Three Reasons Why This Is The First Season In Sixty Years That I Just Don’t Care About Opening Day...

And Three Reasons Why I Will Probably Watch Anyway.

1) The Game Is Exclusive To Peacock 

Disclosure:  Comcast is my internet provider and, as a “Thank you for being a loyal customer “ perk,  I get to stream Peacock for free. It still pisses me off... 

Opening Day is a national holiday for baseball fans. It shouldn’t be walled off and shoved on a marginal streaming channel in the hopes that fans are desperate enough to sign up for it. 

Contractual obligations prevent the Yankees from showing their own opening day on their own network.  Consequently, most of my friends will be forced to skip it even though they pay for YES. 

Instead, Yankee fans who can access the game will have to put up with an overblown, overhyped, second tier announcing team from Peacock instead of Michael Kay and...  Uh.. forget I wrote that. 

BTW the second game of the season is on FOX. Oh joy, we get to start our season with confirmed Yankee hater John Smoltz. 

So, to recap, even if you pay for the “privilege” of  watching the Yankees, you still can’t watch either of the first two games on the network you pay for.  

That’s bullshit.

It’s also short sighted. Taking away access to important games doesn’t get us to spend more. It gets us used to the idea that not watching baseball isn’t the end of the world.

As an aside... 

YES is now part of Gotham Sports a streaming channel that offers all the NY area teams (except the Mets) for an inflated price because you get all the NY teams (except the Mets).

One problem. If you like the Knicks you probably don’t give a crap about the Nets. Not to mention that quite often they are on at the same time so getting Nets games is virtually useless.

Same thing with the Rangers, Islanders, Devils.  Whichever team you are a fan of you are paying extra for teams you would never watch.

And don’t get me started on Bronx Buds.

2) The Yankees Claim To Be Running It Back 

Running it back means nothing new to root for. No new free agents of note. They demoted the young guys and aren't bringing anyone up. 

They were boring last year. They will be boring this year. 

Right now the biggest thing to look forward to is Cole and Rodon returning and hoping they are some form of effective. 

Plus, the team is actually worse. 

Replacing Jasson Dominguez because he can't hit lefties with a guy who can’t hit at all is short sighted. 

Maybe it's because he's short. I suspect that’s why they got rid of future big-time thorn in our side, Caleb Durbin.

No matter how many times we collectively say that Hal and Pal suck it doesn’t make it any easier to take.

3)  The Team Makes Me Sad

El Duque mentioned earlier that the Yankees have demoted pretty much everyone who smiles, well except Jazz, and he's a matter of taste.  

Judge, undeservedly so, is becoming a tragic figure based on a narrative that isn’t really true. It just seems true and now, no matter how well he plays during the year, and he should be great again, best player we’ve ever seen, it’s going to be six months until he get’s a chance to undo it.

Every time Goldschmidt or Stanton are in the line up we are just waiting for the inevitable injury.

And then there's the sinking feeling that no matter how well Caballero plays he will be replaced by Volpe as soon as they can bring him back.   

Meh.

---

I will probably watch anyway...  

It's Opening Day. 

I have access to the game. 

Tradition dies hard. 

---

But I won't enjoy it. Unless they win. I like when they win. 

Who's on first? Who's on second? Who's on third? Who's running this show, Abbott or Costello?

Lately, you hear a lotta buzz about that all-star Yankee OF - Cody, Grish, the Captain and - gulp, um - Randal "You're a mean one, Mr." Grichuk! 

Overcrowded, right? Until it's not. 

But maybe we should start pondering the unponderable - the 2026 Yankee infield, home to some of the most volatile question marks in recent years. You'd think Abbott & Costello were managing this team.

Who's on first? Well, Ben Rice, obviously. On most teams, he'd be the fulltime 1B, ready for a breakout season - 30 to 40 HRs. But but BUT the Yankees recently signed Paul Goldschmidt, creating a platoon situation, which will sharply limit Rice's at-bats. Now, he'll play, say, every other game, and maybe be replaced by pinch hitters in late innings. 

Goldy is a future Hall of Famer and a jolly good fellow - solid handshake, always flushes the toilet, remembers your mom's birthday - but he's in the twilight of his career. This looks to be Rice's defining season. Are the Yankees really going to platoon him? Shades of Ron Bloomberg. 

