uhm - game thread ? yeah....maybe – why not

 

An Above Average Haiku Tuesday – Ground Control to Major Tom, Edition

 

time to reaccess

those storm clouds bring more than rain

Fried things do taste good

 

Dear Yankees: It's time to put up or shut up

 

Dear Yankees (may I call you Yanks?) 

It's September. 

The leaves are turning, the schools are churning, the forests are burning, and Giants fans are yearning. You soon will be replaced every Sunday by the most violent collisions of humanity since the Crusades. It's what America loves, the true national pastime, and as baseball teams plummet out of contention - their fans will happily discard ballcaps and don football jerseys. Come fall and winter, only the Jets and Giants - two uniquely awful sports franchises - can save baseball in NYC.    

For better or worse, it's time for you - that is, the Yanks - to show the world your true colors. Midnight Blue, or Piss Yella.

The Yankees started 2025 on a hot streak. As everyone knows - (history sucks, eh?) - you were 7 games up on May 28. That merry month is now just part of an ugly fossil record, a reckoning that looms ever larger, as daylight hours shrink. It's been a tough summer. That said, here we are - only two losses behind Toronto, and one ahead of Boston - and over the next two weeks, you'll face both. The Yankees can be champions or a laughingstock. They can embrace greatness or mediocrity. They can be the team that rose in the clutch - or that constantly went knock-kneed in the presence of a true contender. 

Throughout the summer, you faded against good pitching and solid defense. Well, summer is almost over. 

Let's acknowledge that whatever happens over the next two weeks - against Houston, Toronto, Boston and Detroit - the Yankees will likely still reach the postseason. That's because of an expanded playoff system, which rewards almost any team that finishes above .500. That's how the Yankees avoid being held accountable: Their also-ran teams qualify for the playoffs, even if under old-time standards, they would have been dropped from October games. 

Well, here we are. 

But over the next two weeks, if the Yankees flop, everyone will know the truth about this team. 

After nearly 140 games, the 2025 Yankees reach the Gauntlet

 

Welp, here it is. 

The Gauntlet. 

It starts Tuesday.

Three games against Houston. 

Three against Toronto. 

Three vs Detroit. 

Three at Fenway. 

They all despise us, their hatreds burning hotter than a billion suns. 

Houston cheats. Everybody knows it. They stole a world series. They used video technology and garbage cans. They'll should be in jail. They have no shame. Next winter, don't be surprised if they invoke a redistricting plan for the NL West. (They'll play Colorado, Washington, White Sox and Toledo.) 

Toronto has L'll Vlad, who vowed to never join the Yankees, never have anything to do with the Yankees, never even smile in the Yankees' direction... until it became financially inconvenient, so he said he was just kidding. Now he hates us again? He's lapped me.

Detroit has Gleyber - seething, angry Gleyber - who still cannot accept that he sleepwalked his way out of a career in NY. He could have been a lifelong Yankee. It was his fault, not ours. 

And then Boston... smug, frat-boy Boston. The Redsocks should ditch 2025 and send their young, superstar lineup directly to Cooperstown. 

Four three-game series, each one a glimpse of October. 

After 137 games, we will finally gauge the destiny of this team.

Yes, it will be followed by two weeks of cupcakes. Yes, as patsy-punchers, the Yankees will still be able to stumble into the playoffs - and quickly disappear. 

But make no mistake: This is the Gauntlet. 

END of AUGUST – END of SUMMER – ANY other ENDS ?

The rest of the way: contenders, then cupcakes

 At least for now, let's accept that the '25 Yankees shall be forever remembered for losing to its rivals. 

If this franchise someday commemorates this team with a bobblehead giveaway, the piece should show a nervous Poop Emoji on a shaky bed: The team that crapped its mattress.

Against likely post-season competition, the Yankees are 21-29 - including a rancid 2-8 against Boston, and a 3-7 against Toronto, the two most hate-filled teams on their schedule. 

But but BUT... if there is a sprig of light at the end of the tunnel, it is the beacon of Prego and Ragu - cans of tomato, earnestly cutting through the gloom to offer savory plates of victory. After today, the Yankees play 12 straight against contenders, then pull a 180 degree switch, playing the Tankathon Trio - the Twinkies, O's and Chisox, whose lineups resemble B-units for the Savannah Bananas. 

All we need do is steal a game against Houston, then roll over the rotguts. 

Yes, in saying this, I do feel cheap and indecent. But after seven months of this retch-inducing roller coaster, all we need do is survive four more weeks: Just hang in against the good teams, then wallop the patsies. And don't get anybody injured. That's all. 

Yes, it's sad, that we're reduced to this. But let's not kid ourselves. If this team has a championship destiny, it has done everything humanly possible to conceal it.

But here we are, two up in the wild card loss column and floating with a 7-game winning streak. Yeah, it's the Nats and  Chicago - but we're rolling. This might be as good as it's gonna get. 

Enjoy it this weekend.

There's good news, and there's bad news

We've won seven in a row and 12 out of the last 15. 

We're challenging the Jays and the Tigers for the best record in the AL.

We're beating crap teams with confidence, which is better than we were doing.

Even Boone can't screw up enough to make us lose, though he tried damned hard last night. Williams? Doval? Jesus.

And now, the bad news, and it may not be what you think: that we can't beat teams that are over .500. Though that is, indeed, bad.

