5 Days Later...

I've been sick for a couple of weeks (something told me not to inhale the white powder from that letter with the return address, "Anonymous"...) so I'm playing catch up. (Just like the Yanks will be doing most days over the next five seasons or so...)

The November 7th post by Alphonso only now caught my eye. Great idea, playing the Rod every day at third, even if he has to ride a personal scooter to do it. (Pictured here, the ME:GO 4-Wheel Heavy Duty Personal Mobility Vehicle/Mobilizer in rich metallic blue, only $7,990 on eBay. I'm sure the Rod could get it custom-pinstripe-painted at Earl Scheib Paint and Body, conveniently located on Bruckner Boulevard in the Bronx.)

The suggestions in the comments were stellar. I'm Bill White opined that the Rod should play short, like he used to before he darkened our towels as a Yankee. (You get the Marx Brothers references or you don't. Sorry.) KD mused that perhaps Roddy could be our new hitting coach. ("Bend over, boys, it's time to inject some life into this lineup!")

Duque had an interesting idea: player/manager. That would make for a lot of new rules.

1) Save your wheels, just piss where you are.

Isn't Rodriguez a common name in Belgium?

2) Mandatory hip surgery for everybody who strikes out a lot. 

3) OK, try the other hip.

4) Backless dugout for easier access to field box babes.

5) Floor to ceiling mirrors anywhere they ain't.

6) Karate chopping drills in Spring Training.

7) "I got it" lessons in Spanish, Mandarin, and Japanese.

8) Ladies WWF matches On Demand for free.

9) Bud Selig dart board in clubhouse.

10) Bud Selig punching bag in weight room.

11) Bud Selig urinal cakes everywhere.

12) Retired or not, Jeter's benched.

My eyes must be going

While the Yankees poor-mouth, Boston quietly pushes forward

Baseball beats Interstellar in teaching the Yankiverse about wormholes.

Consider the Evil Empire. Darth Cashman is searching for a wormhole back to that magical season of 2014, looking to re-sign the Bore Four: Chase Headley, Chris Capuano, Brandon McCarthy and Stephen Drew.

I can't tell you how exciting this is. Words aren't enough.

Through this wormhole of wonder, the Yankees will find a world without age or injury. All those former stars who fizzled last year - that is, numbers 3 through 7 in the batting order - will raise their averages by 100 points. Don't ask how. Also, A-Rod will disappear without gaining us anything, an increasing certainty.

We've seen the movie. We've seen the back pages. Obviously, Hal Steinbrenner wants him gone, which means Darth Cashman wants him gone, which means Billy Madden wants him gone, which means the chain-rattling ghost of Dick Young will rise up and wave his giant, Gin-swollen dildo/pen until something happens, and we can look forward to Zelous Wheeler. Our corners will be held by San Diego's notorious LOB-machine, Chase Headley, and the rising young comic, Mark Teixeira - who together last year drove in 109 runs. Nope, they'll both suddenly get younger and hit to all fields.

Dear God, are we screwed, or what?

Meanwhile, the Redsocks are courting Pablo Sandoval and Jon Lester - if not Max Scherzer or James Shields. Last fall, they signed the Cuban "Brett Gardner with power," Rusney Castillo - who came up and hit 2 HRs. They will add these to a slew of prospects, including Mookie Betts, and the hot whoosh we will feel in May will be of another team passing us on the way up, while Cashman moans about how unlucky the Yankees are, due to injuries. Oh, if not for all those injuries...

Nope. Words fail us. We need disco lights, a dead planet and Matthew McConaughey hawking a car.

Last July, when Boston tanked, its ownership recognized what Shallow Hal cannot seem to fathom: There is a tomorrow, and sometimes, you ought to consider it. They didn't, when they re-signed A-Rod. They didn't, when they doubled-down on CC. They didn't, when they gave Jacoby Ellsbury seven years. Now, the Redsocks can sign the Panda without surrendering a top draft pick, and Boston is flush with cash, while Hal pulls out his pants pockets and poor-mouths to Madden and his fellow ladies of the secretarial pool. Of course, Boston wouldn't give a 38-year-old Carlos Beltran a three-year deal, as the Yankees ludicrously did last year, so I guess it doesn't matter.

