For better or worse, we now have Chris Carter for at least another month

First, a brutal, self-deprecating admission: Since that winter day when the Yankees signed Chris Carter with their last million of spare change, he has topped my personal High-Horse Shit List. It's not that I rooted against him. (In the Yankiverse, that remains the Prime Directive: You never root against one of ours.) But I saw Carter as the quintessential scrap-heap acquisition - (see Vernon Wells, Garrett Jones, Pronk, Youk, Sori, Ichiro, et al) - who, like those cuckoo birds that take over other species' nests and eat all their eggs, drags us down and steals at bats from hot prospects, such as Rob Refsnyder. (Okay, that's a joke, sort of. I still DO like Ref.) 

As the Yankee strikeouts have mounted this year - and let's not kid ourselves: they pose dire implications for this team - whenever Carter strode to the plate, I saw him eating the eggs known as Greg Bird and Tyler Austin, and I would transform into an outraged Nicolas Cage. Trust me here: There is nothing more savage and hurtful in the Yankiverse than when I channel my outraged Nicolas Cage. It's like Bruce Banner turning into the Hulk, melded into a drunk Lindsay Lohan hissyfit, written by Alphonso, after a morning of Jack and Coke. Oh, the humanity. 

But back to Carter. Truth be told, Chris hasn't in any way hurt Bird or Austin. Injuries took them out. Carter has proven to be a better glove than advertised, and despite striking out a zillion times, many with runners on, he has never shattered a water cooler, pissed on an ump or blamed anybody else. He's been a class act, almost Granderson-esque, while striking out 40 percent of the time. 

Last night, Carter had his Yankee epiphany - that Giambi moment, when he bonds with our death bed memories. That it came against Boston probably ensures Carter will stay at least through July. (Note: This morning, Trump's lawyer released this statement: "Chris Carter has been completely and totally vindicated.") But barring a setback, Greg Bird should soon return and take over first base. That will relegate Carter to platooning or pinch-hitting, and we all know that free-swingers like him, who live and die by streaks, are generally doomed in such roles. As for Tyler Austin, he now needs to hit .450 at Scranton, and even then, he'll probably spend 2017 rotting in a dugout next to Refsnyder, Mason Williams, Jake Cave and the cast of Modern Family. We'll have Carter, swinging and swinging.

Well, we always wondered what a Carter hot streak would look like. Now, we'll see. He's hit two HRs in two nights, and the umps screwed him out of a third. (I was amazed they didn't overturn that call; it really was awful.) He banged a double off the wall and made a nice stretch on one of Headley's loopy throws. We're about to see what $3.5 million buys you in the month of February. Let's cross our fingers and hope the guy hits a few more before the lights go dim again. Maybe he can lift his average to - say - .220, a plateau that sadly seems to have taken on a new respectability in this modern K/HR world. 

Another confession: I'm happy for the guy. Last night, when they jobbed him of his homer, he just smiled. It reminded me: It's never fun, waiving a veteran. I hope he keeps hitting and hitting. But I wonder if we've just been gifted another 50 strikeouts, each one a Fleet enema. Tonight, maybe we'll see. The hottest hitter on our team is Chris Carter, batting ninth. Come on, Chris! You've been Giambied. You're a Yankee now. Keep it going. Let's do this!