No, the real bad news is that Volpe and Wells are hitting. Both of them. At the same time. And that means they're going to keep getting into the lineup. And once we face better pitching--like, this week--they're going to suck. But Boone will only see how they've been "breaking out" recently.

That is very, very, very, very bad news. During a stretch run, against your toughest league opponents, you do not want these guys playing a lot, if at all. They can't handle pressure, and that's all we'll have for the next week or so. And also in the postseason, if we make it that far.

Between Boone's bad bullpen decisions (or whoever's bad decisions they are) and the fact that these two "future of the Yankees" stiffs will now be playing all the time, in Volpe's case, or too much of the time, in Wells's case, we don't have much of a chance against Houston, Toronto, Detroit, and Boston.

To make matters worse, Stanton might have cooled off. He's been relegated to PH duty when Boone decides he can't play right field, and that's not something that has a good effect on him. The joke has always been that Stanton will get hot and get hurt, then not be able to regain his form once he's back. Sitting on the bench is a non-hurt form of getting hurt. 

Of course, there's no such thing as a hot hand according to the geeks.

Our bullpen is still a sieve and Boone is still an idiot.

I'm trying really hard not to get my hopes up about the next week and a half.

08-30-25 The Thread – Skipper BøøNe is the Best !

 

Let us now praise famous men: The best centerfielder in baseball is a Yankee.

 

Generally, I've remained tight-lipped this year on the matter of Trent Grisham - and with good reason... 

The Second Rule of Juju:  

Never speak positively about your team.

(Note: The First Rule of Juju is, of course, Never talk about juju.)

Seriously. What good can ever result from babbling happy talk about your team? For starters, you are jinxing the roster. At best, the team will keep doing what it's been doing. More likely, the juju gods will hear what you said, halt their sidewalk cigarette break, run back to the office and start pulling levers to instigate an outfield collision or Tommy John surgery. Nobody will thank you for appreciating their winning streak. All you can do is hex the team. 

But but BUT... (and I continue here with great trepidation) - something needs to be - well - inferred about Trenton Marcus Grisham. The guy is having a moment. No, he is having a year. With one month left in the regular season, Grisham is making a case for being baseball's best centerfielder, offensively and defensively, as he heads toward free agency. 

Damn. I'm trying to be negative here, but this guy started 2025 as a fourth outfielder -  behind Judge, Bellinger and The Martian - and unless I jinx him, he'll finish as the second most valuable player on this team. 

Guy turns 29 on Nov. 1. If his season ended today, it's his career year. He has never hit more than 17 HRs. He's closing in on 30. His BA - .248 - is just three points below his career best - 2020, the Covid year. In 115 games, he has made only 2 errors. (Same as Byron Buxton in 98 games.) But to appreciate his defense, you simply have to watch Grisham glide from left to right, timing his arrival with the ball. He already has two Gold Gloves (2020, 2022). This will be his third. Best part of all this? He came from San Diego in the Juan Soto trade - making him the most consequential player (at least this year) traded in that dismal property exchange.

So, no gushing over Grisham. He has a month to go. He'll probably hit .190. And if any juju gods are reading this, I suggest you grab the Camels and go outside for a smoke. You're missing the last great weekend of summer. And if you read any of the above... jeussssss keeeeeeeding!

To hell with this MAGAt scum!

Ex-Yankee Mark Teixeira will be running for Texas' 21st Congressional District in the U.S. House. His announcement follows Rep. Chip Roy’s decision not to seek re-election as he runs for the office of the Texas Attorney General. 

Teixeira released an official statement on social media, saying he’s "ready to help defend President Trump’s America First agenda, Texas families, and individual liberty."

"As a proud Texan and lifelong conservative who loves our country, I’m ready to fight for the principles that make Texas strong and America exceptional," the statement read. "It takes teamwork to win, and I’m ready to help defend President Trump’s America First agenda, Texas families, and individual liberty."

"Never thought I’d hear myself say it, but just this once, stick to sports," wrote one user.

Another X user wrote, "Mark Teixeira being a MAGA POS doesn’t surprise me one bit."One user even went so far as to call Teixeira a "bad person," in response to his run as a Republican.  

"Did not know Mark Teixeira was a bad person but here we are," that user wrote. 

More here

 

The Yankees beat up on another cupcake, but the Gauntlet awaits...

In recent weeks, the Supreme Legion of Keyboard Coaches - (know-it-all Yank fans) - have suggested that Anthony Volpe win a free weekend in Scranton, where he can ingest magic mushrooms, find a good $5 hooker, and recalibrate his aura with the astral universe. 

Right now, Volpe's head needs a Triple A ream-out, a week without Jack Curry, and 20 swings against International League pitching. 

Aside from Curry and his Jell-O-infused hair, this week's series against the Nats and White Sox could be considered as a de facto trip to Toledo. With constant leads of six to eight runs, Volpe should have been able to relax, stream the Hallmark Channel, and watch the leaves change color. 

Take last night, for example: With his team scoring 10 runs against the Tank Sox, Volpe contributed two hits, likely keeping his BA above .200 for the Labor Day weekend. 

But but BUT... he booted another grounder, his 18th error of the season, most in baseball - and, let's face it: 

Every bouncer to SS has become a YES-Mo adventure, lasting an eternity, long enough for Volpe to think about what is happening. And that's a troubling development for any infielder.  

And no matter how bad Chicago looks, this is not Triple A. 

In fact, the stakes continue to rise against patsies, as these are games the Yankees MUST win, because - sadly - they cannot beat the good teams. 

