No to Bregman. No to Bellinger. No to everything. Of the current Yankee condition, Paul Simon said it best

You hear what they're saying, and you shudder...

That the Yankees will sign an ex-Astro, a cheater? Or trade prospects for another veteran, past prime? Or stand pat, just stagger into 2025 with gaping holes everywhere and pretend that all is well?  

As Paul Simon - (Yank fan, by the way) - once sang: 

Laugh about it, shout about it,
When you've got to choose,
Every way you look at it, you lose...

Good grief, we're mired into Simon's next iconic line.

Sorry, folks. Christmas is coming, and the days will soon be getting longer, but I just cannot shake the sense that we're heading into a long, dark abyss. 

It's the Soto thing, of course.

Not since 2004, have I felt so beaten, so demoralized. In one move, the Mets flicked the polarity on 40 years of subservience. With each passing day, Juan Soto's time as a Yankee feels more like a dream: We had him, a future plaque in Monument Park, and we let him go.  

To the Mets. To our crosstown rival.   

And now, you read the rumors, and you shudder...

We're going to replace a future Hall of Famer with - gulp - Cody Bellinger? Seriously? This should thrill us? Last year, Bellinger hit 18 HRs, drove in a mere 78, reached base at a sickly .325 clip - nearly 100 points below Soto. Four years ago, over an entire season, he hit .165. We'll trade prospects for him? Or pay his $27 million salary? This is how we'll stay relevant?

Shoot me. This is as dreary as any time since 2004, the year the Redsocks rolled us over. I'd almost prefer we step back, call it a rebuilding year, and play for 2026. But that won't happen. Nope. It's the Curse of Hal: That the Yankees shall always contend, even though - considering the expanded playoff structure - all but the absolute worst teams stay in the race through September. 

Are we really planning to replace Juan Soto with Alex Bregman? With Cody Bellinger? With Your Name Here? The Mets are throwing parties. We're courting Christian Walker? Damn. Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you.