So now Cashman - speaking expertly from both sides of his mouth (must be a wormhole in there) - says a) he has no expectations for A-Rod, but b) fully expects Beltran to return to form in 2015. Oh? Did he, by chance, watch Beltran last year? It's fair to wonder what A-Rod has left, but this is the exact style of crapola that Cashman blathered last November about Alfonso Soriano. When the Gammonites re-trowel the Dark Lord's insane mutterings, do they ever mention Alfonso, or Vernon Wells, or Travis Hafner, of Andruw Jones, or all the other stumble-bum retreads the Retrieval Empire has trotted out over the last four years, as we flutter through this wormhole into the giant black hole?

Yet we re-sign Chris Young, and here we are - nervously crossing our fingers and hoping Chris Capuano returns the call. GAHHHHHHHHHH...

OK, throw me a rope. Not the one with the noose. I gotta climb off this ledge. Maybe Cashman is just playing dead. Yeah. That's it. Maybe Hal will leap out from underneath the desk, blow a noisemaker, yell 'SURPRISE!' and we'll sign the Cuban OF, or the Korean SS, or the Japanese pitcher, or somebody, anybody, who was not on last year's horrible, soul-draining team. Jeez, you'd think Chris Capuano won 20. He won two and lost three. His ERA was in Joba Chamberlain territory. Next season, he'll be 36. He's our hope? Dear God, what a wormhole. And what a bunch of worms.

Veterans, thank you for your service. Did you know you fought for this?

Cashman: "I have no concern about Beltran's health."

Seriously, what could go wrong?

The IT IS HIGH Yankee Fan Hall of Fame: Inductee WILLIAM FRAWLEY, alias "Fred Mertz"

"A rabid New York Yankees baseball fan, Frawley had written into his "I Love Lucy" contract that he did not have to work during The World Series if the Yankees were playing. Considering the 1950s New York Yankees were in eight of the 10 series during the decade, this did cause Desilu a few problems and Frawley does not appear in two "I Love Lucy" episodes due to this clause."


Truth.

(Thanks, SJS)

Cashman makes drunken, wild-eyed, pie-in-the-sky prediction for 2015

Print the playoff tickets. Book your B-&-B reservations for next October, because Brian Cashman is optimistic that the Yankees can be in the 2015 playoff mix.

Mind you, this is better than being hopeful. Any clod can have hope. He's optimistic, which means not pessimistic. Which is good. He's optimistic that the Yankees can be in the playoff mix. That beats saying they could be in the playoff mix - because Colorado could be. Also, the phrase playoff mix rouses the billiards, eh? Last year, the team finished six games above .500. (Winning three of the final four, establishing momentum for 2015.) With the new extra wild card, practically everybody but Joan Rivers was in the playoff mix. And now, Cash is gushing with expectations.

"If we make a couple of moves like we did in-season, if we can run into a few things that have a chance to make us better, I think we can get right back in the playoff mix," Cashman said.

I hope we don't explode with overconfidence. But it's reassuring to hear that a) we don't intend to sign any top free agents, b) we'll continue to ignore incoming Cuban players, and c) our farm system is still anemic at the top levels... but we'll hopefully snag another Chris Capuano in July! We can get right back in the playoff mix.

Staci Bakanowsky of Staten Island is the world's greatest fan

Why didn't I write this?

(Thanks, NA)

Like every catcher until the end of time, Russell Martin wants Brian McCann money

Five years and $75 million, plus you give up a draft pick.

What team would give a catcher that kind of deal?

(Thanks, SJS)

Yankees "intrigued" by Elvis Andrus

According to a report from Joel Sherman, the Yankees are "intrigued" by the idea of trading for Rangers shortstop Elvis Andrus.

As opposed to being "captivated" or "fascinated," or "enchanted."

Maybe they are "transfixed." Or "beguiled."

I doubt they are "smitten." I hope they are not "infatuated."

The Rangers have him for eight years at $120 million. I suspect they are "obsessed" with getting rid of him.

