Giovanni!

 

For me, the best way to pay tribute to John Sterling is through the world he loved almost as much as that of baseball: the American musical theatre. Hence, I present, Giovanni!, the Master's musical epic, as he might have written it.

We open with hordes of distraught, keening Yankees fans and players making their way into the Original Yankees Stadium, which has somehow manifested itself across River Avenue. They wail and sing dolefully:

Requiem aeternum don Giovanni

Requiem aeternum don Giovanni

HAL & PAL swagger into the Stadium. 

HAL is wearing his kinky boots and a yachting cap; PAL, his finest elf rappelling costume. They sing disdainfully:

Oh, what a circus

Oh, what a show!

New York has gone to town

Over the death of a man who got everything wrong!

Somehow, though, JOHN STERLING’S voice echoes out over the field:

He’s something sort of Grandish! The Grandy Man can! Oh, the Grandy Man can!

HAL & PAL tremble, and clutch each other, but resume singing derisively:

He had his moments

He had some style

For years the best show in town was the crowd

Outside the Drive-by-Jeep booth in the Stadium

Crying, “John!  John!  It is so gone!”

But STERLING'S voice resounds again through the PA system, enthralling the crowd:

Sir Lancelot rides to the rescue! C’est lui! C’est lui!

HAL & PAL persist:

But that’s all gone now.

Soon as the tears from the media clear

We’re all gonna see

How

He did nothing for US!

For a third time, Sterling's voice enraptures the Stadium:

Russell shows muscle! Monsieur Martin est la! Giancarlo, non si può stoppalaro! It is a Stentorian home run! Non dimenticar! That ball sure traveled far! Oh, McCann can! Yes, McCann can! El Comedulce! Bobby Abreu is as sweet as candy! 

JOHN'S coffin is brought into the ballpark, carried by eight pallbearers: THE CORE OF FOUR plus BERNIE WILLIAMS, PAUL O'NEILL, EL DUQUE, and TINO MARTINEZ. 

Atop the enormous catafalque, wearing a glimmering, sleeveless dress, is SUZYN WALDMAN. She raises her arms to the heavens, and the mourners are moved to song once more:

Salve regina mater misericordiae

Vita dulcedo et spes nostra

Salve salve Suzyn regina

Ad te clamamus exules filii Giovanni

Ad te suspiramus gementes et flentes

O Clemens o roger

SUZYN extends her arms to them, and begins to sing:

Don’t cry for me, Suzyn Waldman,

For I am ordinary, unimportant

And undeserving

Of such attention

Unless we all are

I think we all are.

 

Climb on John’s catafalque 

O my Yankees!

And when it’s your turn to die 

You’ll remember

They wore those special hats

Sang lamentations

Not just for Giovanni

For everybody

So share his glory

So share his story.

SUZYN, the pallbearers, and the crowd are all reduced to sobbing. JOHN'S voice rings out again:

Oh, yes, in-Didi! Gregorious makes Yankee fans euphorious! This is the dawning of the Age of Gregorious! Robbie Cano, don'tcha know! The Giambino! The Bam-Tino! 

HAL & PAL slink away from the now ecstatic crowd. HAL, brooding, asks PAL:

How can we best monetize this?

(With many thanks to Andrew Mearns, managing editor for our brethren over at Pinstripe Alley, and to Stang, for bringing his ranking of all 144 of the Master's calls to my attention.)

WE WILL NEVER LOSE AGAIN!

 Neither will the Knicks!

An Absolute Legend Indeed

 
This popped up on my Facebook feed this morning.  Very nice.

Yanks still can't shake Tampa. As Butch would say to Sundance, "Who are those guys?"

Last winter, Boston and Baltimore stood out like four-hour erections in the AL East. 

The O's had signed Pete Alonso, their long-heralded missing piece, and the Redsocks officially launched their ultimate youth movement, led by The Next Big Thing, Roman Anthony.  

It's too early to count out anyone. (Somebody once said, you cannot predict baseball.)  But both teams sit at least 8 games down: Baltimore's bullpen is in tatters, and Boston fired everybody. (Suck on it, Jason Varitek; join a professional face-slapping league.)

The Yankees are in first... FIRST... but something is wrong.

They should be alone - drunken and self-pleasured, on a comfy couch in their softest pajamas, eating pizza and wings, so far atop their division that the pennant race seems like a distant butterfly fart.

But but BUT... Tampa keeps winning - now 10 of 11 - and the Yankee hot streak has merely allowed us to keep pace. (And since the Rays swept our only encounter, they technically own a postseason tie-breaker.)

Check out the names to the right. After Junior Caminero and Cedric Mullins, do you know anybody? WTF is going on?

