So, it's official: The World Baseball Classic totally messed up Aaron Judge, and Netflix doesn't know how to interview anybody

 

You could foresee it, when they named him Captain of Team America. 

Captain? Here, you had a veteran lineup, full of stars, and the last thing it needed was somebody acting like King Tut. He didn't ask for it. They just anointed him.

(Maybe they should have named Tarik Skubal "Admiral." Maybe he would have pitched one more game?)

Early on, they asked for a speech. He hemmed and hawed. They were like wedding ushers, banging spoons against the snifters. They demanded a speech, which he botched. 

Their reaction: More hype. Heavier praise, grander accolades, more crapola. Now, he wasn't just the best player on the Yankees, or the best hitter on Team America, or the best slugger slugger in baseball. He was the best ever, the greatest of all time, and we should open the Hall now, rather than wait. 

Then came his final game in the WBC: 0 for 4 with three Ks and enough stranded runners to win the tournament.

And then came last night's new incarnation: A return to California as the prodigal son, and poster boy for a Netflix cultural power grab. 

And here's what America saw: 

Bad Aaron. 

Yep. We saw Judge, lunging at balls in the dirt, watching strikes right down the middle, unable to check faulty swings, then trudging back to the dugout, bat in hand, turning once to acknowledge his hopelessness. 

The Judge we've seen, off and on, throughout his career. 

The dirty little secret about baseball's greatest player: He goes through stretches where he couldn't hit your Aunt Gladys's fastball with a tennis racket. It's a lucky game when the Yankees can absorb a Judgean 0-for-5, and still win. And really, let's be thankful that, last night, he didn't waste a 9th inning HR to make the score 8-0. Those are the events that drive Yank fans crazy. 

Judge will come around. But clearly, the World Baseball Classic - and the overbearing hype of playing opening day in his geographical back yard - has messed him up. 

As for Netflix, what did you expect? Everything was hype. Everything. 

At one point, around the 5th, they wheeled in Rob Manfred, the Commissioner of Hell, to be interviewed by CC Sabathia and Hunter Pence, swooning like OAN interns at a Melania photo-op. They were literally giggling with anticipation, claiming to have stayed up the previous night - I'm not making this up, they had been like first-night college freshmen, going over the pig book - thinking of great questions to ask. Then Manfred sat down, and the interrogation began:

Do you remember your first Opening Day?

My God. They didn't ask about rule changes, which now happen every season. They didn't ask about the impending lockout next winter, which threatens the future of baseball. They didn't ask about expansion, or salary caps, or A.I. umpires, or elbow surgeries, doctored bats, lost statistical frameworks - whatever you wanted to hear about - they didn't ask it, and their reaction to whatever Manfred blathered was to act the San Diego Chicken oogling a cheerleader. 

Insert sigh here.

Well, here's what we can say about last night.

1. We won.

2. Judge got it out of his system.

3. It's over. 

First place in the AL East, baby. Check it out!

Game Thread – San Francisco, CA – Opening Day – Caption Away

 "I'm so sorry Aaron but they just won't trade you here."

Goodbye Cruel World, It's Opening Day

The gods place bets with loaded dice
And all our earthly dreams betray,
But listen to one clown's advice,
Goodbye, cruel world; it’s opening day.

The politicians scrounge for power,
With consequences we shall pay.
But somewhere, it's our finest hour,
Goodbye, cruel world; it's opening day.

Our weary age is full of war,
The daily news brings dark dismay,
So surf the dreams worth living for,
Goodbye, cruel world; it’s opening day.

-- el duque, 2008 --

Project 2026: It's time for 10 cold-hearted predictions

Get down everybody! Hear those sirens, off in the distance? See those flashing lights? They're not drones. They're not missiles. They're gopher balls. They're signs of what's coming... 

The restart of the clock. 

The reboot of time.

The impending new reality.

Get away from the windows.

Ten Predictions of What's Ahead...

1. The Yankees - aka Our Antiques Road Show - will win 86 regular season games, enough to secure the final wild card slot. This will result from a second-half infusion of Gerrit Cole, Carlos Rodon and Clarke Schmidt, along with one rising young starter. (I'll get to that later.) 

2. Ben Rice will break out, make the AL all-star roster, and play an honest 1B. He will hit 36 HRs and bat .280. His opportunities will come after Paul Goldschmidt tweaks a gonad, forcing the Yankees to trust in youth. 

3. Cole will win 9 games. Due to occasional poundings, his ERA will hover around 4.00, but when he's on, he will show dominating command. 

4. Aaron Judge will suffer, as the cops say, multiple contusions and lacerations. He'll play about 100 games. Without him, the Yankees will play below .500. He will still hit 40 HRs and lead the team in offense. (Giancarlo, of course, will be injured 3/4 of the season. That's no prediction. It's just fact.)

5. When Judge goes down, Spencer Jones will be promoted from Scranton. He will take over in CF, with Trent Grisham moving to right. Jones will hit 21 HRs in about 50 games, becoming the new version of Joey Gallo/Shane Spencer/Kevin Maas. Yank fans will adore him, until he goes 0-15 in the postseason.