David Robertson to Yankees: I'm not a one-year stand

He rejected their qualifying offer.

He wants to see the world.

Christmas comes early for John and Suzyn

Brian McCann says he'll actually consider hitting to left field.

(Thanks, SJS) 

Roll call of magical names: 2014 additions to the all-time "They were actually Yankees list"

Drum roll, please.

Feel free to use Kleenex,

as the memories crest.

Chaz Roe.

Josh Outman.

Chris Leroux.

Bryan Mitchell.

Wade LeBlanc.

Bruce Billings.

Rich Hill.

Cesar Cabral.

Alfredo Aceves.

Dean Anna.

Scott Sizemore

Antoan Richardson.

Eury Perez.

Jeff Francis.

Could 2015 bring us the same Yankee team... plus A-Rod?

Chase, Chris, Brandon, Zelous and Jeff Francis. Remember him?

Here's an idea: Put up that rejected school budget for another vote! See what happens!

The Evil Empire grapevine is buzzing with anticipation about the team skillfully re-signing its Big Three: Chase Headley, Brandon McCarthy and Chris Capuano! But why limit our dreams? If Cashman can also snag Stephen Drew, we would have the new Core Four. Good grief, we've already outbid the Hiroshima Carp and Subway Corp. Food Services to keep OF Chris Young.

And I'm not even going to mention Zelous Wheeler, because I don't want to get people's hopes too sky-high.

So... when the final out of 2014 was recorded, you took comfort in believing you would never again have to gaze upon this sorry bunch of Mets and Padres.. am I right? But, realistically, what are the Yankees' options for giving their roster a Lifestyle Lift?

1. They really can't trade Tex or Beltran - wait, let me rephrase:  Nobody wants Tex or Beltran, so we're stuck with them.

2. They can deal Francisco Cervelli or David Phelps. That ought to bring us someone on the level of a Headley, a McCarthy or a Capuano. The possibilities are limitless, if you are a 12-year-old who thinks the Nats will trade us Bryce Harper for 50 Slade Heathcotts and David Huff. Probably, in any deal for Cervelli or Phelps, we'll receive a Cervelli or a Phelps in return.

3. They can empty the farm system for somebody famous, such as Tulo from Colorado, who can then hot tub the season with A-Rod, in shared hip therapy. Or they can get another 2010 all-star, now digging his fingernails into the chalkboard, as his career descends. We could probably get a decent player for Severino and Judge, our two top prospects, and just figure the world will end between now and 2018, so why bother thinking about such things?

4. They can anticipate the biggest change: The swap of Jeter for A-Rod. Is that an improvement? Who knows? At least if A-Rod doesn't hit, they won't be locked into batting him second all season. If he doesn't hit, they'll hide him in the dugout and hope the stadium's new metal detectors work.

Maybe Cashman actually convinced Hal that the 2014 Yankees were a good team, which could have snagged the Brass Ring, if not for all those nasty, pesky injuries. If so, that's an impressive oratorical achievement.

So... could we just double-down, and put the same budget up before the voters? One way to alter the outcome is to lower the turnout. Maybe this time, it'll pass.

For the Giants' remaining away games, opponents should give Tom Coughlin farewell gifts

Like a drone.

Or an exercise video.

Or a tape measure.

He'll need them in his next job.

Uh-oh. Another Yankee prospect might have just bitten the dust

This kid made a huge comeback last season after a pile of wrist issues. Conceivably, he could have reached NYC late next year. Now... Slade Heathcott II..?

Yankeetorial: Why baseball needs A-Rod

Last Sunday, my favorite football team, the Giants, did not play. They were busy practicing to crap the bed on Monday night.

Normally, without a Giants game, I'd spend Sunday afternoon like everybody else in Syracuse - chopping off a frostbitten finger, or freeing plows from snow drifts. But last week, I had a fallback: The Dallas Cowboys.

I hate the Cowboys. I hate Jerry Jones. I hate Tony Romo. I even used to hate Roger Staubach. What kind of bile bag could hate Roger Staubach? A guy who watched him shred our defense for 11 years. That’s who.