Look, I'm not squawking. I wanna think that Yank fans know when the ham is smoked. Right now, we're sitting in a catbird seat, with a surplus of talent at Scranton and two ace pitchers about to return. We haven't felt this good since Clint Frazier was wowing Triple A. 

But, damn, we should be six up. At least! And beginning tonight, we face deGrom and Eovaldi? WTF, juju gods. We could hit the weekend in 2nd. Yeesh. WTF?

For posterity, the top 10 Memories of John Sterling, ranked

10. "An A-Bomb... from A-Rod!"

9. "Bern, baby, burn!"

8. "Robbie Cano, a-doncha-know!"

7. "... And I thank you, Suzyn..."

6. Show tunes.

5. "Thuuuuuuh pitch..."

4. "Tomorrow will be a completely different game, because of the pitchers."

3. "You can't predict baseball, Suzyn."

2. "It is high! It is far! It is gone!"

1. "Yankees win! Thuuuuuh... Yankees... win!"

Michael Kay's remembrance will help you know John better.

Rest in Peace, John – 05/04/26

Remembering The Master: A walk-off winwarble and the Deadly Spinners

 

Remembering The Master: John and Suzyn's book club

 

Remembering The Master: John vs. the Screamer

 

Remembering The Master: On Derek Jeter, an amazing human being.

 

Remembering The Master: The A-bomb... from Godzilla?

 

Ballgame over

 Rest in peace, Maestro. You were, indeed, sui genesis.

Notre Raison d'être est morte !

I can no longer access images via google ( I'll work with Mustang to get this corrected ), but I can't let this day pass without comment.  

John Sterling, our " reason for being" is dead.  In his 87th year, I believe.

"What," as the French writer , Albert Camus, once said, " do we do now?"

The honorifics and messages of condolence will last but a few days. 

Do we carry on as if unaffected?

As a line in one of my favorite country song states, " a link in that chain has been broken."

Can we continue to represent this man now that he is calling games for Babe Ruth and Lou?

I still remember meeting John on two occasions;  at the mayor's mansion in NYC after a World Series win, and in a bar in Tampa during spring training ( he was drinking martinis).

"It is high, it is far...." will live forever.  For John and all his calls. 

I'll drink to that

John Sterling is dead.

Heart attack. 

It is high. It is far. It is sad.

The Yankees are playing hardball... with themselves.

Hot news comes through the grapevine. Take yesterday... 

First, Alphonso texted that "Ben Rice has been pulled," and the season was over. Later, after The Martian homered, and the season was saved. Then Stang chimed in: "Volpe optioned to Scranton." Bedlam.

The rise and fall of humankind, neatly compressed into nine innings, and dispatched with a sense that the Yankees may have finally stopped believing their own crapola, and are throwing down hard decisions, the kind their fans have wanted for years. Consider...

1. Anthony Volpe to Scranton. This brought a jolt. Most Yank fans believed the team would restore Volpe to starting SS, despite being outperformed by Jose Caballero in almost every comparison - also with the Yankees streaking. But they didn't bite.

Volpe is a decent fielding SS (when not hurt) and a potential 30 HR hitter (19 last year.) He plays hard, always hustles, never whines, remembers birthdays, holds the door for ladies - a fine human being - but over three years, he's hit .222, and that's Jorbit Vivas after a sixpack. Still, it's a hard fall. At Scranton, he'll compete with George Lombard Jr. at SS, and Oswaldo Cabrera for utility IN. Volpe must do what he's never done before: Hit at Triple A. (In two Railrider incarnations, he hit .236 and .267.) Whatever he does, his future might be in another town - another ruthless decision by the brain trust?

2. Luis Gil to Scranton. You can't be Rookie of the Year forever. With an ERA over 6.00, Gil was demoted and replaced with Elmer Rodriguez, who will soon get caught in the shuffle behind Gerrit Cole and Carlos Rodon. It's a huge logjam for Gil. (FYI: In one start with Scranton, Gil went 4.2 innings and gave up 3 ER; for the Yankees, Elmer went 4 and gave up 2 ER.)  Gil might end up in another city, as well.

3. Two weeks ago, they ditched Ryan McMahon for Amed Rosario at 3B. Now, McMahon has started to hit. (His fielding was never questioned.) But Rosario's bat will keep him in the mix. (Also, fun fact: He is one of Suzyn's faves; she devoted an inning to his smile and beloved place on the team, the love of a true mom.) 

4. They released Randal Grichuk. This, after Cashman went out of his way to sign Grichuk and send The Martian to Scranton.