Who's on second? Well, Jazz Chisholm, obviously. Guy hit 31 HRs last year, stole 31 bases, even though he hit only .242. You'd think we're set. But  but BUT... Chisholm spent the winter ruminating about a long-term contract, which the Yankees did not offer. I wonder if that discussion is over. 

If Jazz starts off hot - a problem we'd love - he's gonna start talking about his future. And if he begins cold - and as Athony Volpe and Oswaldo Cabrera get closer - Chisholm's contract could become another distraction. I'm not saying the Yankees should give him a deal, just that it could be a silent storm inside every discussion.   

Who's on shortstop? Well, Jose Caballero, obviously! For now, anyway. The Yankees - inexplicably - still seem to believe in Volpe, who could be back around June. Then there's George Lombard Jr, down in Scranton, looking to escape. 

Caballero should do fine, for a while. But can he hold up over a regular season? We'll soon know.

Who's on third? Well, Ryan McMahon, obviously! As far as defense goes, no problem! This guy is the real deal. But McMahon struck out 189 times last year - 7th in all of baseball - (and most of those who fanned more - Schwarber, Devers, Suarez, etc - are far bigger sluggers.) 

The Yankee line has been that McMahon is using a new stance, aimed at putting balls into play. Well, this spring, he's fanned 14 times in 45 ABs. 

Look, everything will be fine, right? Maybe it will all work out...

AND DON'T FORGET TO ADD YOUR YEAR-END PREDICTIONS: 

NUMBER OF YANKEE REGULAR SEASON WINS>
NUMBER OF BEN RICE HRS.
NUMBER OF WINS BY GERRIT COLE.  

Same as it ever was?

 

Something that El Duque wrote in his excellent post about the Yanks' sending down The Martian reminded me that your New York Yankees did exactly that with Mickey Mantle during his rookie season of 1951.

On July 13th, almost precisely halfway through the season, they sent The Mick down to their Triple-A, Kansas City Blues farm team. Here he is, seen with manager George "Twinkletoes" Selkirk, an outfield star with the Bombers in the 1930s and '40s.

Today, of course, it would be illegal for players under the age of 21 to be managed by anyone called "Twinkletoes." Mick was still just 19, the all-American phenom out of Commerce, Oklahoma, who had torn up the Cactus League that spring. 

The Yankees of that time, not being run by geniuses such as Brian Cashman and Hal Steinbrenner, decided that they had no choice but to keep him with the club when they went north. But by July, they decided that he needed more seasoning.

Why? 

On July 13th, Mick's batting line was .260/.341/.423/.763—not too shabby for a 19-year-old, pressed into the starting lineup on the biggest stage in sports. He was also leading the team in RBI, with 45. Nor was the team going badly. The Yanks were 46-30, .605 ball, just 1 1/2 games out of first place, behind both shades of Sox. 

So what was the problem?

Well, strikeouts, mostly. The Mick had 52—as opposed to 30 walks—in the 69 games he had played.

Today, that would make him a contact hitter extraordinaire, but at the time it was unacceptable. 

Also, his demotion seems as though it was done in a bit of pique. On that fateful Friday the 13th in July, the Yanks had blown a 6-0 lead to major rival Cleveland, losing 11-8. 

To the untrained eye, this would seem to have been mostly a failure of, oh, I dunno, the pitching? But Mickey struck out three times (against future HOFer Bob Lemon) and he became the fall guy.

Maybe it was an attempt to shake up the club. Maybe it was a decision to try out some of the other remarkable young talent the Yankees had (more on that later), but in any case, Mantle was sent packing to Kansas City. 

Which...shattered him. 

If the New York Yankees of the Great Dynasty were considerably better than the team today at identifying and signing talent, they could be—at times—just as foolish and callous in developing it. An incompetent trainer was allowed to actually burn the feet of The Mick's predecessor in center, no less than Joe DiMaggio. 

And once they had brought Mantle north with the town, they left the hick kid to his own devices, staying in a hotel up in the Bronx. There he was generally lonely and miserable—and predictably fleeced by a con man and his hired floozy. Like Willie Mays, the other new phenom in town, he wiled away the hours playing stickball in the street with the local kids.