Football doesn't tells you to root, root, root, for the home team, 'cause if they don’t win, it’s a shame. Football tells you to fight. If your team loses, it’s Defcon Four in the parking lot. 

Recently, the TV Gammonites were predicting a crisis for the NFL, which had enough bad publicity to sink a Kardashian. There was Ray Rice’s video cold-cock, and the Abu Ghraib photos of Adrian Peterson’s whupped kid, plus that nasty little 30-year cover-up of brain damage due to concussions. Still, the NFL hasn't lost one fan, aside from maybe that Dallas guy who died of Ebola. And the reason is simple.

In football, once your fave is banned for, say, a triple homicide, you always have somebody to loathe.

Which brings us to the recent World Series between the KC Royals and SF Giants. If it didn't go seven - the last game drew a respectable 13.7 million viewers - TV ratings would have hit all-time lows. There was nobody to hate.

How can you pushpin a Buster Posey doll? The Royals? I can’t even dislike them, much less work up precious spittle.

To regain prominence, MLB needs someone to hate.

It needs the Yankees.

I speak not as a Yankee fan, but as a patriot - a caring supporter of the game.

MLB needs to cut this bogus luxury tax crapola and let the Steinbrothers buy an honest championship. 

Last season, we were not only a slappy team, but we were a slappy villain. Because of the retiring Derek Jeter, our worst enemies couldn't even hawk up the necessary phlegm to make games interesting. Considering how nicely the Redsocks treated us at the end, we might even have to rethink our hatred for Boston - which is wrong, people, goddammit, IT IS WRONG!

Fortunately, there is a tunnel at the end of the light.

Alex Rodriguez.

Imagine the ratings next October, if A-Rod leads the Evil Empire into the playoffs. Instead of towels, they'll hand out pitchforks. 

Let's go baseball! Halt these anti-A-Rod hysterics, before somebody actually does something stupid, like release him. There's money to be made. It’s time to wake up and smell the bile.

Reason why the Yankees never develop young players No. 139: Chris Young is about to re-sign

Last September, the Yankees found OF Chris Young in a Mets' dumpster and took him home. They washed him, buffed him, greased his hinges, and he looked spanking brand new. (Why does that sound dirty?) For two weeks, he looked solid, batting .282 with three home runs! They thought, "Good grief, if he can hit like that for an entire season, he'd smack 50!"

Apparently, they're about to make Young the official Yankee Broken Antique of 2015 - a/k/a the Ichiro, the Andruw, the Alfonso, the Hafner, the Roberts and/or the Vernon Wells. Yep, when a guy plays well for two weeks in September, it means a two-year deal next spring! (For reference: See Brendan Ryan.)

In other words... here we go again.

Insert sigh here.

Let's ignore that Young is a) not young - he's 31, b) peaked in 2010, c) hasn't hit more than .236 in the last four years, d) hit .200 in 2013, e) was discarded by the Mets last summer after batting .205 over nearly 300 tortured ABs. Nope. Never happened. He had two good weeks last fall! He'll play like last September... not like 90 percent of the last decade.

This jolly Christmas rumor/news comes one day after the Yankees discarded the lonesome dove of Scranton, Zolio Almonte, a/k/a, the official Melky Mesa/Austin Krum farm system whipping mule. Let me now acknowledge that you are shaking your head: Nobody wants to hear me claim Zolio Almonte was ever going to hit for us, because frankly, he didn't.

But here's a question for your bagel and scotch:

Which would you prefer? (a) A guy on the way up, or (b) a guy on the way down?

If you chose (b), congratulations, you can run the New York Yankees.

In recent months, assorted Gammonites and single-celled vermin of the Yankiverse have screamed about the Yankees' barren farm system. But I now see the system as an exercise in efficiency: Why develop young players if you're never going to give them a shot? Just fill Scranton with dead end careers and plummeting former stars, and you can create a massive morale abyss, from which nobody ever escapes.

To visualize the way Yankee prospects must view Scranton, you'd need Christopher Nolan and a billion dollar budget.