5. They benched Paul Goldschmidt against lefties, so Rice can play everyday. Another tough call. Goldy's a legit candidate for the Hall. His presence yesterday tempered the possible loss of Rice (which the Yankees say will only be a day-to-day loss. Sadly, they lie.) 

They will soon deal with the return of Giancarlo Stanton, which could send Jasson Dominguez back to Scranton. This won't go over well. Meanwhile, at Triple A, Spencer Jones hit two HRs yesterday, his second multi-HR game in a week.

Would Brian Cashman demand that Stanton play a few rehab games in the minors? Probably not. Stanton is the Grand Old Man. Still, this may be the Yankees' hottest streak of 2026, and they still can't seem to shake Tampa. It's no time to play sentimental faves. 

After Baltimore tonight, with Cam Schlittler, they face Texas, with deGrom and Eovaldi lying in wait. This is hardball, people. And today, nobody knows it more than Volpe.

Incroyable!

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

      Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”

      He chortled in his joy.

I never really thought it was possible. The vague maybes of Boone didn't convince me. The shit stats from Double A (Double A!!) didn't convince me. The pretty terrific play of Cabbie didn't convince me.

Who woulda thunk it? Cashman is abandoning his butt buddy Volpe for at least another three weeks? We will be spared the pain of Little Tony batting in the low .200s and choking on key plays?

Volpe is staying in the minors. The Martian is starting to whomp the ball. Rice doesn't have a broken hand. Cody is hot as a pistol.

Maybe there is a God.

"There's somethin' happenin' here..."

 ...what it is ain't exactly clear..."

All right, let's go down the check list.  Today, in a Sunday afternoon game:

—The Yankees fielded the ball like drunks (at least in the infield).

—Jazz Chisholm cost us a run with another boneheaded play.

—Ryan McMahon elevated his game, adding his inability to glove or field the ball to his inability to hit it.

—The Martian, after days of careful medical examination...played like a whirling dervish.

—Ben Rice, having seemingly injured himself...is fine.

—Aaron Boone:

    Insisted on once again pitching every time to a red-hot Pete Alonso, even though nobody else on the Orioles can hit a lick.

    Refused to pinch-hit for McMahon in the 7th inning, with the game still on the line.

    Decided to bring in our overworked closer "to get some work" with the game safely out of reach.

We still won by eight runs.

And, oh yeah:

—Brian Cashman decided to keep Anthony Volpe down on the farm.

"It's time we stop/ Hey, what's that sound/ Everybody look what's goin' down..."

Sure are fascinating times that we're living in . . .

 

Forever and Ever and Ever and Ever and Ever . . . GT • 05•03•26

 f o r e v e r

(NO DISRESPECT INTENDED TOWARDS THE GRADY TWINS)

The Yankees should be pulling away in the AL East. It's not happening. (And 10 Factual Factoids)

Fun Factual factoids about the Yankees, one-fifth of the way into the midterms   postseason. 

1. They still can't shake hateful Tampa, a team comprised of Junior Caminero - the emerging nation - and a Travoltian roster of 2nd-chancers: Drew Rasmussen (30), Shane McClanahan (29), Jonathan Aranda (27), Jonny DeLuca (27), et al. Before you snicker, remember: they swept us. Postseason tie-breakers... ouch.

2. It's not an A.I. hallucination. (I don't think so, anyway.) Yanks are making contact. Across MLB, only two Yanks rank in the top 40 for Ks, and one is Aaron Judge, (14th), who doesn't count. Jazz Chisholm comes in at 37th. As a team, they are 11th - not bad, considering that they lead MLB in HRs. This love of contact could play against Spencer Jones getting the call.

3. Perennial SB king Jose Caballero is facing competition. He's 3rd - behind Washington's Nasim Nunez and Cleveland's Jose Ramirez (huh?) - with 12. (He's been thrown out at least twice trying to swipe third.) No opposing player threatens Cabby's reign. That role belongs to Anthony Volpe.

4. If you look at OPS by position, only three Yankees make the top 10 lists. They are Judge, of course, (1st in RF), Ben Rice (1st at first) and Cody Bellinger (3rd in LF, rising with a bullet.) Jazz and Stanton? Nope.

5. Last year, Judge chased a triple crown. He still might, but - well - nope. He's tied for 2nd in HRs, 27th in RBIs, and he's lost at sea in BA, hitting .256. A couple Player of the Month awards could change that. 

6. Yanks have three starters in MLB's top 11 for ERA: Cam Schlittler (2nd), Max Fried (8th) and Will Warren, (11th.)  With Cole and Rodon returning, pinch me.

