In just five games, Stanton has exploded the NYC spectrum

Three takeaways from yesterday's Ice Capades:

1. Eleven runs sure solves a creaky bullpen.

2. This could be the Year of Sir Didi.

3. The Giancarlo Era will be a tumultuous ride. (And these days, people die on carnival rides.) 

On that note, let's ponder #3. 

In our lifetimes, Stanton is the fourth MVP slugger to reach the Yankees in a pre-branded, fully-dropped testicle, superstar, Kardashian marquee, too-much-money-for-his-own-good mode. The process began with Reggie, then 30 years became Giambi and finally, of course, A-Rod. Obviously, the Babe started everything, but that was a million years ago, when the Yankees faced packs of tyrannosaurs. (Timeline courtesy of the Creation Museum, MAGA, Kentucky.)  

In each case, the star slugger instantly changed not just the Yankee batting order, but the way they were covered in the media and perceived internationally. It's already happening with Stanton - who has become a first-name star: "Giancarlo." (Don't be surprised if by July, he's just "Gio.")

The first week gave a taste of what's to come. Five days after being enshrined in Cooperstown (two HRs), he's booed off the field for five strikeouts, the so-called "Platinum Sombrero." If you're old enough to recall the days before the "Golden Sombrero," you know how much the HR-K game has changed. 

At this point, let's ponder a brief history of this delightful phrase: "Golden Sombrero" stems from the hockey term "hat trick," which signified three goals in a game. Four strikeouts became the "sombrero," attributed to Carmelo Martinez of the Padres in the 1980s and first quoted by Leon "Bull" Durham in 1984. Five strikeouts was the "Olympic Rings," and six, technically, was a "Horn," named after Sam Horn, whose ghost lives forever as a Redsock self-torture internet forum. Frankly, I don't think Horn deserves such fame. Continuing with the precious substance metaphor, six strikeouts should be a "Military Grade Plutonium Sombrero," and seven the "Extinct White Rhino Horn Sombrero."

But back to Giancarlo. Yesterday, he was the luckiest man on the face of the earth: the Yankees won. Yeah, he was booed after the fifth fan. It could have been the last out of a 5-4 game. It would have been much worse, and one of these days, it will be. 

With Giancarlo, the Yankees have become a bi-polar attraction, with the media either dancing with joy or screaming in pain. The highs are astronomical, the lows bottomless. This season, Yankee media coverage - particularly the tabs - will be off the charts. Hell hath no fury like a tabloid in a downward circulation cycle. And hell hath no fury like a Yankee fan, disappointed. It's an explosive mix, and it's coming to the Bronx in an already tumultuous era. 

Hold on to your hats, everybody. And one more thing: It may be up to us - the most delirious Yankee fans on the planet - to hold the line on reason. Imagine that.