Dear Commissioner Manfred: The Yankees have now used 21 pitchers in 22 days, and the current roster system is a joke

Dear Madam or Sir,

First, thanks for standing down on Alex Rodriguez. It's a refreshing change. Clearly, A-Rod has his flaws, but it's time for MLB to stop hanging former stars in the town square, especially when they weren't the only wrongdoers, just the only ones caught.

Also, thanks for trying to speed up the game. Good luck on that. For the 55 years I've followed baseball, folks have been trying to speed up the game, without dropping commercials between innings. Oh, well...

But let's get to the meat here. MLB's current 25-man roster system is a joke. Right now, every team in baseball uses its Triple A franchise as a bullpen taxi squad, and we're going through pitchers like I go through potato chips on Friday night.

This month, the Yankees have used 21 pitchers in 22 days - a franchise record for months (not counting September, with the call-ups.) On Wednesday, we will unveil the new and improved Ivan Nova - number 22. By July 1, they might go through an entire 25-man pitching roster. That's nuts.
So what can you do? Here's a suggestion: Reduce the number of regular season games to 154, like it was, back in the day. Lop eight games off the schedule, and you'll give every pitching staff one extra day of rest every two weeks. Arms can heal. You might even save somebody from elbow surgery. I would think the players union would seriously consider taking a little less money for a few free days.

Not only would this help pitching staffs, but MLB will get an added bonus: It can revert to its old system of records. The big slugger totals of the steroids era will be encased in glass, and from now on, hitters will chase the greatest single-season record in sports: Babe Ruth's 60 home runs.

Worried about losing money? Convert the one game Wild Card into three games. Or make the first round of the playoffs seven games, rather than five. You'll have extra time.

Frankly, it's a no-brainer. The pennant race will run just as hot in August and September. The difference: We just might recognize the pitchers.

Should we start worrying about Tampa Bay?

Boston is hitting its "sell-by" date. Toronto is still a mystery. Baltimore remains a clear and present danger. But by now, Tampa was supposed to start wilting. Look at their lineup. Aside from the front four, there's not exactly household names. (And Kiermaier, though he beat on us with a hammer, is still an unknown unknown.)

Matt Moore should be back by July 1. That's a Cy Young level starter (if he returns to form.) It sure beats Ivan Nova coming back to the Yankees. 

It's been a long time since Tampa built itself up by coming in last and drafting high. For the last five years, they've drafted in the same zone as the Yankees. (Though they didn't lose picks on free agents, as we have done.) They're staying more than competitive. They might just be the most well-run franchise in the AL East. 

The A-Rod haters have a new hero

Zack Hample - the Barry Bonds of snagging balls - claims A-Rod's 3,000th hit was his 8,161st grab.

And once he clutches one of your balls, he won't give them back.

Aaron Judge moves up to Scranton, while Flores, Heathcott and Williams try to heal before the trade deadline

Yesterday, the Yankees promoted Aaron Judge - their most celebrated position prospect since Jesus "Ice Cream Sandwich" Montero - up from Trenton to the Scranton/Columbus RailClippers. Judge is 23, but he eats like 40. He stands 6'7" and weighs 275 pounds - C.C. Sabathia territory. At Trenton, Judge was hitting .284 with 12 home runs, (which had him tied for the Eastern League lead.)

Some have speculated that Judge was promoted due to the latest injury - Mason Williams' shoulder - to one of the three Scranton Muskateers: Williams, Slade Heathcott and Ramon Flores. Heathcott came up for a few games and hurt a quad muscle. Williams came up a few games and jammed his shoulder. Flores is now up - second time - and hasn't tweaked any gonads... yet. All three have looked promising, during their brief mayfly flight. And all three are probably on the trading block.

I don't think the Yankees promoted Judge just to spin him like a yo-yo. I think he earned the promotion, and he's ready for Triple A, and his talent trumps all else. (Note: This is hopeful speculation on my part.)

But as the trade deadline nears, we Yankee prospect huggers better not get attached to either or all of the Muskateers. The reason: Carlos Beltran, the ghost of X-mess past. We have him for another long, ugly year. As Brian Cashman looks for a RH bullpen arm (the arrogant, obnoxious - yet still surprisingly effective Papelbon?), it's hard to imagine a trade without one of those three outfielders leaving. (And, yes, Judge could also be on the block, but I don't want to think of such a thing.) 