(The Giants, by contrast—a team run by a hopeless drunk and casual bigot—nonetheless saw to it that Willie was ensconced in a Harlem boardinghouse run by a mothering older woman, and accompanied everywhere by a retired, local boxer. The Yanks? Not so much.)

Mantle arrived in KC—his second new city in the space of three months—in a deep funk. So much so that his father, Mutt Mantle—dying from his years in the zinc mines—had to be summoned to help. 

He arrived to find a distraught Mickey wanting to quit, to just walk off the team. Mutt braced him up, rather ruthlessly, but at least reminded him of what his alternatives were.

"I thought I raised a man," Mutt told him, starting to pack his son's suitcase. "I see I raised a coward instead. You can come back and work the mines with me."

Mickey got it together, and hit .361 with Kansas City. The Yanks brought him back up on August 24th.

They had not been exactly in a death spiral without him, going 29-16, or .644, while he was away.

For much of that time, DiMaggio was also out with an injury, but the Yanks—with their truly astonishing depth—got by rotating Gene Woodling, Hank Bauer, Jackie Jensen, Bob Cerv, and converted first baseman Joe Collins around the outfield. 

Still, the team was two games out of first on The Mick's return. Mantle seemed to give them an added thrust, as they went 23-10 (.697) the rest of the way, winning their third straight pennant and World Series. (Where Mantle permanently hurt himself stepping into an open sprinkler hole. Hey, what were players? They were interchangeable and infinitely replaceable. Right?)

That fall, Mutt Mantle (real name Elvin Charles Mantle) back in town for the World Series, got to help his son up the hospital steps. He collapsed—and was hospitalized alongside Mick. He was dead of Hodgkins Disease by the next May.

So who will help brace up Jasson Dominguez, if he wants to crawl into a hole when he gets back to Scranton? Is there an El Chucho Dominguez who can fly up and box his son's ears? Of course, The Martian's alternatives—thank God—are no doubt more appealing, starting with the $5.1 million he got as a signing bonus, and the $1.5 million he's made in the game so far. 

But all that means is that Dominguez will be less desperate to make it out of this silly, dysfunctional Yankees organization of today. For that matter, while the Yanks' front office of 1951 could be as cruel and indifferent as it is today, the organization was at least threaded with some of the best instructors, managers and coaches, in all of baseball. 

Not so much now. 

Is The Martian another Mickey Mantle? I doubt it—but then, who is? And Trent Grisham is sure as hell not Joe DiMaggio. Or Gene Woodling. Or Hank Bauer, who once held a record for the consecutive-game hitting streak in the World Series. Or Jackie Jensen, a future MVP. Or Bob Cerv, a lifetime .276 hitter who once belted 38 homers and hit .305 in a season. 

It sez here that the Yanks don't have the depth to drop The Martian—OR Spencer Jones—back in Scranton. That Food Stamps Hal ought to finally swallow the money remaining on Tennis Elbows Stanton, and send Randal Woodchuck back to Punxsutawney or wherever he's from, and let the two prospects battle for a spot. 

But hey, who are we to question Hal & Pal?

  

 

It's time to lay down your predictions for 2026

You're a mean one, Mr. Grich...

Of course, I mean Randal Grichuk, the non-roster free agent who has finally broken the six-year reign of Jasson Dominguez - aka, the Martian - as the Yankees' great hope. 

Nope. This is the Year of the Grich, whose RH platoon bat has chased the Martian to Scranton, or Wilkes Barre, or maybe Kansas City. Last year, he was our future star. This year, shall his name even be spoken aloud?

Randal is the new Jasson, Aaron Judge is the new A-Rod, Jose Cabalero is the new Volpe and Oswaldo - dear Oswaldo Cabrera - is the new Oswald Peraza. (He's also headed to Scranton.) For a team that generally stood pat this winter, the Yankees sure have managed to bleach their roster of hopeful smiles. 

Meanwhile, in Boston, all systems are GO for Caleb Durbin to become a fireplug, Yankee-hating 3B. In Toronto, Vlad Jr. has made his bones as a postseason star. In Baltimore, the Polar Bear has arrived, and in Tampa, the Rays now proudly play in "GMS Stadium," abbreviating the name of their host, (though unabbreviated sewers could still give Old George the last laugh.) 

Here comes 2026 - a year of wars, midterms, natural disasters and A.I. 

