Volpe all winter. Could it foster the yips? He must put it far behind him. Like, I shouldn't even mention it here. Right? 

8. The hometown hero aspect of Volpe's career - he's from Morristown, NJ, where fun fact: I once worked in the local library - is winding down. Local Boy Makes Good can only go so far. In 2025, Volpe will live or die based on output. If he doesn't hit, the Gammonites will start whispering that he "needs a change of scenery." From there, he's gone. 

9. Age-wise, he's entering his prime, as the undisputed anchor of the infield. Depending on where Jazz Chisolm plays, the Yanks will have a new 1B, 2B and/or 3B.  Goldschmidt should save a bunch of errors, though he carries a whiff of Youkilis, Tulowitski, et al. But heading into 2025, this is Volpe's infield.

10. Did I mention that it's the shortstop, stupid? Because it is. The Yankees will live or die with Volpe. Imagine their lineup if his bat justifies him hitting leadoff? And what it signifies if he's eighth? It's night and day. It's Volpe or nothing.

Three more wishes, seriously.

El Duque's list was very comprehensive. If half of them work out the team will be in good shape. Here are three more...  

1) A Tighter Ship 

With the removal of Gleyber and however they decide who plays second or third and, with the addition of a Gold Glove level first baseman who can still bend at the waist, the defense starts to take pride in... playing defense. 

No more slapping the glove at balls, No more just missing the DP by 1/2 a step. No more missing the cutoff. That kind of stuff. 

2) Play Angry

The Yankees were exposed as a team that is "not very good at baseball". That should piss them off. They should use that insult as fuel and play with more focus and intensity. They need to become "Warriors in the box." again.  

3)  Hire Someone to Re-imagine the Stadium Experience.

Change the music. Change the vibe. Make it a fun place to be. Citi Field is worlds better than YS3.  

YS3 is a soulless, themed Vegas casino. At times the game seems as important as the aerialists at the old Circus Circus. Something you look at while deciding where to lose your money next. 

---

And, Happy New Year to all of you and yours and eat as many eggs as you can 

while there are still eggs to eat. 

Yankee top 10 wish list for 2025

1. The Martian must arrive. He doesn't need to be great (though, come to think of it, that would be nice.) Most importantly: He must not crash and burn. No Ruben Rivera.   

2. Volpe's gotta improve - not dramatically, just a bit. Thinking: .270, 20 HRs and 35 SBs. (Up from .243, 12, 28.)  

3. Fried must be an effective No. 2 starter. Yanks can't afford another Rodon.

4. Mega-negative juju towards Soto and Mets. Tabs turn acidic. Yank fans relentlessly boo. He butchers a few pop flies, tweaks something, assumes a "Woe is me" posture. Think: Bobby Bonilla.

5. Giancarlo needs a full year. What he did in the '24 postseason, he must do over five months. Outside world thinks he's unstoppable, but Yank fans see an always-injured spare part.

6. Yanks must still add pitching. Remember the Iron Law of Boone: He'll use up and squander whatever he's got. 

7. For Chisolm, big year in Big Apple, hitting in front of Judge. Career year? He must channel world series game one, when he singlehandedly stole what should have been the winning run. 

8. Somebody must take 2B or 3B, depending on where Jazz plays.

9. Hope RH Sasaki ends up in NL, not AL East. (Because, let's face it: Yanks won't sign him.)

10. To all of you - health, prosperity, unrelenting sex, crypto windfalls and comfortable shoes. It's gonna be a great year, 2025. We're gonna laugh. We're gonna cry. We're gonna ride down the Canyon of Heroes, (congestion pricing applies.) We're gonna become one with the Yankiverse. And it will be okay... I think...