Could Headley be a Brosius?

Scott Brosius came to NYC at age 31, following a nightmare year in Oakland when he hit .203 and earned the nickname "Atrocious." To get him, we gave up Kenny Rogers, our own pre-Carl Pavano-esque disappointment, who would eventually enact revenge - but that's another tale from the crypt. 

Brosius embodied an increasingly rare soul: the discarded journeyman who thrived in Gotham. In 1998, his first Yankee season, he hit .300 - a rise of 97 points. Generally, he batted eighth, ahead of slappy Joe Girardi. Over the next few years, his numbers fell: in 2000, Brosius hit .230. But in October 2001, he wrote his name into our sidewalk, homering with two outs in the ninth to beat Arizona, in the most heart-breaking World Series ever, ending the last great Yankee dynasty of our lifetimes... until, gulp, dare I say it?... maybe now.

Four years ago, at age 30, Chase Headley came to this now Mets-dominated city, after the abominable Padres punted. He was hitting .229 in San Diego, unprotected and unhappy, and jumped to .262 over the second half of the season. (By the way, that's the highest he has ever hit for us.) He embraced NYC and signed with us through 2018, at $13 million per season. It's been downhill ever since.

But today, I cometh here to speaketh blaspheme. I sayeth that the difference between the two is that Brosius played on great meaty Alpo teams, while Headley has been surrounded by ACME kibble. On occasion, Brosius batted ninth; on occasion, Headley has hit second. And these days, Headley has become the starter Yankee fans most want to vanish. (I'm excluding Chris Carter, who no longer starts, and Jacoby Ellsbury, who has recurring headaches, which are no laughing matter.)  

Yesterday, on the great River Ave website, Mike Axisa sifted through potential trades the Yankees can make at 3B. He studied Todd Frazier, Martin Prado, Judd Lowrie, et al, with varying degrees of pain and commitment. It's worth reading, but for one elemental caveat: Nobody ever projects Brian Cashman's trades. For better or worse, whatever Cashman does, it's never what bloggers expect. Generally, I say, why bother?

Besides, as simplistic, fairy tale-minded Yank fans, we all want Glyber Torres, age 20, to vault fully grown from the skull of Scranton and lead the 2017 team to the World Series. (By the way, Glyber homered last night, his first at Triple A... but he was playing SS. What the, like, fuck?) To paraphrase the NY Lottery: All you need is a prospect and a dream. But here's another thought.

Let's start viewing Headley as a mutant Brosius, who hits .228 (his current stat) but bats ninth. If Greg Bird ever returns at 1B, we can afford a .228 nothing-burger at 3B. I say this recognizing that, for most IIHIIFIIc readers, Head Chese Headley has lingered well past his sell-by date and is stinking up the deli counter.  

Nevertheless... I say the Evils should do nothing at third, (unless Glyber goes on a ridiculous tear and forces the issue.) Houston is baseball's best team, and we sit right where they were two seasons ago. At some point over the next 12 months, we will surely trade a bunch of prospects, but if so, let's do it for somebody in or entering his prime - not a three-month rental or a hanger-on. At Trenton, a 22-year-old 3B named Miguel Andujar is now hitting .302 after a dreary start. Between him and/or Glyber, we have the long-range answer at 3B right in front of us. The last thing we need is yet another aging veteran. (Though a Josh Donaldson... hmmm... that would be interesting, no?) 

It hurts to type this, but I say we must ride with Headley unless one of the kids absolutely kicks in the door. No matter how badly we want it, Glyber might not be ready in 2017. Let Headley bat ninth (except for when Austin Romine is catching), and let's live with .228 and 12-15 home runs. If Bird doesn't hit, well, that's the crisis. We can afford a Brosius, as long as we have a Tino at first - and right now, we got nuthin.

We remember Scott Brosius fondly, because he was part of a great team. That's our best hope for Headley. And - gulp, dare I say it? - it could happen.