It's no surprise that the Yanks re-signed Paul Goldschmidt. What's shocking is that he wanted to come back.

As most of the Yankiverse mutters "Meh!" let's be among the first to say what should be shouted.

WELCOME BACK, GOLDIE.

Yes, he'll run hot and cold. Yes, he'll bust a dweezle and miss July and August. Yes, his range has shrunken to the length of a Toyota Corolla. That said, he's our Golden Oldie! our Olden Goldie!, and let's welcome him back to Hell. 

In case you missed it, Paul Oldschmidt Goldschmidt is re-upping with the Evil Employer in 2026 for $5 million, which is what Hal Steinbrenner annually spends on clam dip. He's 38, old enough to appear in the Epstein files, but nobody sweats Goldie's rep. He brings to Gotham a veteran glove, a RH bat and a positive cosmic clubhouse presence.

Okay, let's not lie here. We all wanted more than Year II of Goldie. And he might be done. (Last February, who thought DJ LeMahieu's game would so totally collapse?) He'll platoon at 1B with Ben Rice, our great hope, who showed such promise last year, who might hit everyday, and who might even become a frontline catcher.

So, here comes Goldschmidt, for another slice of the Bronx. 

At least he knows what he's getting into. 

Last year, Goldie started hot and fizzled, ending at .274 with a meager 10 HRs - worst power output in his 15 season career. In October, he went 4-9 - nothing but singles. At 38, he makes a case for Cooperstown. (Check the list: four of his 10 doppelgangers are in the Hall, with Votto on the cusp.) 

Listen: We all have doubts about doubling down on the 2025 team, the same lineup - one year older. You have to wonder if this isn't going to be a complete bust of a season. 

But let's give Cashman one credit: 

It's ballsy as hell. 

And if it fails, shit is gonna fly.

So, welcome back, and go-go Goldie!