As for the Yankees, only God knows. 

Wait... God and you. 

It's time to show the world how pessimistic, dour, hopeless rooted we all are. 

Between now and Wednesday, put down into the comments sections your predictions for the 2026 Yankee sayer of sooth contest. The winner takes bragging rights in all conversations across the Yankiverse. 

Wednesday, I'll render unto humanity my predictions. In the meantime, here are the three categories. 

1. Number of Yankee regular season wins. (Playoffs don't count.)

2. First tie-breaker: Number of HRs that Ben Rice will hit in 2026. (On Yankees or with another team.)

3. Second tie-breaker: Number of games Gerrit Cole will win.

Last year, here were the predictions. 

Okay, everybody. You know the drill. Pour your insights into the comments sections, and I'll put together the prediction board. Remember all those games that didn't matter? They're about to disappear. Have at it!

Despite a solid spring training, The Martian has been farmed out. Could it ruin him?

Damn. 

They really did it. 

All this time, I thought it was a bluff. They were trying to scare him, to light a fire in him, to push his buttons. Somehow, around now, they'd find a way to keep him. 

It might be an outfield injury, or they'd simply punt on Randal Grichuk. Somehow, Jasson Dominguez would return, as he'd do in almost any other organization in baseball. 

Nope. They did it. They farmed him out. 

So... what next? Dunno. But he's 22, people. He's ready. And don't let them wave the shiny object, Dax Kilby, in our eyes: Dominguez remains the most important prospect in the Yankee organization. He has speed, he has power, and he hit .257 last year, 45 points higher than the perennial returnee, Anthony Volpe. 

And they have sent him to Scranton. 

I know what they say: Dominguez needs to play every day. I get it. I agree... sorta. But the guy needs to play in the Majors, not Scranton. And by discarding him, I fear they are playing with fire. 

Mark these words: He won't do well there. We'll watch every at-bat, mull every line-score, and lament every strikeout. No matter how you slice it, a guy who should be playing MLB will be toiling in Triple A, disillusioned and depressed, all because he didn't fit into some front office algorithm based on platoons and contracts. It happens commonly with the Yankees. If this front office was running the 1951 Yankees, they would have dispensed with the young outfielder who hit .267, because the kid - Mantle - was no Randal Grichuk. 

Hopefully, sometime, around July, Dominguez will return. But I think there is a very real chance that he disappears, permanently, in a deadline trade package. For six years, Yank fans will have watched him rise, only to see the Yankee brain trust exile him to Nowhere. 

He's gone, folks. Damn. I didn't think it would really happen. 

Saturday, March 28th, 2026 – NY Yankees √s SF Giants – 4:15 PM

 "I want ABOVE AVERAGE thrown out of Oracle or I will pull my players off the field !"

Dear Yankiverse, please, please, PLEASE: Stop blaming Aaron Judge for the WBC

This week, crusty Bob Klapisch - the last of the Gammonites, a race of begotten scribes, descendant from the Smiths, Lardners, Rices and Holtzmans - donned his acrylic tweeds and typed... 

"Yankees fans know there’s a flip-side to No. 99’s greatness. His slumps can be monstrous, and they often occur at the worst time. It’s not Judge’s fault the Yankees are in a 16-year championship drought, but his career .236 average in the postseason is nevertheless a recurring blemish."

Here's another recurring blemish: An army of Commenters on "X," who raged agreement. Once, these people tweeted. Now, they X-crete. In this case, thousands bellowed because Judge didn't single-handedly win the World Baseball Classic. 

As everybody knows, in the championship game against Venezuela, Judge went 0-4 with three Ks. As Captain of Team USA, Number 99 shoulders the largest boulder from that toothless finale. The prevailing sentiment - "same Judge as always" - brought comparisons to Alex Rodriguez (surgically forgetting 2009, when - juiced of not - A-Rod carried the Yankees to their last championship.)  

People, we gotta get real...  

1. Judge is the greatest Yankee slugger in our lifetimes. Better than Reggie. Better than Roger. Better than Pauly O'Neill. He goes into the conversation with Derek Jeter as the greatest Yankee... Period. At 33, he has two, maybe three, Judgeian seasons left. We better appreciate him, because - like Jete - there aint nobody gonna replace this guy. Nobody.  