And let's face it: The trades are coming. Unless we hit a coral reef full of injuries, this is the best shot at a Yankees post-season since 2012. There is no way Cashman will stand pat on this team. The annual July cosmetic nip-and-tuck is his thing.

So... boys, hurry up and heal. And take a good look at the Phillies this week. Your next stop might just be Philadelphia.

Yankees disappoint their fathers

No other way to say it.

DAMON ENDORSES TRUMP

"I'm all for Trump."

It's downright awful being Big Papi: "I'm an 18-year veteran of this league and when I was coming up it seemed like you were respected for that. But it seems like it doesn't work that way any more."

Just... so... awful.

Jose Tabata - ex Yankee super prospect - finally makes a name for himself

He was the key to the 2008 deal that brought us Xavier Nady and Damaso Marte. (We also gave them Karstens, Ohlendorf and McCutchen.) And yesterday, he's the left-leaning bastard who ruined Max Scherzer's perfect game. (And by the way, we should have signed Max Scherzer.)

Mel Stottlemyre, the greatest Yankee of my adolescence, gets his monument

I once went to war over Mel Stottlemyre.

It was with Johnny Z, my next door neighbor. He was bigger than me, four years older, and a Giants fan. I had no business tangling with him. He said Willie Mays was better than Mickey Mantle, and though I disagreed, I could respect his view. But when he made fun of Mel, I went for his throat. He beat the shit out of me.

(But I'd do it again, Johnny. Better secure your oxygen tank, because I'd do it again.)

Yesterday, the Yankees surprised Mel Stottlemyre with a centerfield plaque. In doing so, they tipped their cap to every Yankee fan who survived the lean years, the Horace Clarke and Dooley Womack epoch, when every budding star turned into Steve Whitaker, and every big acquisition became Duke Carmel.

It was when we realized that the world was not a fairy tale, that presidents were not immortal, and that a Mantle and Maris - garnished with a Yogi - only come once in a lifetime.

It was a long dark era, and yet we had hope every fifth day, because Mel would pitch.

Lately, I've been grumbling over the Yankees' penchant for retiring numbers. Frankly, I think it's the wrong way to remember a guy, and I fear it's done more to sell tickets than to honor a legacy. I believe that if you bestow Bernie's number upon a great young player, you're creating a psychic connection to Bernie - not showing disrespect. Ah, but what do I know. This is a franchise that refused to celebrate A-Rod's homerun that tied him with Willie Mays, simply because it couldn't monetize it.

And yet... yesterday, the Yankees sold no tickets on the memory of Mel Stottlemyre.

They just surprised him - and all of us. They honored him.

For one last moment, Jake Gibbs was behind the plate, and Harry Bright was playing first. Elvio Jimenez was patrolling RF, and the next budding superstar - Roger Repoz - was batting third. We didn't know it at the time, but the Yankees were going to suck for ten years. Ten wonderful years.

Listen: I fear we are headed toward another abyss. An injury here or there, and the 2015 Yankees could look a lot like 1965. But yesterday, I realized that the Yankee fan base will get through this, regardless of what happens to Rob Refsnyder. And we will make it because no matter how many bad hops the Fates supply, there will always be a Mel Stottlemyre.

Thank you, Mel.

It was an honor to have fought for you.

Yankees old timers teams have no pitching depth

Where is Scott Proctor?

Is it my imagination, or do the Yankees always have a pitcher named De Paula?

It's like Calvin Trillin's holiday fruitcake, which gets perpetually passed around. We had a Julio.  We had a Rafael. Now we have a Jose. But didn't one change his name? What if there is only one De Paula, and he is a vampire? Has anyone thought of that?

Was last night the final scene of the future A-Rod movie?

It's the stuff of Hollywood: Boy meets sport, boy gets sport, boy loses sport, boy gets sport again. Last night, it unfolded in 3-D, high-rez YES-Mo... right where Mr. Spielberg would want it: Yankee Stadium, June night, full house, Jason Verlander (and, of course, his girlfriend Kate Upton)...

Here's the scene. A-Rod steps in. The crowd, with a million reasons to boo, stands to cheer. The hate-filled owner, up in his sensory-deprivation luxury box, wakes up to shout encouragement. In the stands, Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore - villains from a Redsock movie - join in. Now comes the pitch. Ka-boom! "It's an A-Bomb from A-Rod," the famous Yankee announcer, Vin Scully, cries. "Alexander the Great conquers again!" Cue the credits! Play the Oscar-nominated Celine Dion song: "Love Theme from A-Rod: I Know I'll Hit Again."