Congratulations to Brian Cashman! Congratulations to Chris Young! Congratulations to us all. And to those who said we should not re-sign Ichiro, sorry. We just did.

Pat Venditte, the switch pitcher, is no longer a Yankee

Bill Veeck would have loved him: The lone pitcher of his - or any - generation to throw from both the left and right sides. You better believe, Veeck would never let two crappy seasons end without bringing this guy up, at least in September, to sell a few tickets.

Well, for better or worse, Brian Cashman is not Bill Veeck. (Though Veeck would have appreciated the Yankees' "farewell tours," which sold out the stadium despite mediocre teams.) He became a six-year free agent today. (So did Zolio Almonte and Nik Turley, a distant relative to Bob.)

The frustration of being a Yankee diehard is having guys like Venditte bouncing along for eternity in the minors, and fantasizing how good they'll be. You wait for them to get a shot, but it never comes.

I can't claim to know more than the Yankee coaches and scouts, who apparently decided Venditte's pitches won't fool major league hitters.

Still, it's frustrating to watch guys slog onward, forever stunted in Scranton. Venditte threw six years for us with a career ERA of 2.46. In 2012 he seemed slow close... but tweaked a blingy and spent 2013 in ice buckets, returning to form.

The Yankees spend more on minor league free agents than anybody, so if Cashman wants him, it's possible we'll re-sign him. But I'm hoping Venditte hooks up with a new Bill Veeck. He needs a team that's willing to take a chance.

Frankly, we all do.

Just Let Him Play, for Cripe's Sake !!

I see a lot of blathering about A-Rod.  Is he or is he not a scum bag?  Who cares?

A few things are likely true:

1.  It was the Yankee ownership's stupidity that they re-signed A-Rod to a longer, more lucrative contract when, " no one was competing for his services."  This blog, and every fan I knew realized it was the Yankees only chance to get out from under the A-rod contractual burden. The opportunity was like a gift from MLB. And, sure enough, the brain dead Yankee owners, re-signed him in some sort of panic fog.  So the remaining $61 million is on them.

And all the related issues of having him around, are on them.

2.  A-Rod has always chased the money.  What an insight.  Wouldn't we?  If I could milk out one year doing something I really like, something like playing ball, I would grovel and keen in front of anyone for the $20 million one year would bring.  So let's not blame him as some sort of pig.  He is like all american male pigs.  Only he gets more action.

3.  The Yankees have already folded their tent for the next several years by re-signing the architect of failure, Brian Cashman.   So let's stop pretending we are going to win anything by keeping Chase Headly, Brian McCarthy and Steven Drew in the fold.  Let's stop pretending that AAA first
 baseman ( Bird ) will be given a chance to replace our .220 slugger, Texiera, at first base.  Let's stop pretending that there will be any " baseball reasons' to watch the Yankees next year.

But here is something the baseball people can do;  start A-Rod at 3rd base and play him 9 innings, every game, every day.  He will earn his money that way.  If he pulls muscles, strikes out, can't get to pop-ups, keep him in there.  He is our guy at third for the next three years.  This will be worth tuning in for.

Don't yield to any of this DH crap, where he gets to sit all day, spit pumpkin seeds and strike out.  Let him play.

Maybe, like a light bulb on the way out, he flashes brightly.   Maybe he goes dark early. Whatever he does, it will make no difference in how the Yankees do.

This team is not going to see the playoffs.

 But watching A-Rod earn his money will be worth something.

Brendan McCarthy, Chris Capuano and Jason Hammel: The Yankee free agent targets poem

McCarthy, Capuano and Hammel.
The Yankees top-targeted men,
We'll accept any cost-controlled mammal. 
It's 2012 again.

Hammel, Capuano, McCarthy...
Hal sure is spending his dough!
Let's plan the World Series party.
Can we maybe add Derek Lowe?

McCarthy, Hammel, Capuano...
Our future sure looks keen.
Another Alfonso Soriano.
See you in 2018.

A-Rod super-villain crime of the day: He duped the beloved and trusting Steinbrenner family into a fraudulent contract

"If George were alive, you can be sure he would be doing everything in his power to get retribution for the $275 million contract A-Rod signed with the Yankees under false pretenses in 2007...

