Marcus Stroman deletes his - GASP! - Instagram profile. What does it mean? WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

Long ago, the great philosopher/poet Ed Ames summed it up...

High upon a lonely ledge
A figure teeters near the edge
And jeering crowds collect below
To egg him on with, "Go, man, go!"
But who will ask what led him
To his private day of doom,
And who will answer...

Who. Will. Answer. Not me. But today's sleuths of the Yankiverse face a mystery unlike all others: The fate of Marcus Stroman, of his Instagram profile, and of the remaining $18 million on his contract, which Team Cashman seems determined to cast overboard. Go, man, go... 

We've been here before, eh? Like... every fucking winter?  Wasn't it last January when the Death Barge brain trust desperately shopped around Carlos Rodon, like a YA novel pitch from Diddy? As it had done previously with Sonny Gray, with Nathan Eovaldi, with Lance Lynn, with all the other disappeared? 

Last October, Stroman was royally dissed, when the Yankees shelved him. Now, he's poster boy for 2025's Cashman Scapegoat Syndrome, as the franchise seeks someone to blame for its most recent failure. But the Yankees always need a scapegoat.

Yesterday, Stroman deleted his online presence. Who cares? Probably, the next team that gets him. Because he'll have something prove. He'll be the latest in a train of players who grew up loving the Yankees, and now push voodoo pins into them. 

Stroman's 2024 season was disappointing. But here's the rub: It wasn't THAT bad.

He finished 3rd on the team in wins and innings pitched, 4th in strikeouts and games started. Yeah, at times, he fell apart. So did Cole. So did Gil. So did Schmidt. So did Rodon. No Yankee pitcher lasted the year without a meltdown. Stoman's coincided with October.

So, no Instagram? He's deleted his Yankee logo. WTF does it mean? 

Well, it means he's gone, and he knows it. It means the Yankees have once again devalued a trade chip, just as they look for a deal. It means he'll have something to prove in 2025. It means the Yankees will open camp with five starters and Clayton Beeter. And it means the Yankees are still blaming bad contracts on the players, not the guy who writes them. Insert sigh here. And take it away, Ed...

If the soul is darkened
By a fear it cannot name
If the mind is baffled when
The rules don't fit the game
Who will answer, who will answer
Who will answer

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...

RIP Bob Uecker

 

A genuinely funny man and a great announcer. Who among us hasn't said, "Just a bit outside." at least once? 

I just watched this Tonight Show clip, "genuinely funny" is an understatement. He takes a minute or so to warm up but after that he just kills it. 

The card of a card on the Cards. 

He will be missed. 

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?