7. For all that's tormented them, Redsock fans still haven't experienced the inevitable, out-of-body, meltdown by Aroldis Chapman. His ERA is 0.92. Ahh, but one of these days... hahahaha!... the Cuban Water Cannon shall reappear!

8. It's taken 35 years, but we may finally be free of Jose Altuve. He's hitting .248 with 3 HRs and 8 RBIs, and he's not covering ground at 2B. Don't want to jinx his downfall. But the juju gods look tired of his act. 

9. Speaking of future Hall of Famers, Roman Anthony is hitting .233 with 1 HR and 5 RBIs. He ranks 124th in OPS, at .682. Coupled with the troubles of Jackson Holliday, it might be time to reassess the bullshit annual Number One prospect rankings, which MLB's state-run media trowels out to the thirsty public. (Also, Bobby Witt Jr. might not be the MVP we anticipated two years ago. And then there is Volpe...) Keep that in mind when they turn their hype cannons on George Lombard Jr.

10. In 2024 - while Witt, Holliday and Anthony were okaying their bronze plaques - Ben Rice was ranked as the Yankees' 12th top prospect by Baseball America. Behind Roderick Arias and Chase Hampton. Not knocking them. Just sayin'...  

Weavers & Weathers & Warrens – OH MY ! – Game Thread – 05/02/26

Enjoy Your Saturday, Fellow IIHIIFIIC'ers

 

The Yankees face several massive decisions, and - for now - there is only one way to go.

Fun fact: Each of us wishes he or she could run the Yankees - with a trusty time machine, of course. 

We wouldn't have traded Mike Lowell, or punted on Nathan Eovaldi, or botched countless roster tweaks, from Zolio to Melky, from Nova to Cano, from Tauchman to Overbay. We wouldn't have gone 16 years without a ring, as Brian "Cooperstown" Cashman has now done. 

But but BUT... today, I stand before you, groveling to the juju gods in rapt appreciation that I. Am. Not. Cashman.

Nope. He can have his fancy parking space, his coffee machine, the cufflinks, the private commode... everything. Over the next few weeks, Cashman has several major decisions to make - first world problems - with only one way to go - down. The Yankees have won 11 of 13, and they face an infusion of rawboned youth and experienced guile. It's hard to imagine a period where things go better than they've gone, and - of course - when it starts to go south, we'll blame Cashman for everything. You get the tar; I'll get the chickens. 

Today, we enjoy the best record in the AL, with a former Cy Young winner returning and various youngsters knocking on various doors. But a month from now, with summer still beginning to explode, we could be looking at a disaster, because that's all, folks, that's China Town, Jake, and that's baseball, Suzyn. 

Cashman faces three huge decisions, each to be rammed down his throat. In fact, he has no decision to make.

1. What to do with Gerrit Cole and Carlos Rodon? The answer? Nothing. Just hold on and watch. Both are returning. Both will join the rotation, probably this month, replacing the two Ryans - Weathers and Yarbrough, who will head to the bullpen.

This is great news, unless it isn't. There's no guarantee that Cole, at 35, can recapture the Cy Young stuff that is now three years in his rearview. Same with Rodan, 33. Last season, he had, arguably, his best year as a Yankee - 18-9, 3.03. But at the end, he could barely lift his shoulder. He must reinvent himself, as pitchers his age must always do.

This isn't Cashman's decision to make. These guys are coming back. Period. They are veteran pitchers, former aces, and cagy enough to win by honest duplicity. But Cole gave up three runs the other day in Double A, and Rodon gave up one, and baseball is murder, especially when a great career is reaching its twilight. To paraphrase Michael Kay, do Cole and Rodon have rallies in their bones? If they don't, it will be painful.

2. The Martian's elbow scan came back clear, and it looks as though he will not miss playing time. (He might play today.) This is wonderful news. The sight of him being looked over by trainers, after Nathan Eovaldi plunked his elbow - it was our worst nightmare. 

We need to know what Jasson Dominguez has. The notion that he'd miss a month or two with a broken elbow - that's how careers get derailed. Eight years after he was signed in a hail of hype and money, we're still waiting. (Spencer Jones, too.) It's time to find out what we have... and, if necessary, to move on.

3. The fulcrum point for Anthony Volpe creeps ever closer. He's ready to join the team. But Jose Caballero has earned the right to start at SS. For God's sake, he homered last night. He's playing at a level that we haven't seen Volpe reach since the brief period when he shined, three years ago, as a once-around-the-league rookie.

One wrinkle: if the Yankees option Volpe to the minors, for at least 20 days, apparently, it will delay his free-agent eligibility by a year, pushing it to 2030. Volpe won't like that, and I don't blame him. But don't be surprised if Cashman plays hardball and sends him to Scranton, to play 3B next to SS George Lombard Jr. 