Dare I ask again...

Did he cold-cock a woman? Abuse a child? Triple homicide? DWI manslaughter? Murder-suicide? Gang shooting? Did he text pictures of his dick to a female reporter? Did he, for off-days entertainment, train dogs to tear each other apart? Did he, for profit, lie for a generation about the effects of head injuries on his employees?

Is he the only guy to use steroids, or the only guy to get caught in the net of a million dollar manhunt? If all this was so incredibly evil, why did the federal government pass on an investigation? Have there been other 10-month probes, featuring cash bribes, into how other stars, such as David Ortiz, secured their drugs?

And now he duped the innocent Steinbrenners into a bad deal? Dear God, they must have stared into his evil, Svengali eyes...

OK, yes, I know... Alex Rodriguez pees on floors. He is an egotistical scumbag.

But he's being run out of town by egotistical scumbags.

A-Rod crime of the day: Peeing on floor of cousin

“He peed on the floor. He was so arrogant, he came into my house like he thought he was a god.”

P-Rod?

"A Yankees source told me they could break even financially with a $500 million payroll expenditure..."

Kiley McDaniel of FanGraphs tells how the Yankees snatched Yangervis Solarte, why money is piss, why the sparrow is immortal, and Scranton is always full of fogies. 

SEIZE HIM! The Gammonites, secure in self-righteousness, are marching with torches on A-Rod

Hollywood loves to invent new, excruciating ways to die. My fave was in the Star Wars sequel, when Jabba the Hut tried to throw Luke and Carrie Fisher into a pit, to be digested alive over the next thousand years. Ouch. Still, I can think of one worse way to go.

Death by media.

Yep, you're killed by a billion paragraphs, byte to byte, for as long as people will click onto your link.

And it's on: The chicken coop pecking party for Number 13, Alex Rodriguez.

We've seen this movie. We know how it ends. If you thought A-Rod will ever swing a bat for the Yankees, think again. Once the Gammonites flock together, it's like a sky full of flying monkeys, flapping and crapping, and blotting out the sun. It just grows louder, until the target falls.

Wait: Before you accuse me of the most wretched thing anyone can do - defending A-Rod - let's recognize that, in the end, he'll get what's coming. They all do. He's served a 211 game suspension, lost practically two years, but the worst days - it's the silence of shame that hurts most - remain. Still, yesterday, when news popped that A-Rod last year admitted his drug use in court proceedings, the media's gush of self-righteousness once again broke the fish scales.

Two weeks ago, they were screaming that A-Rod needs to confess. Now, they scream that he did. Whatever he does, they'll scream. They won't stop until he's gone. It's over, folks. Hal Steinbrenner will cut his losses, Bud Selig will get another statue, and Barry Bonds can sleep in peace, forgiven in Frisco.

The Daily News, which at one point two summers ago had five reporters investigating A-Rod - (Hey, Newhouse School, there's a object lesson in journalistic priorities!) - took a victory lap yesterday, calling Mike Francesca - the radio talker who dared get A-Rod's side - "a fool."

The Gray Lady's Juliet Macur, who generally is on the noble side of reality, today calls A-Rod "disgraced and despicable ... brash and brainless"... and dealing "with a whole new set of drug revelations." (Which, frankly, isn't true. This is the same period we've already dealt with, and for which Rodriguez has served his punishment.)

But yesterday's hungriest glutton for the low-hanging fruit was Mike Vaccaro, the once proud columnist for the Olean Times Herald, now a full-time razor-mouth for the Murdoch Post. In a "Death to Smoochy"-level tirade, Vaccaro cut some old-fashioned corners, the kind that would have gotten him booted from the St. Bonaventure locker room. He centered his attack on that wonderful, but long-discredited claim that A-Rod sleeps below an oil painting of himself as a centaur.

This is someone who has already done time in the public docket for cavorting with strippers, for going bare-chested in Central Park, for kissing himself in a mirror, for having a PAINTING OF HIMSELF AS A CENTAUR, and this was before he set the one record for which he is likely to be officially credited forever, the longest steroid ban in the sport’s history.