Did the closing scene of that future A-Rod movie happen last night?

Does it end with the crowd standing, Hal having a transgender operation, and the evil sportswriter, "Madden" - (played by Sir Ian Lugosi; remember, the year is 2049) - being fired and forced to live out his career writing Tweets for Donald Trump? We'll watch A-Rod - played by Duane Johnson-Gaga - cry, as he's interviewed by Suzyn (Rosie O'Donnell-Cyrus Jr.) Three thousand hits! They said he couldn't do it! He proved everyone wrong!

Or is there yet another act?

Did the A-Rod show end last night, or will there be an autumn finale, the kind that eluded Mariano and the Captain?

Today, foks are comparing Derek Jeter's 3,000th with last night, and it's like the difference between American Pharoah and Francis the Talking Mule. (For example, consider the difference between the fans who caught the balls.) But Jeter surely would have traded that commemorative HR ball for a final October stage. And no matter how he's hitting now, A-Rod's time is running out. Next month, he turns 40. This is his last, best shot to play a meaningful role on a meaningful team.

This is the stuff of Hollywood. That we know. Question: Is it the stuff of Yankee legend?

John's Milestone

The Newsday Sports Twitter feed posted a transcript of John's call of tonight's big moment:

He deals to A-Rod. Swung on and hit in the air to deep right field. That ball is high! It is far! It is gone! His 3,000th hit is a home run, just like Derek Jeter. Jeter hit his off David Price. A-Rod hit his off Justin Verlander. It's an A-bomb from A-Rod! His 3,000th hit. Alex Rodriguez. 3,000 hits, 667 home runs, over 2,000 RBIs. One of the greatest careers any player's ever had. And his teammate, Brian McCann, said he is simply one of the best players in history to ever put on a uniform. Alexander. Emmanuel. Rodriguez!

Before Thursday's game John told Newsday, "When it happens, it happens and I'll say what I say."

UPDATE: In a comment on the previous post, Anonymous points us to this, from Pinstripe Alley:

John Sterling said something remarkably poignant tonight. "There's a million terrible things in this world," he said, "and one of them happened two nights ago in South Carolina. In the grand scheme of things, a baseball player taking PEDs really doesn't mean a whole lot." 

Is it my imagination, or are the Yankees trying to make up for lost milestones?

New York has caught A-Rod Guilt Fever.

"Alex Rodriguez is the Yankees definition of redemption."

"Marlins pitcher is an ASSHO13"

"The Next Alex Rodriguez: MLB's best under age 25"

"A-Rod's comeback all about redemption"

Voodoo Yankeenomics: The sickly, anemic Yankees are second in MLB in overall runs scored per game

Numbers can't lie, right?

No lie: The Yankees are 4th in MLB in runs scored, and second in runs-per-game.

So where are the Yankees stashing all these runs? Do they have an offshore account in the Cayman Islands? Are they moving them late at night into underground silos, and shuffling them onto Superfund cleanup sites? WHERE ARE THEY KEEPING THEIR RUNS?

Aside from mighty Toronto, which leads the pack in practically every offensive category, the Yankees are well above the MLB norm. (And fans who think the entire Kansas City lineup should play in the All Star game:  please 'splain this.) So... how do we, as Yankee diehards, explain the overwhelming perception that the team has a dead offense?

I have two theories. (And welcome yours)

1. It is our natural Yankee fan pessimism, and why we are universally despised and refused entry to many nations. It was best described by Mustang this way: The Yankees can be leading 18-1 in the seventh, but if Jorge Posada grounds into a DP with the bases loaded, the night is a disaster. We are what we are. Nobody on a current Yankee team can ever measure up to the legends of our past... until they win a championship.

2. We pile it on, and we don't utilize the runs we produce. Consider the last four games against Miami. We lost 2-1, squandering another great start by Masahiro Tanaka. We then get bashed 12-2, and then win 2-1. Five runs in three games. Then, last night, we erupts for 9. This team has had two 14-run games, one 13-run game, and an 11-run game. (The opposing teams scored 14 overall in those games.) We score runs, but they don't always matter.

Stats don't lie. But only one counts: We are currently in second place.