For now, I'm glad I'm not Cashman. Though a time machine wouldn't be bad...

Game Thread – Friday 05/01/26 – Whatever WILL happen tonight in the Bronx ?

 

MLB All-Workers-of-the-World-Unite! Team

 1B  Marx Texeira

2B  Stalin Castro
SS  Lenyn Sosa
3B  Pinko Higgins

LF  Apparatchik Hafey
CF  Adam Engels
RF  Fellow Traveler Jankowski

C   Roy Partee Member

RHP Red Ruffing, Red Faber, Red Patterson

LHP Lefty Grove, Lefty Holmes, Lefty Calhoun, Lefty Gomez, Lefty O’Doul

MGR Commie Mack

For the Yankees, a season-defining logjam approaches... and where is the Bard of the Bullpen?

 Bong-water ponderings from an off-day...

1. After a winter of healing, Anthony Volpe is knocking on the clubhouse door, and we're still in our pajamas. By now, we were supposed to have a place for Volpe, a path for him, a plan that didn't involve pissing on Jose Caballero, who deserves to be our everyday SS. 

The Cabster's .267 average is second on the Yankees, and, as usual, he leads the AL in stolen bases. Volpe won't beat those numbers. (He'll hit more HRs, but is that what we need?) Moreover, Volpe led the AL in errors last year. I doubt he expects to have SS handed to him. But something's gotta happen.

The brain trust keeps floating this line that Caballero is a utility man, which - after further review - is so demeaning that it's almost racist. In fact, Volpe should stay in Scranton and learn 3B, because no matter who plays SS, the emerging nation known as George Lombard Jr. is soon to arrive, and somebody's gonna get traded for a bullpen lug nut.   

2. Fear the worst. This week, the juju gods gave us a glimpse: The Martian took a pitch to the elbow, only hours after the team jettisoned Randal Grichuk. (We're still awaiting scanner results.) If the Yankees do end up moving Volpe or Caballero, rest assured that somebody will quickly tweak something, and Cashman will be on the phone to Paul DeJong. 

3. For now, as the wranglers used to say on Wagon Train, "It's quiet... too quiet." And it is. Everywhere you look, Yankee nemeses - the Redsocks, Mets and Astros - are floundering. (Houston, at 12-20, didn't even make the AL chart on the right.) It's quiet... too fukking quiet. 

If history repeats, May will be a shit show. Giancarlo will be out much longer than announced. Ben Rice will come back to earth. The bullpen will get overworked, and Boone will be Boone. Gerrit Cole and Carlos Rodon will return, but something seems off. It's not as if either is dominating in the minors. I'm not sounding alarms - rehab outings mean nothing - but is it too much to expect shutout innings, when they're doing Double A? 

4. No sirens. This is not a critical weekend, or a critical week, or even a critical month. But every win we bank in May will stand tall in September, when we're staggering drunkenly toward the end. Last year, we couldn't beat our rivals, and the tie-breakers killed us. It sure would be nice to knock down Baltimore this weekend, so they don't get ideas. With Boston in a funk, the O's represent our biggest adversary. Let's take them as they come. 

4. I miss Luke Weaver, the Bullpen Bard. I hope the Mets panic, clean house, trade him for phlegm, and the Yankees somehow get him. Yes, he's been a disaster across town. He should have never left the Bronx. Meanwhile, he remains one of the most thoughtful - and funniest - players in the game. He is the future of YES, if the Yankees are smart. Last night, after surrendering a horror show, game-losing HR, he spoke directly to flame-sputtering reporters. This is what he said.

"I've been sitting here trying to think about what to even say to you guys and what you're even going to ask. At the end of the day, this pursuit of perfection is an ultimate pressurized failure mindset. "Everybody wants to be the hero because we care and we want to win really, really bad. I just don't think success lives in that realm. It truly doesn't. I sit there and feel the weight of the world, like I let the team down. "We sit there, and we tell you guys, 'It'll come. This is the game. This is the law of averages.' But those words just don't hold the same weight when you continue to lose, day after day. The encouragement and motivation to pursue being the best person and best baseball player you can be is the only answer."

Wow. He's fukkin' Pete Buttigieg!

Juan for the Money.

 

One has to wonder if, sometime during the Mets' rain-soaked bloodbath at the hands of the Washington Nationals last night, even Juan Soto didn't have some feeling that just maaaayyybeee he should have taken a few gazillion less to stay with your New York Yankees.