On that note, I hereby call upon the Yankees to temporarily halt the Anthony Volpe Rescue and Salvage Operation and launch a new experiment, framed around one question: 

Can Jose "The Gay" Caballero play everyday SS? 

As a utility OF and late-inning sub, Caballero looks ducky. The other night, he stole 2B fine in a ridiculous hop, skip and jump, as the pitcher (our own former project, Clayton Beeter) didn't bother to look at him. It was crazy. 

But can Caballero play SS for a contending team?  

The Yankees better find out soon. The playoffs are no time for experiments. Next week, the hapless Chisox turn into the team of cheatin' Jose Altuve, the Yankee Babadook. Then comes Toronto, the most pivotal weekend of 2025. Over three days, we can become legitimate contenders - or fall out of the wild card. 

We've gone three years with Volpe - enough time to know what we've got. It's time to ponder how the Yankees look with someone else. Chicago is a perfect place to start. Tonight is the perfect time.  

(Final note: The Death Barge won last night without help from our RF muse Giancarlo Stanton. The G-Man went 0-4 - his second 0-4 this entire month - (he does not have an 0-5 this year.) At RAB, Mike says it's the hottest streak of Stanton's career, even including when he was known as "Mike." He has 17 HRs in 167 at-bats. The problem: Nobody stays this hot forever. It will soon be up to Aaron Judge.)

Game Thread – 08-28-25 – No Pressure, No Urgency, Just Some Stress-Free Baseball In Chicago

 

It all makes sense now...

A lot of us can not understand for the life of us why Boone keeps running Volpe out there. He's starting again today! Unconscionable! Or is it? 

Today I came across what must be the reason...

That's right, Anthony Volpe has taken a certain Luke Boone's place as the worst slump in New York Yankee History. 

Luke Boone. Say it with me...

Luke. Boone. 

Hmmmmnn.

 

"He stoppeth one in three."

 

Just to clarify—and to make amends for anything too sarcastic I might have written—I want to say this about who's the albatross now:

—I sure as hell didn't see it coming. The first thing I thought, when the Yankees traded for Giancarlo Stanton, was something along the lines of, "Hey, now we're going to win the next five World Series." I thought the same thing when they acquired A-Rod. You'd think I would learn something. Apparently not.

—I think the only one here who did think it was a mistake was our rarely seen, Dauntless Leader, Alphonso, who called it at once. I thought he was nuts. Again, learning from life...what a concept!

—Giancarlo has had some amazing streaks, and generally gets up for the postseason. When he is not too damaged to play then, too.

—Does that make him a more valuable player than the sadly un-clutch Judge? No, it does not.  Without Judge, your New York Yankees would have made the playoffs maybe once since 2017. And I still think that Judge has a clutch postseason in his bones. Hey, A-Rod did!  

In valuing the two of them, for once, even the Estimable Keefe is wrong.

—Giancarlo sure has proven to be a stand-up guy...or is he, really?  I dunno. Let's face it: his amazing, model-pumping regimen has almost certainly been fueled by steroids. 

Is it really "stand-up" to accept an enormous contract when your performance is based on PEDs? Especially when your body starts to break down, due to said PEDs? In the end, you're not just ripping off the Steinbrenners—who, in a just world, would be beaten through the streets with sticks—but us fans, too.  

We paid our money, thinking this guy could play. As it turned out, for entire seasons, he could not. Which did not lead him to change his workout habits one whit, apparently.  

—I don't have much deep-seated animosity toward Big G. As with all things Yankee, the fault lies in Cashman, not in our stars. But still.

It's no fun, watching Anthony Volpe flounder. Is it The Curse of the Four?

Back in the day, Joe Torre used to say a pennant race was no place to make friends. 

He lived that line. At various moments, Torre benched the likes of Tino Martinez, Roger Clemens and even Paul O'Neill, the modern YES Yankee historian. Torre played his gut, regardless of whose feelings suffered. He once marched to the mound, got square into David Cone's jowls, yelled a bunch of shit and then walked back to the dugout, leaving him in. Tough decisions. No time to make pals.

Soon - well, actually, yesterday - Aaron Boone must decide on Anthony Volpe - a friend or a failure?  

Right now, the Yankees are simply punting on the matter, a non-decision that is torqueing up pressure on Volpe and helping him flounder. Last weekend, they gave him two days off and pretended all was fine. It's not. 

In the last month, following the All-Star break, we have watched Volpe... 

1. Go on a mighty tear, hitting six HRs in 12 games.

2. Suddenly show "the yips," bouncing routine throws.

3. Mix great plays with stupid ones, then fall apart against Boston.

4. Go 1-for-32. 

Yesterday, as the Yankees were piling up 11 runs on 13 hits over the washed-out Washington Nats, Volpe went 0-5, including a lunging strikeout on a ball so outside the strike zone that it seemed to vanish, like his career. He is 0-for-the-week, 0-for the Boston cataclysm, and seems like 0-for-forever: When Volpe steps to the plate, along with the boos, you can feel the sound of pressure hissing from a tire. 

Something has to happen. 

What Volpe needs is a big red reset button. In a perfect world, he'd go to Scranton, work out some kinks, readjust his swing and figure out a plan. This happens often with other teams. But it won't happen here. Instead, we're once again watching the Curse of the Core 4.  