2. With the exception of Bryce Harper, who had done nothing in the WBC, all of Team America sucked in that final game. The five batters after Judge went a combined 0-13 with 5 Ks. The championship game was a nine-inning season, and - let's admit it - Venezuela had the bullpen. The lack of hitting was the norm, not an outlier. 

3. The WBC is over. Let it go. Every hopeful scenario for the 2026 Yankees depends on Judge having another great year. That means hitting .300, blasting 50 HRs and driving in 130. If he succeeds, the Yankees will be fine. If he fails, we're cooked.  

Listen: We are he luckiest fans on the face of the earth: We have Aaron Judge. Let the ghost of Jimmy Cannon rest in peace. And let the ancient one, Mr. Klapisch, deliver the rightful words, even if they come in obits.

SOMETHING sure has SPOOKED HAL !

 I wonder what it could have been ?

DON'T PANIC! MLB's deal with its new "prediction market partner" Polymarket includes a "COMPREHENSIVE INTEGRITY FRAMEWORK!”

But don't take my word for it. See for yourself!

Oh, and Polymarket's CEO is the world's youngest billionaire at 27. Fiend-in-training? Junior Antichrist fighter? 

The Athletic just published its roster of Best MLB Players Under Age 25. The Yankees have nobody on it. (But they do have Gerrit Cole.)

All year, sun or clouds, the Yankiverse rains nonstop, felony-grade hype upon its fans. It's a Honey Mustard, Sea Salt & Vinegar, with Barbecue Flavor Crystals and slathered in Secret Sauce. It's Schlittler, Lagrange, the Martian! Throughout the month of March, we drink heartily from the trough and sing, "These little town blues are melting awaaaay..." 

But they don't melt away. They linger. And while we do have hopefuls - Dax Kilby is the latest to be marketed like an Amazon Mystery Box - our farm system ranks 25th (in MLB), behind the Dodgers (2nd), Mets (8th) and every other organization in the AL East. By most accounts, the Yankees are a tired old team, past its sell-bye date, which should be playing canasta rather than baseball.  

Today's Athletic - sports off-ramp for the NY Times - offers a roster of the Best MLB Players Under Age 25. It's a glimpse into the industry's future. These are the Skenes, the Anthonys, the Crow-Armstrongs, players who are already stars, who will likely shape the next decade. 

Not only did no Yankee make this team, but nobody appears on the list of Honorable Mentions. No Martian. No Schlittler. No Jones. Zip. Zero. Nada. Nobody. A full-stop swing and miss.

Meanwhile, Boston and Baltimore both list three players (including Honorable Mentions), the Mets have two, and Toronto and Tampa add one, each. 

Full disclosure: I hate these rankings. The are bogus, crapola click-bait, always laced with caveats such as "if he stays healthy" and "possible breakout." Screw that. Who isn't a possible breakout? The reason we hear about Dax Kilby is that - unlike most Yank prospects - he "broke out" last year. If anybody in our system hits, he'll vault to the top of our shit-pile faster than you can say Zolio Almonte. 

But the Yankees are old and getting older, and - age-wise, at least - closer to a collapse than a breakout. 

On that happy note, yesterday, Gerrit Cole pitched a shutout inning. He gave up two hits and slithered out of a jam. It didn't matter. He was just showing off. My guess is that if a ball were hit to first base, Cole would point to the bag, rather than run to it. (That's a joke.)

He's got a long way back, and one raging question remains: Is he a Justin Verlander, or a Tim Lincecum? That is, can he develop a second career as the wise-old pitcher, powered by guile and bile? Or will his fall be sharp, painful and instant? Once his fastball loses a few mph, will he be done? We donno. But we will soon learn.

Somewhere out there, there exists - in theory - a roster of the Best MLB Players Over 35. The Yankees should dominate it. So, where to, from here?

Yeah, but we got Devin Williams

 

From the article: "Durbin has impressed both with his bat and with his defense during spring training. He is hitting .394 in 33 at-bats through Tuesday and has 7 RBIs and 3 stolen bases."

Well, that's okay. We don't need a third baseman who can both hit and play defense.

Now, where did we put that Williams guy...

In it's dramatic surge toward relevance, the 2026 World Baseball Classic lacked one thing: Owners.