With the Yanks playing the best ball in the American League, the Mets went down to their 16th loss in 19 games, 14-2, before a gloomy, silent crowd in Flushing.  While the Yankees are 20-11, even after being shutout by the Babadook, Eovaldi, the Mets are now 10-20. 

They have lost 16 of their last 19 games, while being outscored by 101-49—a schneid the likes of which the Yanks last endured...well, almost never.  

After the Nationals got off to an early, 2-0 lead against another of the Mets' awful starters, you could see that Juan had his game face on. He had already smashed a double in the first inning and now, with one out in the third, he launched a deep drive to left for a solo home run (a Solo Soto, if you will). 

He raced around the bases with the determination showing in his face, pumping his fist—accepting the orange construction helmet that the Mets had adopted as their particular, silly dugout celebration of the long ball.

He was pulling the Mets back, all by himself, and those still remaining in spectral, rain-drenched stand sent up a hoarse cry of defiance.

Then, in the next inning, David Peterson and Sean Manaea went out and gave up 7 more runs, putting the Mets in a 9-1 hole.

It was one more disaster, in what has been a Mets season full of them. 

Soto, to his credit, didn't mail it in the rest of the way (unlike the Yankees on a getaway day). He hit a line-drive single in his next at-bat, creating a least a feeble excuse for the saturated Mets fans to care:

Would he hit for the cycle?

He actually came fairly close, hitting a couple of deep flyballs. Not enough. The Mets lost, 14-2.

The Queens team is playing .333 ball. The injuries are piling up, the pitchers are spitting the bit, and no one save Soto seems able to hit for power. 

It's impossible to say for sure in today's game, with 40 percent of all clubs making the playoffs. But it's difficult not to conclude that the Mets are toast for 2026—before the end of April. 

One could almost see what Soto was thinking at the end: (Almost) Fourteen more years of THIS? 

Well, Juan, it's what you wanted.  

When he was still on the Yankees, the guy hitting behind Juan Soto was Aaron Judge. Last night, out in Queens, it was someone named M.J. Melendez, a lifetime .216 hitter.  

So far the entire team overhaul by the Mets' front-office genius, David Stearns, is looking like an abject failure that is likely only to get worse.

When the last, best-laid plans of the Metsies scuppered, Steve Cohen used his money to launch a complete rebuild. Now that another such investment seems required, one wonders how much Cohen will shell out—having finally got his casino, which may have been the real reason for his acquiring the team in the first place.

It has now been 40 years since the Mets last won it all, and at this rate it looks like it could be another 40.

Dismayed as he must have been, sitting in the Yanks' dugout after that embarrassing, Game Five loss in the 2024 World Series, Soto must now be wondering if he will ever get that close to the brass ring again. 

The dugout of the New York Yankees, devoid of orange hardhats, tridents, or home-run jackets—just the place where Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, and Aaron Judge came back to after they hit home runs.

The Mets' starters look abysmal, their pen is led by Devin Williams (nuf ced), $47-mill free-agent signing Bo Bichette (who has an opt out clause) is already being booed, and Pete Alonso is in Baltimore.

Sure, this could all change tomorrow. Or next year. 

Or  will Juan Soto be facing 2039, the final year of his contract, with an array of David Wright, individual honors...and nothing else to show for his big money move?

(Live game update: Mets trail the Nationals, 3-0, in the bottom of the third. Soto was robbed of another home run by the Nats' 6-7 right fielder. D'oh!) 

  

With the appearance of an old Yankee demon, the juju gods suddenly have turned

First, let's acknowledge the 900-pound Babadook in the room. Its name is Nathan Edward Eovaldi, and 10 years ago, he was ours. All ours... 

We didn't know it, but he was the incarnate fulfillment of Cooperstown Cashman's lifelong dream. He was Cashman's self-described "Great White Whale," a search that has consumed the GM's career, from Kei Igawa to Sonny Gray, from Javier Vasquez to Michael Pineda, from Jeff Weaver to - gulp - Carlos Rodon? In this millennium, the Yankees have gone through a generation of would-be Cy Youngs, searching for an Eovaldi, for a lockdown October ace, after letting Eovaldi slide through their fingers, so they could keep Ivan Nova.  

Eovaldi is the one that got away. 

He pitched for the Yankees in 2025-26, going 14-3 in his first year, leading the AL in winning percentage. He was a workhorse, throwing 154 innings. The next season, he tweaked an elbow into his 125th inning, leading to Tommy John surgery, and the Yankees cut bait.  

They have regretted it ever since.

Eovaldi has two World Series rings - with Texas and, grr, Boston - a 9-1 postseason record, two All-Star games, and 105 wins - with a big game reputation and a warhorse mentality, while treating the Yankees like a pair of reusable Depends. It led to yesterday's shutout, which was as predictable as David Wells' gout. 