The Four - of course - are Mariano, Jeter, Andy and Jorge - none of whom has ever been effectively replaced, despite regular assurances from the YES hype machine. How many closers have we gone through? How many shortstops? Lefty big game starters? Slugger catchers?  

It's sorta scary, how the Yankees go through their next big things. In 2022, at age 22, Oswald Peraza hit 19 HRs at Scranton, was a Triple A all-star and was christened the Great Yankee Hope. The following spring - poof. Volpe got hot, captured the YES imagination, and became - well - the Great Yankee Hope. Peraza turned into a basket case. (He still is: With the Angels, he's hitting .111.) In the name of Estevan Florial, how could a guy with so much potential turn into such a non-entity? 

Now, now it's Volpe on the ropes. Despite spurts of hope, Volpe has deteriorated into a batter on the brink of hitting below .200, and a fielder who cannot be counted on to make even routine plays. 

I dunno what to do with Volpe. I just know that the Yankees can keep kicking his can down the road. Something has to happen, and it must be more than missing a game. 

And it won't necessarily make friends. 

In the Nats, Yanks at last find true romance

 

Fried Hump Day – Game Thread – "Oh, I, could tell you why . . . "

 

The organization that once scapegoated Bobby Meachem is going all-in on Anthony Volpe. Will it work?

In August of 1985 - (holy crap! that's 40 years ago) - shortstop Bobby Meacham inscribed a chapter into the Eternal Book of the Yankee Damned.  

It happened in an 11-inning loss to the White Sox in Yankee Stadium. In the 7th inning of a tie game, Meachem stood on second base, and Yogi's kid, Dale, was on first. Rickey Henderson belted a drive to the CF wall, deep enough to clear the bases. But Meachem slipped near third, leaving he and Berra to reach home plate almost simultaneously. The relay throw beat them, and catcher Carlton Fisk tagged Meachem to his right, then Berra to his left - a ridiculous double-play that made the SportsCenter highlight reel for months, and which caused owner George Steinbrenner to belch up a small child. 

Old George had already blown several gaskets over Meachem. The previous season, Meachem had been demoted to the minors, on orders from The Boss, after booting a grounder. It happened over the objections of manager Yogi Berra, who was soon fired. 

It was cruel. It was vindictive. It was everything old George stood for. The Yankees would finish second - back then, runners-up missed the playoffs - and the developmentally arrested owner blamed Russia, Russia, Russia, Meachem, Meachem, Meachem. Eventually, they would trade him for an outfielder named Bob Brower.

In 1985, Hal would have been 16.

An impressionable age, eh? I've often wondered how folks reacted to a gangly teenager whose last name stood out like a forehead wart. Somebody should write a chapter in a book about this father-son relationship - (listening, Hoss?) - especially when it comes to divergent styles of management. 

As we slog through Aaron Boone's eighth year at the helm - no ring to show - I suppose you could say that the Yankees have changed, eh? 

Hal is happy to sit back, count the money, and leave the team to his Rasputin, Brian Cashman. Clearly, he has no interest in firing people, in re-committing the sins of the father. 

There will never be another Bobby Meachem incident, and maybe that's for the better? 

Which brings me to Anthony Volpe. 

Insert sigh here.

Last night, Volpe went 0-4 - again - prompting Boone to gush the usual tripe about "good swings" - (he hit a long fly) - and proclaim fealty to Volpe in much the way that White House cabinet members talk about a certain leader. It's clear that the Yankees intend to go with Volpe at SS through September, regardless of how he straddles the Mendoza Line. 

I think Hal Steinbrenner simply remembers his unease, his embarrassment, from watching his dad toy with the lives of otherwise righteous human beings. 

Frankly, it's commendable that the son strives for a better legacy in treating the hired help.  

But right now, Volpe's walk-up song should be "Waist Deep in the Big Muddy."

Listen: Like most Yank fans, I love Volpe. I desperately want him to start hitting, to settle the infield, to become a Yankee linchpin at SS for the next 10 years. I want for some Yankee blogger in 2055 to look back on this time - as we are doing on Bobby Meachem - and thank the juju gods for staying loyal to Volpe. 

But but BUT... the cringes are happening, closer and closer. The Yankees can stomp the Nats and White Sox, but the team cannot absorb another 0-20 against Houston or Toronto. Volpe is one more brain fart from disappearing, and in NY, that's a bad place to be. (See Torres, Gleyber, 2024) 

I gotta believe that Hal starting to feel uncomfortable. Volpe better not slip while running the bases. 

We would be totally fucked without Stanton

Just saying. With Ghost disappearing, he's currently the player we wish Judge could be.

And he doesn't suck in right field. No Gold Glove, but adequate.

Something's wrong with Judge. This is like the beginning of last year. Ever since the injury...

Anyway, it's now two in the morning in New York. Symmetry.

Tardy Game Thread -–- Don't blame Volpe

 

An Above Average Haiku Tuesday – Playing with DC, Edition

 

As the Yankees beat up on Washington - (because, of course, they do) - it's worth wondering: Who represents the future of this team?

Last night, a leisurely soak in the tomato can hot tub...

The Death Barge clobbered poor Washington- a Triple A-level team, 23 games behind in the NL East, which is tanking for the '26 first draft pick. In doing so, the Yankees solidified their modern legacy: Bullies against cupcakes, cupcakes against contenders. 

It's embarrassing to root for a team that so cravenly chokes in the face of true competition. You almost prefer an honest meltdown. If they're going to humiliate us, at least give us the decency of inferiority. We can laugh, rather than cringe. But that's our Yankees: Beat the mattress against Washington, crap the bed against Boston.

