Across global online message boards - the telephone party line of modern civilizations - Yank fans yesterday were pondering the unponderable:
What could Juan Soto bring at the August 1 trade deadline?
By then, the Death Barge could be a stagnant, malfunctioning floater - its front office debating whether to reflexively chase the final wild card berth, or to mercifully put down this cancerous beagle.
By then, Soto could be a fuming, three-month rental - maybe even a headcase - frustrated by the lack of support by an organization that vowed to contend.
By then, the Yankees could be contemplating a July 31 extinction event - the selloff of not only Soto, but Gleyber Torres, Alex Verdugo, Tommy Kahnle and Insert-Name-Here, who will become free agents next winter. If they love NY and hate the Yankees, they could simply skip across town and join the Mets, who could become New York's premier team.
By then, we could be facing a disastrous quarter century, an ongoing diminishment of what was once America's greatest sports icon, strangled by hubris, infinite amounts of money, and a sad, nepo baby owner who probably never wanted the job in the first place.
By then, the Yankees could be starting over.What rouses such pessimism, exceptional even from a website known for invoking gloom and doom as a means to shame gods that - frankly - may not exist? (Yeah, juju gods, I'm talking to you... if you exist. If this pessimism doesn't rouse you, you're just a dickless figment of our imaginations, a nothingness POS, and the hell with you. Go rule over Division III women's cornhole.)
Wanna know why I'm so desperate? Check out the stat box to the right. The difference between Gerrit Cole and the rest of the last year's Yankee rotation is the difference between champagne and bong water.
Today, Cole will learn what's causing the pain in his elbow. The Yankees claim it's relatively minor: He'll maybe miss two months. Generally, the rule about Yankee public statements is to take whatever time they expect to be missed - and double it. Moreover, if Cole needs surgery, he's gone for the season, and that little chart is all you need to know about our state of being, come midnight on July 31.
So, the barge lost again yesterday. It's still too early to assign meaning to any of these games, but the Yankees are not looking good. DJ LeMahieu is still sinking slowly into oblivion, and Alex Vertigo continues to spin helplessly. A few days ago, Anthony Volpe was hitting .400. That's March for you. But we all must ponder: It's barely half done, and what else does this wretched month have in store?
10 comments:
To the esteemed Duque, last year has little bearing on this year (and yeah, they could be worse. The bit young is generally deeper, admittedly not as young or well as we'd all like. Bu t then again how many teams are? How many Rings have the fckng Dodgers reeled in? But we have seen countless teams including teams besides the team besides the Yankees who (with few exceptions) have had stacked lineups and bullpens melt in August and September melt due to thin rotations. Bullpens collapse from over use, bats from fatigue and mental fatigue. Cole must have two-thirds of season, some decent depth found somewhere, and hopefully an bought an Ace, although Snell is almost a lottery ticket. I know that you guys are a bit young for the reference, I am compelled to borrow a quote from McHale's Navy's Captain Binghamton, "I could just scream"!
What a great cast!!!
**** Sorry for the typos, this Kindle is edging towards a lit torch😡💩
If the worse happens, that could be the best thing for the Yankees as you stated...
In the words of the immortal S. Gross, "I am blind and my dog is dead."
Or, as B. Kliban masterfully put it, "And bring some shit for my fly."
This is where we are now. In an obscure, abstract, metaphorical sense.
A more racist version might be, "No pitchee, no trophy."
I heard that when Cole asked Team
Physician, Dr Vinnie Boom Botz for a second opinion, the Dr told him
he was ugly too.
With apologies to John Lennon, the Yankees are a concept by which we measure our pain.
Very well played, BTR.
I humbly offer this as a companion piece:
YANKEEEEEEES, you left me - but I never left you
OH-OH-OOOOH, I needed you, you didn't need me, oh no
So I, I gotta tell you
Goodbye
GOOOOOD BYEEEEEEEE
In the words of the immortal S. Gross, "I am blind and my dog is dead."
Cheney did a nice riff on that in a later edition of Nat Lamp:
I am blind and my dog has asthma.
Yes, this is why I need this place.
Doctor recommends rest
https://nypost.com/2024/03/14/sports/gerrit-cole-can-avoid-tommy-john-surgery-in-yankees-sigh-of-relief/
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