All who have lived through the Great Yankee Drought - now into its 17th year without a ring - knew that Eovaldi yesterday would shut us down. But we didn't anticipate that he would plunk the Martian, maybe fracture his elbow, and sink the good vibes of Jasson Dominguez's return from Scranton, only hours after the team released OF Randal Grichuk. 

Listen: These things don't happen randomly. They slow-cook on a cosmic burner, quietly bubbling through the efforts of hateful, minimum-wage juju gods, who are cringey, obese chain smokers with bad acne and sciatica, and who are not allowed, by law, to live near elementary schools. They have mistreated the Yankees for 16 also-ran seasons. You might have thought that, at age 36, Eovaldi's cursed arm would run out of gas. But you cannot throw away the Babadook. It just keeps returning. 

Somewhere out there, in Albert Einstein's vast infundibulum of space and time, there is a wondrous Yankee paradise where the team kept Nathan Eovaldi, and has now won multiple world championships. In this place, the Dodgers are no longer the apex predator. But that's not here. This is the world of Chance Adams and Justice Sheffield. This is the era of Domingo German and J.A. Happ. This is the time of the Babadook, and - damn - apparently, he's not done.

GameThread–No longer Red–Elmer gets the Ball

 A BRIEF NOTE:  

PERHAPS NOW, WITH WINNY BACK, WE'LL FINALLY

KNOW FOR SURE THAT, IT IS IN FACT A WIN WHEN, 

THE YANKEES WIN.

The old and gray Yankees might actually be secretly harboring a youth movement.

In this decade, the AL East has become the Division of Eternal Youth, an incubation chamber for future stars. 

Toronto launched in 2022 with Alejandro Kirk, Bo Bichette, Alek Manoa and Vlad "I'll Never Be a Yankee" Jr. Then came Baltimore, with Adley Rutschman Gunnar Henderson, Jackson Holliday and Admiral Mountcastle. Last year begot Boston, led by Mookie Wilson, Rafael Devers, Chris Sale Roman Anthony. And was there ever a season when hateful Tampa wasn't a raging pimples outbreak of reckless youth? Only the Yankees - the team of skin tags and liver spots - moved with the creakiness of sciatica. 

And yet today, the Death Barge looks like the youth invasion that our rivals were supposed to bring. Consider... 

1. Ben Rice. Despite a three-game hiccup (1-for-11 in Texas) Rice has already produced numbers - 10 HRs -worthy of half a season. He has become a decent fielding 1B and the left-handed bat that complements Aaron Judge (until Cody and Jazz get their shit together.) He just turned 26.

2. Cam Schlittler. He won again last night. Six innings, three hits, no runs. He is second in the AL in ERA, with 1.51. If the All-Star Game were this week, he could start. Sky's the limit. He recently turned 25.

3. Elmer Rodriguez. A former Redsock, he will start today in Texas. He was killing it in Scranton - a 1.27 ERA and 26 percent K rate. He'll face Nathan Eovaldi, who always murders us, so... beware. Elmer - the future glue of the rotation - is 22.

4. The Martian. Jasson Dominguez is back, 1-for-8 since his promotion. He'll stay as long as Giancarlo's calf stays tweaked - ha! Did someone mention Wally Pipp? But last night, after Trent Grisham gang-tackled the left-center wall, the Yankiverse received a jolting reminder of how quickly our needs can change.  He's 23.

5. George Lombard Jr. He is now an official Scrantonian - promoted last night after going 0-for-3 in a Double A game. Last year, Lombard rose quickly and flamed out, so let's just see how this goes. Still, he's now one step from the Show, they say his glove is MLB-ready, and he's the next big thing. He's 20.

6. Spencer Jones. Last night for Scranton, he homered twice, now tied for 3rd in the International League, with 7. He's hitting .242 and still strikes out too much, but in those moments when Grisham lay dazed on the warning track, Jones suddenly was our new Malcom in the Middle. He's 24.

7. Anthony Volpe - our grand old man of youth! - went 0-3 last night for Scranton. You may suffer from Volpe Derangement Syndrome, but he'll get one last shot at the Yankee infield. Who knows? He turned 25 this week.

8. Austin Wells. He gets overlooked, batting 9th and hitting .200. He's been a low palpitation prospect since drafted in the first round of 2020. He's got 3 HRs - he won't be the next Jorge - but he's a regulation MLB catcher. That's not nothing. He's 26. 

I know, I know... I'm drunk on the ambrosia of a win streak. But close your eyes, and you can almost see a high school teen melodrama staring Sydney Sweeney and Dax Kilbry. Wait? WTF's happening with Dax
?