Seriously, how else should we measure last night? The Yankees bludgeoned a team that was 25 games below .500, on a losing streak, with the third worst record in baseball. But throughout the beating - the game was never in doubt - you couldn't dispel a sense that Washington will regroup, rebuild and win a championship before we do, because the Yankees are stuck in an endless loop, where we always beat the midgets and then fall apart in October. Other teams get younger, with lineups around age at 23. We're always chasing wild cards and pushing 32. 

So... who represents the future of the Yankees - the bulwarks of the next five years, as Giancarlo Stanton departs and Aaron Judge enters his twilight. Who will rise to lead this team?

Last night, you could argue that the next Yankee generation turned out. Jasson Dominguez hit his 10th HR of the year. Ben Rice hit the longest homer of his MLB career. And Anthony Volpe played errorless ball, mainly because he didn't play.

But right now, Boston and Toronto look flush with young, ascending stars, and the Rays never stay down for long. Who will the Yankees have in, say, 2028, to give us hope?

Well... in the name of Dax Kilby... let's look at some candidates...

1. Dominguez? The Martian has - well - come down to earth. He's hitting .256 with 10 HRs and 43 RBIs. It's not what we hoped for: The next Juan Soto. But he's only 22. Should we worry that he won't see any RH at-bats for the rest of 2025, which means a lost year of development? Could he become the next Oswaldo Cabrera? That is, they decide he can't hit from one side, and clip his wings as a switch-hitter? I'd like to think The Martian will become a star, but has he shown it? He's still botching balls in LF. That's a bad sign. 

2. Rice is having a breakout season - .241, 21 HRs, 48 RBIs - at catcher and 1B. By this time next year, he should be a regular at one of the positions. But it's relevant to consider his age: He's 26, near prime. I think he's for real, though the Yankees love to trot out bogus stats that suggest players are hitting better than we think. He's got a high barreling of the bat percentage. They can make numbers jump through hoops.  

3. Volpe. Look, I don't wanna get mired here. We've all seen what we've seen. It's been three years, and everybody is tired. Nobody wants to see a local boy fall apart - again - but it's starting to look as though he needs to play in another city, for another team. That will be one of the saddest outcomes in modern Yankee history. He can still turn it around. But if he flounders over the next few weeks, his days here will be numbered. It's a tough city.  

4. George Lombard Jr. He's 20, acrobatic, hits for power and - at 6'2" - conveys a Jeter-esque profile at SS. But but BUT... he's hitting .211 with 6 HRs at Somerset. Early in the year, he lit up High Single A. We hoped he'd rise through the system and maybe take over SS next year, if Volpe fades. Now... dunno who will play SS next year. If Volpe fails, would the Yankees sign a free agent SS, or push this guy into the Majors, (as they did with Volpe.) He still draws great hope. But that .211 haunts him from every scoreboard.

5. Spencer Jones. The big guy. He's hitting .287 at Scranton, though his BA is dropping. He has 16 HRs in Triple A - 32 on the year, counting Double A - most in the minor leagues. He's 24 and strikes out way too much. On most rebuilding teams, Jones would have been already called up this year. (If the Yankees were out of the race, they could have traded Trent Grisham and installed Jones in CF. But that's not how they roll.) Jones is still most famous for being 6'7", but that won't help him in the Show. I wonder if there is a path for him on the Yankees, especially if they re-sign Grisham.  

6. TJ Rumfield. Get it? That's a joke. Of course, they will never give Rumfield a chance. He's 25, hitting .302 with 15 HRs, 82 RBIs and a quality defense that has won him minor league gold gloves at 1B. He's 6'5" and bats LH. I don't know why he is so incredibly lost at sea, but rest assured: He is. 

And once they're done beating Washington - and the White Sox, who follow - maybe so will be the Yankees.    

Game Thread – 08–25 x 2 – GOOD LORD √s HOLY SCHLIT !

 

Miracle Yankee win opens path to big series against Washington Nats

Hey, Mayor Adams, hoist the pennant flags, street sweep the Canyon of Heroes, and start spreading the news  bags of "potato chips," 'cause the Yanks are back, and Washington - ground zero for the occupation - is coming! 

Three games against the Nats! Baseball's third worst team. A true tomato can. Hey, is Clayton Beeter in the rotation? 

I guess Boston won't be so smart-mouthy today, as the solo-homer Yanks last night not only belted two more solos - (they lead the world in that grand category) -  but they won a solo home game! (I now understand why Jazz Chisholm thought he could win the Home Run Derby; he knew there would be nobody on base!) 

In their quests for a wild card berth, the Yanks and Redsocks are now tied in the loss column, at 60 - as the Yanks notched Win Number Two v Boston. 

Can you feel the surge, the euphoria, the excitation? Not sure who'll pitch for the Nats - they're 23 games behind Philadelphia in the NL East - (wait, is Adam Ottavino still going?) - but expect close games and - of course -  solo homers. 

Last night, Trent Grisham contributed two. He has 25 HRs on the year, and 50 RBIs. Of course, he bats leadoff, so it's not his fault if nobody is on base. (Listen: I like Grisham, love how he lopes after long flies and always gets there, right on time. Next winter, he'll get a big contract from somebody - probably a bidding war between us and Stevie Cohen. Would Cooperstown Cashman re-enact the Aaron Hicks experiment? You never know.) 