6. The Martian, aka Jasson Dominguez, will start slowly in Scranton and then fall into a deeper funk when the Yankees bypass him to promote Jones. He will be traded at the deadline for bullpen slop, probably to a team in the NL West, as far away as possible. There, he will cobble together a decent career, though he'll never the next Mickey Mantle, as he was so horribly touted. Someday, long after he is a memory - (as we shall be, too) - the Martian will be remembered for his  nickname and his fate: Just another a good-looking prospect who was eaten alive by the Yankee pressure cookier. 

7. The Yankees will finish third in the AL East, behind Boston and Baltimore, both of whom made a commitment to youth, which finally paid off. 

8. The Yankees will unveil a hopeful threesome of pitching prosects: Cam Schlittler, Elmer Rodriguez and Carlos Lagrange - the greatest potential trio since Ian Kennedy, Phil Phranchise and Joba. One will suffer elbow issues, one will disappoint, and one will excel. If you're lucky, you get one out of three. If. You're. Lucky. 

9. Jose Caballero will play a dutiful SS until mid-June, when he is replaced by Anthony Volpe. The new Volpe - featuring a new bat and rejiggered stance - will hit for two weeks, then fall into the floundering pit where he always ends up. By September, the SS will be Ryan McMahon. (Of, if we're lucky, George Lombard Jr.)

10. The Dodgers, of course, will win it all. They'll outlast the Mets in the NLCS, the de facto world series. Why would anybody think differently?

Play ball. (And get your predictions in.) 

WE'RE NUMBER THREE! WE'RE NUMBER THREE! WE'RE NUMBER...oh fuck it

 If, if, if...every team, every year, could be great. If. If everyone hits, if all the pitchers are lights out, if baserunners and fielders don't make a lot of mistakes and dunderheaded plays, if the manager had a brain.

He could while away the hours, conferrin' with the flowers, consultin' with the rain. And his head he'd be scratchin' while his thoughts were busy hatchin', if he only had a brain.

And you know, he makes out the lineups himself, so we know who to blame for not having a brain.

If I was 20 years old and had a 100 mph fastball and 98 mph slider and could hit .450, I'd be playing big-league ball.

If you can keep your head when all around you are losing theirs and blaming you, you'll be a man, my son. Or something.

Don't ask me, ask Kipling. As Slim Pickens said, I'm working for Mel Brooks.

Yankees' latest gift to ungrateful fans: Opening Night on Netflix

Apparently, the QVC Home Shopping Network was taken. 

So, here it is, the latest spit-in-your-face show of disrespect by MLB - and, by proxy, the Yankees - to an ancient fan base that long ago forgot passwords and user-names. Don't go searching for tomorrow night's season opener on the usual channels, because the Lords of the Game found a new, squeezable money source, and - Fun Fact: It's you! 

 Remember that 30-page scrolling contract last month, where you clicked "AGREE" in order to watch Andy of Mayberry? Well, the lawyers remember, and you're either signed up, with money being siphoned off your Medicare account, or you'll watch the action on ESPN Game Cast. And good luck. 

The Yankees 2026 opening night lands on Netflix, as the first reality mini-series to strand 26 millionaires in a haunted clubhouse, and let human nature have its way. 

It's gonna be a long year.

On that note, if you haven't registered your 2026 predictions, you have until gametime Wednesday to make known your nightmares. I'll ejaculate mine tomorrow, after keyboarding the final factoids into the psychotronic, IT IS HIGH artificial intelligence mind meld with the brain of Brian Cashman, (who, fun fact, posts on this website under the name Alphonso.)

Before I unleash the hounds of my desperation Hell, here are the main questions of 2026, as I see them: 

1. How nervous should we be about Boston? (The Redsocks are all-in on 2nd-year-man Roman Anthony, while we just sent our vaunted 2nd-year-man, Jasson Dominquez, to Scranton. Are we flat-out doomed?)

2. Can Yank pitchers hold the line until Gerrit Cole, Carlos Rodon and Clarke Schmidt return?

3. Can they survive after Cole, Rodon and Schmidt return?

4. What happens when Aaron Judge gets hurt? Guy turns 34 in April. He's gonna miss time.

5. Randal Grichuk? What the Gri-fuk? 

6. Was Trent Grisham's 2025 a complete anomaly? And how did the Yankees allow his 2026 qualifying offer dictate their entire course of action?

7. Who pitches the 7th and 8th innings? (And, please, stop saying "Camilo Doval., you pussy)!" It's downright rude.

8. What happens when Anthony Volpe returns?

9. Will we ever - ever? - see Spencer Jones?

10. How much did the AL East improve?

Predictions, people. This is no site for cowards. 

Fresh from Above Average's in–box, courtesy of your NEW YORK YANKEES !

 I BET that most Yankees Fans CAN'T wait

to get in on THIS action !

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 Netflix 

Opening Day is a national holiday for baseball fans. It shouldn’t be walled off and shoved on a 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, over-hyped, second tier announcing team from Netflix instead of Michael Kay and...  Uh.. forget I wrote that. 

BTW the third 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. 

If there's a will there's a way.

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...