Future events such as these will affect you in the future

So far so good. Which of course means so far so relatively good, considering.

We sit atop the AL East with only Tampa breathing down our necks. Our record is precisely 1/2 game behind Atlanta and LA for the best record in major league baseball.

And now, a word about major league baseball.

Jesus, does it suck this year. At least in the American League, our ancestral home. Look at every single team aside from us and the Rays. EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TEAM. They all vacillate between complete mediocrity and somewhat worse.

The AL Central and AL West? What year is this? Detroit is in first with a .500 record, Oakland...er, Sacramento...er, Vegas...er, Pluto is one game above. Championships await!

We look at the East and assume that Baltimore (or Bmore), Toronto, and maybe, somehow, improbably, Boston (Has anybody seen our old friend Boston? Can you tell me where they've gone?) will come around and start kicking ass to challenge for the division. But why? Yes, I believe it, too, but I have no concrete reason aside from reversion to the mean, given their rosters. But what if this is their mean this year? What if they go the way of Scherzer?

Future questions that will affect us in the future.

Meanwhile, there are questions about us. As Carl pointed out, Michael Kay seems to seriously doubt that bringing back Volpe is a good idea, at least until Cabbie hits a slump. He's right, which means Cashman will do the opposite.That's one spanner in the works.

On the other hand, Lombard just got promoted to triple-A. Hmmm.

Stanton is already down. Can Judge put in another healthy season? One has to wonder.

Bednar? Our white-knuckle "closer"? Yeah, well. And then there's Camilo DaVille. Jesus Christ on a bike, how much rope do they give this guy? We'll lose games if Cashman puts his ego above winning.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! But of course Cashman will put his ego above winning! Which is why Volpe is coming back ASAP. And Jones will languish in AAA, while a slugger like St. Judge is allowed to strike out over and over, with impunity, in between his awe-inspiring at-bats. Something Jones may well be able to do, too. Judge will also hit for average, so we won't have two guys doing what Jones does. Myself, I'm kind of torn about Jones. But hey, ya never know.

Think we can release Goldie when he runs out of gas (assuming he has gas now)? Yeah, I dunno. Cashman.

And Boone is an idiot. That will continue to lose games for us.

None of this is news to any of you, I know. I don't illuminate insightful aspects of our present or future. I just get up in the middle of your night and have time on my hands. Sorry.

But we have Fried and Schlittler. Possible glimmers from Weathers and Warren. Elmer is starting today, and he's got to be better than Gil (famous last words). Maybe we'll see him hit 105 on the radar gun. As for Cole and Rodon, will they be any good when they get back? Will it take too long for them to scrape off the rust? Is Cole getting a little old for this kind of thing? Could, as Carl and others suggest, we bring up Lagrange?

The big question: do we sink into the mediocrity that surrounds us? Does that mediocrity turn into greatness?

The future is all there in front of us. Somewhere.

GaGaGa Game Thread – April Twenty Eighth Two Thousand and Twenty Six

 Boone's gunna be here forever

LAME!

He'll never learn how to coach

LAME!

No matter how hard we try to

LAME!

We'll never forget his damn name

LAME!

The Rumfield Report!

 

"Oh, I can gather all the news I need on the Rumfield Report..."

Our known knowns, thus far:  

After a red-hot start to the season, Toby Joseph "T.J." Rumfield has settled into a comfortable .250/.327/.400/.727 with your Colorado Rockies, including 4 doubles, a triple, 3 home runs, 11 walks (against only 13 strikeouts), and 16 RBI—all figures that would make him the monster of the Yankees' bottom half of the lineup.

Recently seen in NYC during the Rockies' sweep of the Mets, the Scranton refugee went 1-9, with a single and an RBI; walked three times, and struck out twice.

On the other hand, Colorado went ahead for good in Game 1 of their Sunday doubleheader, when the Metsies threw wild on what looked like the double-play grounder he had hit. Gee, putting the ball in play—what a concept! 

And in the nightcap, when it seemed as though the Amazin's might actually score, putting two men on base with none out in the fifth, Rumfield made a nice, leaping catch of a Tyrone Taylor line drive, to turn an unassisted double-play.

That play epitomizes Rumfield's chief strengths: his relative athleticism, and his ability to field.

Thus far, T.J. has yet to miss a game, and he has had 117 chances at first without an error.

I still maintain that if he had been at first base in the 2024 World Series instead of a washed-up, immobilized Anthony Rizzo, we would have escaped the Fatal Fifth Inning of Game Five, and maybe even rallied to win the Series against a badly injured Dodgers team.