But here's the rub: All this last weekend, when you studied the two lineups, it just didn't seem fair. Boston offered a batting order of ascending young stars, top to bottom. The Yankees countered with - well - Anthony Volpe? Ben Rice? The Martian...?  

So... here comes Washington. Should we dare hope for a sweep? This is how the modern Yankees toy with us: Lose to good teams, beat the cupcakes, make the postseason, crap the bed. It's happen again, in slow motion. Howl, howl, howl...

 

Today . . . our most trusted, mature, level-headed, grounded,

composed, centered, non-medicated, mentally, physically and 

spiritually fit, fan loving player takes the mound to attempt

to save our 2025 season. 

What could every possibly go wrong ?

Happy 49 Day!!!

 

Reasons to be cheerful—well, one anyway. 

Yep, it's that time of year again. I almost forgot—but as of this morning, every single team in major-league baseball has at least 49 losses (So do the Jets, oddly enough, but I digress.).  

What does it mean? It means that no matter how many games any of them win from here on in, they cannot mathematically win more than 124 in this combined season and postseason.

Or let me put it another way: they cannot win the all-time record, 125 games won by your 1998 New York Yankees, the greatest single team ever assembled.

I won't bore you with all the reasons for why that is again.  Oh, okay I will:

—Those 125 total wins, most ever, against only 50 losses.

—Unlike the great Yankees teams of 1927 and 1939, they played after the breaking of noxious color line. Sure, those great teams might easily have had Black, Latin, and Asian players, if such were then allowed. But 1998 was, undeniably, the greatest team since everyone was allowed to play in the big show. And thus the greatest ever.

—1998 Yankees not only swept through the American League in the regular season, the playoffs, and then the World Series, but also beat up on all the National League teams they played in the regular season (13-3; 17-3 if you count the Series, or .850 ball).

—Even though we were well into the steroid era, no evidence has ever emerged that any Yankee was juicing (at least not in 1998).  Nor do their statistics reflect the common juicing aberrations.  In other words, they bulldozed an entire major-leagues full of juicers...without cheating themselves.

Can you imagine? Before we're out of August, those Yankees out-achieved every team in the majors this year. Hell, 49 Day would've come two weeks earlier, as it often does, without the Brewers' little 14-game skein.

For all our complaints, we must thank the juju gods on bended knee that we ever lived to see such a team. Perhaps the 21st century is the karmic burden we are paying back. If so, I will gladly do so.  

My friends, we have seen the days.

After "tough" loss, Yanks looking to "step it up" tonight.

Wow. You can feel it - pure, raw-boned excitement is brewing across the Bronx, thanks to the "strong message" delivered to the Yankees by Captain Judge. 

Sez the Yank firebrand:

"There's nothing we can do about the past 100-something games we've played. We've got to focus on what we can do now. That's all we can do."

By gum, Cappy's right! There's nothing they can do about the past 100-something games they've played. Those games are over, done, kaput. They been played. You can't go back and change them, unless you invent a time machine, and in the movies, whenever they try, they usually just end up having sex with somebody and conceiving themselves, even though it's weird. So, unless we want a dozen little Zolio Almontes running around the clubhouse, that's just not gonna work. Nope. As the Captain says, the Yankees have got to focus on what they can do now.  Not on what they did or didn't do yesterday. If you think about it, that's all they can do. Stated eloquently, sir! 

Likewise, Manager Boonie notes that Anthony Volpe's error yesterday was only "his first in a few weeks. He's been playing really well out there, made a bad throw." Russia, Russia, Russia.

Way to say it, Chief! I just wish more people listened, rather than getting bogged down on what happened in the past 100-something games, because there's nothing we can do about them and - wait! - I think this is the perfect time to mention Austin Wells Football Jersey Night, coming Sept 5, where the first 18,000 guests will receive an Austin Wells Football Jersey - just two days before CC Sabathia Hall of Fame Replica Plaque Day, where the first 40,000 guests - hopefully many will wear their new Austin Wells Football Jersey Night jerseys! - will receive a CC Sabathia Hall of Fame Replica Plaque. You'll want to hang them both over the mantle. Along with yourself. 

So, any day now, it looks like the Yankees will be almost ready to make their run in the AL East, when they try to chase down and "hog-tie" those pesky Redsocks from Boston. An AL wild card berth is up for grabs, and the Yankees soon will be almost ready to make their move! But don't get bogged down by what happened in those last 100-something games. Just feel the electricity? Wow. Hon joo, Yankees! 

What's up with Boone?

Boonie's Tattered Flag Cross hat, marked down to $49.10 at onetruegod.com, raises questions in a time of advancing Christian Nationalism in the US.

1. Is the picture real? I got it at BlueSky. Looks real to me, but I don't know. 

2. Does it offer clues to the workings of his mind? For instance, does it help explain, as River Ave. Blues posted, why they "traded for Amed Rosario, a terrific hitter against lefties, and the idiot manager just doesn't use him against lefties despite being presented with opportunities every single night"?

3. Is it, as stuntbirdarmy.bsky.social wonders, a right-wing pivot to save his job?  

4. Or is reporter Marisa Kabas correct in speculating, "andy pettite probably gave it to him."

G.T. – Saturday 08/23/25 – That's great, it starts with an earthquake . . .

 

Damn. The also-ran Yankees have done it again.

That's it. Enough. I spit on this team. Pttuuii. 

