Shelley Duncan is gone, and some faceless Yankee suits are praying that he doesn't have a breakout year

This should have happened two years ago, when She-Dunc -- the only Yank to fight back after Tampa cheap-shotted Francisco Cervelli at home plate in the second worst example of bad sportsmanship in the last decade, (first being the playing of "New York, New York" by the Arizona Diamondbacks p.a. system moments after the 2001 World Series) -- was kicked back to Scranton after a decent spring.

Long ago, some doubt-mongering scout with a radar gun or a rectal probe decided Shelley could not hit in the majors, and that was that. Every coach, writer and blogger in captivity jumped onboard. From then on, whatever Shelley did didn't matter. He was marked.

He could hit 30 HR at Scranton, but they'd bypass him for Justin Christian. He could win the MVP, but they'd trade for Eric Hinske. Shelley wasn't a big leaguer, and that was that.

Now, I don't claim to know a great hitter from a defensive tackle, but here's something I do know: When you quit on a guy, you should cut him loose. Not for his sake, but for yours. The Yankees get too wound up in money and ego to understand that fundamental notion about dealing with people.

Thus, the brass should hope Shelley doesn't hit 30 HR for Cleveland this year, while we play musical chairs in our OF. If it happens -- and I hope it does -- somebody who confused the radar gun with his a rectal probe will have some explaining to do.

By the way, why Kei -- "insert joke here" -- Igawa will play another year at Scranton.

Why? They're afraid to let him go. Why? He might go somewhere pitch well.

Yeeesh. Can't let that happen!