Don;'t mess with Wes: Obscure, 25-year-old Yankee farmhand Wes Wilson has the greatest game ever

I have seen the future of rock and roll, and its name is Bruce Spri, Wes Wilson.

I knew John Ken, Wes Wilson. I worked with Wes Wilson. My friend, you are no Wes Wilson...

Soon, NYC, the YES Network, Michael "Everything is O" Kay, and a few isolated hipster outposts across the country will celebrate the 3,000th hit of Alex Rodriguez. As a blog that backed A-Rod for most of the last two years, we believe that nothing should distract the free world from commemorating A-Rod's Christlike resurrection.

But if you're looking for a hero, America, forget the Madonna-scented, Cameron Diaz popcorn-stuffing, boutique luxury toilet stalls of Gotham. Look no further than the Tampa Devil Yankees, a Single A outpost in the Mohave desert heat of Florida in June. Look no further than Wes Wilson, today's one-game Yankeeography. 

Last night, Wilson - a 25-year-old organizational lug nut from Lexington, Kentucky, by way of Indiana University - propelled Tampa to a 17-inning, 5-4 win over hated Bradenton. This, my friends, is how a legend is born. Last night, Wes...

1. Caught 15 innings behind the plate. That's no misprint. Fifteen innings.

2. Pitched the final two innings. That's no misprint. He pitched. He gave up no runs, no hits, nothing. After 15 innings behind the plate, he threw a pair.

3. Hit the game winning home run - his first of the year. (He went 2-6 with a walk, raising his average to .245.)

4. Recorded the win. His first.

5. On the way home from the game, ran into a fully engulfed trailer fire and saved three adorable puppies.

Actually, no, he didn't save any puppies. He just saved baseball. Because Wes Wilson will probably never play in the majors - (Not counting him out, but age 25 at Single A... that's a long climb) - but while YES and the Daily News bend to kiss A-Rod's lipstick-smeared buttocks, and pretend they never marched on his castle with lit torches, we at IT IS HIGH can take a step back from the spit-showers of adulation and appreciate what makes the game of baseball so much fun... when it's not pure, unadulterated torture.

Wes Wilson... take a bow. 

In this isolated hipster outpost of the Yankiverse, we proudly proclaim...

WES WILSON DAY IN AMERICA.

Did Trump hire A-Rod's former employees?

Donald Trump supposedly paid $50 per head 

for people to appear at his Presidential announcement.

Look closely...

With shredded elbows becoming the NFL concussions of baseball, the Yankees turn to another five-out save by Betances

Czar Girardi didn't even make it to the chalk line last night before jerking his right knuckles, indicating this call to the bullpen... brought to you by AAMCO Car Care...  and another chapter in the future memoir of Dellin Betances, to be titled "Becoming Scott Proctor." The result was an October playoff-mode victory - the five-out save! - brought to you by the Yankee Elbow & Shoulder Grindhouse. And it arrived barely one week after the team's previous closer, Andrew Miller, went on shore leave because - well, hoping here - the poor guy simply needed a rest.

So ended the brief spasm of excitement within the YES and Loews broadcast booths that Justin Wilson was justifying the trade of Frankie Cervelli - hitting .316 for Pittsburgh - and becoming the famous "Bridge to Mariano," a slot that has actually been tougher to fill than the closer role itself. The Yankees' 12-man staff is simply too small. The team must continually shuffle arms up from Scranton. We spent last winter loading up on bullpen carbohydrates, yet here we are... calling in the overworked back-up closer for a five-out save against a second-division team... in the merry month of June. Start spreadin' the news... we're leavin' today...

Actually, the scariest part of last night was that Jerkin' Joe had little choice. With Wilson getting cuffed around, who else do you summon from the netherworld seance that doubles as the Yankee bullpen? Whomever you call, it's the Babadook. For all the Lindgrens and Burawas, the Pinders and Ramirezes, the Tracys and Rumbelows of Mordor, Pa., the brain trust still prefers Sergio Santos and Jose DePaula, snatched from baseball's version of the Saigon helicopter airlifts. When our next starter goes out in the fifth - here's to you, Mrs. Capuano! - we might as well call fans from the bleachers to throw the last four.

Shredded arms are the NFL concussions of baseball, and the Yankees are doing their share.