It's football season. You can feel it. The Jersey Giants are going to the Super Bowl. Everybody says so. Undefeated and untied, thus far. 

There's no reason to follow this Yankee travesty. None.

So... why? - why am I doing this?

I mean, gimme a reason - ONE STINKING REASON - why, why, WHY I spend two hours a night - three when they play Boston - wasting time, wasting heartbeats, wasting precious moments that I could be hosing the sidewalk or polishing the silverware - all to watch this insipid, stupid, nauseous inevitability - watching the Yankees flounder and flop. Again. 

Here we go - deja vu upon deja vu  - clutching our throats and crapping our Sealy's posturepedics, unable to score one run, one stinking run, while Boston eats our boxed lunches, once again. Effing Boston.  

Nope. I can't do this. I hereby decline. No justice, no peace! I mean, how, how, HOW did I get this way? What happened to me? Was it Thurman? Was it Reggie? Was it the transition from Mickey Mouse to Mickey Mantle, from Yogi Bear to Yogi Berra, from my scooter to The Scooter? Was it a childhood need to back some winner, some bet that would always pay off, some team that would always make me feel blessed, feel special, and not the faceless minion that has become my fruitless destiny? Because that winning team, that sure bet - it long ago became a millstone. And all because the owner sold it. 

So here I am, locked into a prison cell with an ownership, with a front office, with my personal Gishlaine - a cunning franchise that spends just enough to chase a wild card berth through September, to be always contending, to be slightly above .500 in a sport that spends six months to eliminate maybe the six worst teams, and then have your team declare itself a success throughout the primary media, which it owns. (YES is the Fox News Channel of sports. Why aren't they reporting on Boone's cankles!) 

Yep, here we go again. Here I am, booting up the Tankathon, watching smarter front offices rebuild - a word the Yankees cannot  speak. Boston spent four years rebuilding, and they just passed us. They're going to beat us like a drum for the next few years. Why, why, why... did I bother? 

Calgon Beauty Bath Beads - aka Jackson Dart - take me away!

For a change of pace, a winner

 

RIP, Ron Turcotte

The 2025 Yankees are no Secretariat.

It's time for football. Time to forget this Yankee team.

 

G(s)ame Thread – Fri Aug 22nd – A Different Kinda "Max Fried"

 

Words to heal from The Duke of Drivel

 

Nine walks, four errors, and George Costanza bobbleheads: Generous Yanks give away a game. Will the season come next?

Where do you start...? 

We all know what happened last night. You saw it. I saw it. Hal saw it. 

Putin, Springsteen, Brad Pitt - Ghislaine Maxwell, in her new luxury suite - they saw it. A million people - kids in Borneo, Eskimos, Floridians - everybody saw it. 

We saw the famous NY Yankees - the team of Ruth and Danny Tartabull - snivel at the perfumed feet of their millennial masters, the Redsocks of Boston, who actually represent Everywhere But New York. 

It was brutal. Pathetic. A phoned-in loss on national TV, a winnable game squandered by mental lapses that - at least this week - belong in Williamsport. Amazingly, it was commemorated by given-away bobbleheads for George Costanza, the mythical Seinfeld character who, in an episode from 1997, was fired by a fictional George Steinbrenner for napping under his desk.

Last night, the Yankees napped on the field. How awful was it? Well... 

1. They halved their loss column lead in the AL wild card race. (They're now one game ahead of Boston.)

2. They welcomed Boston's rising star, Roman Anthony, by botching an easy play at first base, then feeding him a wheelhouse burger for an upper-deck shot. It was reminiscent of Rafael Devers' 2017 three-run shot off Aroldis Chapman, a blow that set the table for seven years of torment by Devers. Here we go again?

3. They welcomed Chapman back home by going 1-2-3 in the ninth, the heart of our lineup, lunging at balls out of the strike zone, failing so quickly that El Chapo - an emotionally unstable perspiration machine - could even think about melting down.

4. They committed four errors - a fifth, by Ben Rice, was mercifully discarded by the official scorer.

5. They walked nine Redsocks. Nine. From six pitchers. Unbelievable. Every inning, Boston threatened. Every inning. The FOX hosts kept marveling at Boston's failure to break open the game, until - of course - they did.

6. They continually gave away leads, then abruptly shut down in the late innings, as they so-often do. Aaron Judge, in particular, looks lost since returning from his tweak. We're seeing the only thing worse than a lineup without Judge - a batting order where Judge is mired in slump. 

7. They relived not only the Costanza episode, but Game 5 of the 2024 World Series, when a cavalcade of errors led to Gerrit "The Pointer" Cole failing to cover first. Big game = defensive collapse. Sad.

8. They ended a five-game winning streak that, for a night or two, seemed to suggest they were making a run in the AL East.

9. They gave up the 2025 season series to Boston. If the teams finish tied, Boston will have the advantage. On the year, they are 6-1 against us.

I can go on. What's the point? You saw it. We all did. That pitcher from Frisco? Doval? Yikes. I never thought I'd say it, but we dropped Marcus Stroman, for this? Where's Scott Effross? What happened to Ian Hamilton? And that Bird guy? And Brubaker? Has he gone undercover into another prison system? Clayton Beeter? Wait. He's now a Nat. Who's going to pitch the 7th, 8th and 9th tonight? Dunno. But I can tell who won't: Max Fried. Holy crap, we've waited and waited for this showdown. Are we going to be undressed? For "YES," bobble your head. 