Were he still alive, John Lennon would be 85. And I gotta think he'd have watched the recent World Baseball Championship and felt compelled to re-tweak a lyric... 

Imagine there's no owners,
It's easy if you try, 
No Musk, no tech bro donors,
No Hal, no Stevie Cohen guy.. 

Imagine: We just witnessed a wild, frenzied, global baseball tournament without discussions of contracts and salary dumps - no trade ultimatums, no free agent deadlines. Last night, America lost a close one. Today, nobody will get traded to Panama. 

We got to watch something we might never again experience: A set of games played purely for emotion, with one element of modern sports missing: 

Owners. 

(Note: Also you could say Tarik Skubal was missing; he might have made a difference. Then again, he's a free agent this fall, so... you know...) 

We watched a world series - a real world series - without once flashing upon some luxury skybox, where a scowling billionaire pawed his trophy wife - an Epstein-ian age difference - whose kewpie doll face, bloated from injections, will take 10,000 years to degrade.  

We can talk about Trump, or doofus Democrats, but it's the billionaires who own America - and baseball. These spiritual and intellectual giants of humanity define success with superyachts and sports teams. Over the last two weeks, never once did Redsock fans need to think about John Henry raising their ticket prices. Nor did Marlin fans have to ponder Bruce Sherman, MLB's cheapest owner. Or John Fisher, who tortured the good people of Oakland for three years, before ripping out his team and moving to Vegas. Or Hal - (insert your own diatribe here) - or Stevie Cohen, who transcends everything. Never once...

For two weeks, we got to watch pure passion, and nothing more. No budgets, no salary caps, no Scott Boras, no Juan Soto - (wait, there was one, but he didn't even look the same) - just grown up little leaguers, playing for their neighborhoods, rather than their private jets. 

Well, it's over. Congrats to Venezuela, and thank you, World Baseball Classic, for reminding us of what we're missing. Before this tournament began, I was not a believer in the WBC. But you know what? There are things worth fighting for, beyond money.  

You may say I'm a dreamer,
But I'm not the only one...  

Game Thread: WBC Finals USA vs. Venezuela

 

For all the marbles!

In the spirit of friendly wagering I heard Trump and whomever he left in power have a side bet. 

Winner gets a tanker of oil unless Venezuela wins in which case the game was obviously fixed and the US gets a tanker of oil.

What's on second, but where is it exactly?

MLB says it's not where it should be, and hasn't been for way over a century. Between the bigger bases and repositioning second base to put it fully within the diamond, the basepaths from first to second and second to third will be only 87 feet. (They're trying this out in a minor league this year.) That's a big difference for baserunners and infielders..

Maybe second has been where it really should be all this time, and the half-in, half-out location was chosen to make the paths closer to equal all the way around the diamond (which the bigger bases has fucked up somewhat already).

It always seemed fine up until now. But MLB, you know. Geniuses.

 

“I want to say it’s been bigger than the World Series. I would say the crowd here and the crowd we had when we played against Mexico, it’s bigger and better than the World Series. The passion that these fans have, representing their country, representing some of their favorite players, there’s nothing like it.”

Uh-oh. Sirens! What's happening? Drone attack? Mass shooting? A celebrity down?  

Nope. Be calm. 

Aaron Judge has dropped a truth bomb on America. 

He said aloud what everybody is thinking: 

Suddenly, the World Baseball Classic matters. 

It wasn't always this way. Remember when nobody cared? The WBC was a fart, a bridge to March Madness, a distraction to the critical questions: do we go with Jake Bird or Angel Chivilli? When we talked about the WBC, we discussed our major fears: A tweaked gonad or overworked pitch count. The WBC mattered even less than spring games, which mattered nothing at all. 

And yet... this week, we saw veteran stars dance like teenyboppers. We saw old-timers leap dugout railings, as if the world suddenly encountered the intersection of human nature with pro sports.  

You cannot buy hunger. 

And nobody worth $300 million ever truly sweats a loss, as long as the next bank transfer pings on time. 

Yesterday's words from the Captain of Team America - and, cough, the Yankees - should not affect Judge's standing. Truth is truth. The WBC is more appealing, more genuine, more memorable, than anything we'll see until maybe mid-September, when the pennant race means life and death (in that figurative way.)  There are other reasons... 