Well, we're a game out in the AL East. We're viable. Jacoby Ellsbury might even return before the ice caps have melted, and Florida is six-inches below the sea. But damn, it's really going to hurt when Betances calls in sick. A five-out save in June? Who ya gonna call in August? Wither goest Mr. Proctor?

The new Evil Empire? Will MLB suspicions about Cardinal hackers mirror the ardent zeal they showed with curbing A-Rod?

Two years ago, Bud Selig made Alex Rodriguez into baseball's ultimate pariah. (A-Rod may have had a slight role in this, too.) The Brewer Owner/Commissioner ripped Rodriguez as a lifetime cheater, a lifetime monster, worthy of a lifetime ban. (A-Rod may have had slight a role in this, too.) (Same with his Yankee contract.)

Basically, Selig said A-Rod could never again be trusted. Once a cheating monster, always a cheating monster. Alex's lifetime totals should be questioned. His sincerity should be questioned. He became the human face of steroids. And to rid the game of such evil, A-Rod needed to go.

And he did... for a year.

Yesterday, the beloved, cherished, saintly and simply adorable St. Louis Cardinals - a team as far from wrongdoing scandal as the planet Pluto is from Sarah Palin - were accused of hacking the Houston Astros' private database, like a gang of Syrian computer thugs. It's early in the overall investigative process, but the allegations sure do look fishy.

Let's hope MLB applies the same zeal and diligence to St. Louis as it did with Alex.

Once a cheating monster, always a cheating monster, right?

If the Cards were hacking the Astros, maybe baseball has had a different Evil Empire, all along.

Seems to me, MLB loves to investigate players, especially aging stars at the top of their money-earning curve. But it never seemed so interested in finding whether the Yankee or Redsock brass knew about players' drug use, even though such claims surfaced on more than one occasion. Same with other teams and other front offices... it's always on the players, never management.

Can't see any rich old players having much to do with this one.

So... will MLB investigate front offices?

Do the owners ever question the owners?

The Yankee lineup last night was a disaster waiting to unfold... as may be the next few years

Ladies and gentlemen, meet your 2015 National League-style Bronx Bombers! 

CF Brett Gardner 

SS Didi Gregorius

1B Mark Teixeira

C Brian McCann

3B Chase Headley

RF Carlos Beltran

LF Chris Young

2B Brendan Ryan

and Jerry Mathers as "The Beaver."

Gulp. 

OK, cue "Theme from Titanic." Plug in the Celine Deion automation. Here we go again, folks. The Yankees win seven in a row, pop the champagne for wrapping up the AL East, and then the cigar explodes. They've now lost five of six. ("... and batting second, the shortstop, Di-di-Gre-gor-i-us...") We now can see the future: Each positive burst will be followed by a meltdown. The team might win 85 games. Its real hope is that the AL East continues to be made from recycled animal bedding. If no team emerges, the Yankees can win through advanced mediocrity. Still, take a look at that lineup. Does it remind you of, say, 1967? Or maybe 2013?

Get used to it. This lineups are the future. 

Yesterday, MLB's 2014-15 international signing period ended. For the next two years, the Yankees will be limited to paying signing bonuses of less than $300,000 to talent outside the U.S. border. By the time they can again chase the top young international talent, a draft will likely be in place, further killing whatever advantage they once had as a big market franchise. 

I believe that when a New York City pro sports franchise loses its financial edge, it actually becomes disadvantaged. Look at the landscape of NYC sports teams. Playing in Gotham is far tougher than in Smallville. There are distractions and pressures that Astros, Padres and Royals don't have to face. Thus, the long term strategy for the Yankees mirrors that of the Nats: Finish last for several years, draft high and eventually get a Bryce Harper. And this notion that Harper will be a Yankee in 2019 fails to consider how much the Evils would have to pay in luxury taxes. They can get Harper and be a one-star team, like the Texas Rangers once were with A-Rod. Last place and the MVP. Pretty exciting, eh?

Hal "I'm Not Cheap" Steinbrenner signed off on these rule changes, which effectively transformed the Yankees into this big, leaky, slow-moving garbage barge. Maybe Hal didn't feel he had the clout to fight, after his dad died. Or maybe he didn't care... because Hal can make just as much money with mediocre lineups like the one the Yankees posted last night. A few farewell tours and number retired ceremonies can pack the house. They sell the Yankee legacy like dirt in the old stadium. The money tap keeps rolling in. Take a good look at that lineup, folks. Tell me, how many runs was it ever going to score?