Gil Thread – Will Boston Luis' tonight in the Bronx ?

 

Five wins in a row does not solve the problem: The Yanks still have no closer

 

At his peak in Pittsburgh, David Bednar enjoyed the most epic and delirious entrance in all of baseball. 

As he stepped from the bullpen, PNC Stadium would suddenly take on a Stygian darkness. Then, to the 1978 Styx anthem "RENAGADE" - (O mama I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law...) - the lights would blaze, and Bednar would emerge. As he jogged to pitcher's mound, the crowd would enjoy a moment of mass self-immolation worthy of Springsteen, Taylor Swift and Weird Al.

Sadly, few people got to witness Bednar's grand illusion. The Pirates didn't win enough games. And then, Bednar fell apart. He went from a league-leading 39 saves in 2023 to just 20 the following season, and this year - before being salary dumped to the Yankees - Bednar was so shaky that he was exiled to the politically incorrect Triple A internment camp known as the Indianapolis Indians. He pitched five scoreless innings there and made his way back to Pittsburgh, just in time for the Aug. 1 trade deadline, when the Pirates jubilantly pulled the trigger.

Lately, there's been YES Network happy talk that Bednar - with a new uniform and scenery - had claimed the Yankee closer slot, still remembered for Mariano, Goose Gossage and - to a lesser but far sweatier degree - Aroldis Chapman, the Cuban Water Cannon. 

Last night, Bednar dispelled those drunken hopes. He could not hold a two-run lead over tomato can Tampa, yielding a drive off the bat of somebody named Hunter Feduccia - (doing his Feducciary duty?) - which came about 40 inches from being a three-run, walk-off HR that would have become one of 2025's most crushing moments. The Yankees won in extra innings - (thank you, Mr. Gio) - but once again, when the final three innings arrive, our legion of bullpen heroes look like - (as J.P. Donleavy would say in his masterpiece The Unexpurgated Code) - "the bootless and unhorsed."

Last night, we watched Cam Schlittler flirt with a perfect game into the 7th, only to watch a 3-0 lead unravel. Not even Luke Weaver - (who saved Schlitter with a bases loaded strikeout) - could hold back Tampa's murderous cupcake row. (To be fair, Luke gave up a HR on a pitch nearly a foot above the strike zone. The guy shouldn't have even swung at it.) Then, in the 10th, Devin Williams escaped a jam by fanning three Rays. The outcome was fine. It's the "escaped the jam" part that bothers us.

This weekend, barring a massacre of historical proportions, the Yankees will surely reach some late innings with a game on the line. Honestly? I dunno Who The Fuck comes in to hold that line. Here's the bullpen stats for the last 30 days. It's not pretty.

Worst part of this, the lack of a closer means that Aaron Boone will mix and match - Tim Hill for lefties, Your Name Here for everybody else. (Note: Hill and Mark Leiter are missing from the above list, they both fell below Hamilton. What it comes down to is this: Anybody can get the call.) 

On July 31, the Yankees traded for three bullpen arms, hoping to bring stability to chaos.  It didn't happen. There will be no more trades, and unless you're sold on Brent Headrick (currently of Scranton), there is no cavalry coming. What we see is what we've got.  

But but BUT... here we are! - two ahead of Boston! If we can take this series - that is, win three - we can put the bastards in our rearview. All we need is someone to pitch the seventh, eighth and ninth. Is there anybody out there? O, Mama, I can hear you a-cryin', you're so scared and all alone...  

Wednesday Game Thread – "YOU CAN ALMOST SMELL THE URRRRRGENCY"

Nine shots, nine takeaways

They should all be like last night. 

Five run lead in the second. Continual onslaught. Padding of numbers. Starter goes six. Luke Weaver not called upon to save the day.

Nine HRs, nine ponderings...

1. Five were solo shots. Altogether, HRs accounted for 12 runs. Not complaining, but this team still must learn to move runners, sacrifice, manufacture runs.

2. Redsocks now two down in loss column. They will come to NY behind us.

3. Soggy Tampa clearly needs a dome, instead of another internment camp.

4. Toronto's Yankee hatred - (see Vlad Jr.) - now boosted by "Elbows Up" national indignation. Young pitchers. Hitters in walk years. We're four behind.

5. Screw the HR derby. Yanks now place four in AL Top 25. (Judge, Bellinger, Chisholm and Grisham.) 

6. For the record: 

Bellinger: 24HR, 75 RBI, .272 BA, .825 OPS.
Soto 31HR, 72 RBI, .251 BA, .886 OPS.

Bellinger far better defensively. But Soto has adorable smile.

7. Yanks need another laugher before Boston. Bullpen needs rest.

8. Yanks need Stanton and Judge in the lineup. Stanton can handle small RFs, such as Yankee Stadium. Cannot roam vast spaces.

9. Yanks love Goldschmidt's heart. Can he sell his soul for one last autumn.

Game Thread 08º19º25 – EUREKA! Our Next New York Yankees Manager ! ! !

 

Giants voice pushes book

So I'm listening to the Giants radio broadcast last night because I'd rather hear Jon Miller than anybody and with two outs in the top of the seventh, Miller's broadcast partner Dave Flemming starts enthusing like wild over Hoss' book. It's so great to hear that I rush to order a hard copy to go with my Kindle one. Well, it's at Mary's urging. She says, "A book like that, you need to be able to see it on the shelf."