1. The WBC lets fans root for players we otherwise miss, or worse, hate. We can close our eyes and imagine Bryce Harper as a Yankee (because he shoulda been one, dammit.) And Roman Anthony. And Gunner Henderson. Fuck, the whole damn team should be Yankees. Oh, well..

2. It raises an undercurrent of geopolitical realities. You felt it in USA v Canada, and USA v Mexico. We would have definitely felt it in a game against Cuba, or the Netherlands (winner takes Greenland!) Now... USA v Venezuela. Yikes. In a strange way, this game does matter. 

3. Soon, MLB and YES will launch their nightly fodder. And with nothing better to do, I will watch. The Yankees have been a thread running throughout my life. No matter how pissed I get at them, there is always a Cam Schlittler or Oswaldo Cabrera. (Wait. Anybody got a bead on Osvaldo Bido?) 

The WBC reminds MLB stars what it's like to be 12-year-olds, to play for family and the universe, and live on the edge. In the WBC, each day is a month, and each month is a lifetime. 

Judge just spake the truth. Good for him. We cannot buy hunger. Why did anybody ever think otherwise? 

And now, for something different...

You may not know this, but for the last nine years, I've moonlighted as CEO/King Cheese at AHOY Comics, the world's most delightful indie publishing house. Along with Mustang - who goes by the name "Peyer" - we have birthed great and totally weird comic books unto humankind, much in the way that Yangervis Solarte hit MLB pitching during the first month of his Yankee career. Until now, I have never mentioned an AHOY book, fearing it might distract us from our core mission: Celebrating the victories of the Yankee front office.   

Well, today... fukkit. I hereby break ranks. It's a graphic novel titled THE FORGOTTEN DIVINE, written by Eisner-award winner Mark Russell, and drawn by Russell Braun, the artist behind the most successful superhero satire in history, The Boys. 

We're breaking it out in a Kickstarter campaign.

Take my word: It's a masterpiece.

Go to the link and try something new. If everybody here joins in - you know, clap your hands and Tinker Bell will be saved! - who knows, maybe Spencer Jones will get the call from Scranton.  

Either way, this is the one. 

Team USA's run in the WBC should make Yank fans thankful... and nervous

Last night, while the gods of Tinsel Town self-pleasured, Team USA eaked out a victory over the mighty Dominican Republic, the most baseball-crazy nation on earth. With Japan eliminated, America's path to the 2026 World Baseball Classic looks to be festooned with group hugs and product endorsements. It's all over but the buying.

Seriously, after toppling Dominica, does anybody fear Venezuela or Italy? 

But but BUT... last night's victory - (by Team America, not Team Leonardo) - should provoke angst across the Yankiverse.

USA won on HRs by Gunner Henderson and Roman Anthony, two young, ascending stars who look to be long-term Yankee migraines. Both hit their second HRs of the tourney - either could be its MVP - and both could enjoy a breakout 2026 regular season. 

Henderson, 24, is returning from a down year, when he hit a mere 17 HRs and batted .274. (His first full seasons, he hit 28 and 37, and he's a career .270.) He'll play SS for Baltimore and, for the first time, be protected in the lineup (by Pete Alonso.)  If Henderson rebounds - a likelihood, based on what we're seeing - the O's will vastly improve. 

Then there is Anthony, age 21, coming off a short season that should terrify Yank fans. In June, shortly after belting a 497-foot grand slam - the longest HR recorded in professional baseball last year -Anthony was unveiled in Fenway, the youngest new Redsock since Rafael Devers. He hit .292 with 8 HRs before tweaking a lat and missing the playoffs. Had he faced the Yankees in that short series, well, I shudder to think about it. 

Both are rising stars, capable of transforming a lineup. (Boston has signed Anthony to a long-term contract that expires in 2034.) And if you hope for the Yankee franchise response - well - good luck with that! We have The Martian and Spencer Jones, both moving in reverse. Either could soon be traded for, well - you've heard of A.I. Slop? Yank fans know of Cashman Slop.

Listen: The problem with the 2026 Yankees is not that they stayed pat with last year's playoff-bound roster. 

The problem with the 2026 Yankees is that they stayed pat with last year's playoff-bound roster... while the rest of the AL East improved. 

So, let's celebrate Team America. But be prepared to look back... and wince. 

USA wins, ump goes back to day job