Let’s back up a bit in case you missed it: The man had a painting commissioned with his head on a horse’s body.

Vaccaro linked this accusation to a five-year-old, Halloween Eve, brief in US Weekly, which was wrapped around an unnamed source. Of course, compared to the New York Post, an unnamed source in US Weekly must seem like a signed deposition from Winston Churchill. Trouble is, the A-Rod-centaur story - for all its beauty and grandeur - has been roundly debunked. Vaccaro apparently decided it was too juicy to research beyond the third reference on a Google search. In his quest to destroy A-Rod, why let journalism get in the way?

His column ends with Vaccaro literally calling A-Rod names, like a third-grader shouting from across the street.

Again: CENTAUR... this is what Alex Rodriguez is now, the Sultan of Caught, the Pay-Hey Kid...

Yeesh. Does Rupert Murdoch pay these guys by the hyperbole?

I hate to be ripping otherwise nice guys. I also hate to be the only person in the world defending A-Rod, the poster boy for a generation of players, whose biggest mistake was not buying his drugs from more secure networks in the Dominican Republic. Twenty years from now, people will be scratching their heads over all this bile and indignation. And sadly, I fear they'll all be wondering how the Alex Rodriguez story would have played out, had he been allowed to come back.

Increasingly, I doubt that will happen, because sports writers - some of the biggest party animals on earth, and the last people who should be dictating social morality - intend to scream and stomp their feet until A-Rod goes away.

Jeez. Do the right thing. Just throw him in a pit and let him be digested over the next thousand years. But spare the "Sultan of Caught" from another round of hypocrisy.

Gammonites phone in another gold glove to Dustin Pedroia

Dustin Pedroia, flashing the leather than won his 4th Gold Glove.

I realize that under terms of the Secret Honorarium Agreement of 2014, the Yankee fan base is supposed to someday give a chair or cowboy boots to Dustin Pedroia, in a teary ceremony where Bobby Valentine rappels from the right field mezzanine - to pay back Boston for the great way they handled Derek Jeter's finale.

And I want to underline that, without any hint of snarc: The Redsocks did us right in that final game, and someday, we must put aside all our differences and give them a jolly good cheer, pip-pip, and all that.

But another gold glove for Pedroia? Nope. Sorry. Not now.

For starters, he's been hobbled all year. Pedroia played 122 complete games. I use that number - complete games - because the Redsocks were taking him out, to rest him. 

Listen: Pedroia is a great one. And he is a great fielding second-baseman. He made only 2 errors last year - two! ("Home cooking," it was what they call the official scoring.) I just think Ian Kinsler, Brian Dozier, that kid Jose Altuve from Houston, even Robbie - they all played more games, handled more chances, and I believe covered more ground. Some of these writers, they have certain names programmed into their keyboards. If a Redsock was going to win a gold glove, it should have been Jackie Bradley Jr. I wouldn't have even squawked.

So... where do we find a pair of size five cowboy boots?

Admiral Halsey, R.I.P.

Dressed as Elvises on the last road trip of 2004, left to right, it's Bubba Crosby,
Brad Halsey,Dioneer Navarro, Scott Proctor and Andy Phillips.

Brad Halsey died yesterday at age 33. Damn. The guy was young enough to still be pitching.

Halsey was one the pinpoints of disagreement between Alphonso and myself at the close of the Millenium - which, for the Yankeees, happened in 2004, the year everything ended. I was certain that Halsey would be the next Andy Pettitte, but Alphonso pegged him as the next Brandon Claussen. Our debate raged all summer.

The Yankees drafted Halsey in 2002, as the ace lefty of the University of Texas' national championship team. Damn, he had Pettitte written all over him. In two seasons, he rose to Columbus and was killing it. That summer, he was 11-4 when the Yankees called him up. I was touting the guy for weeks, but Alphonso wanted none of it. (He was heading into his doom and gloom phase, which is now 10 years long.)

Frankly, Alphonso was right. Sort of. The Admiral's ERA that year was above 6.00. Still, he made history. He was the starting pitcher in the game against the Redsocks, when Jeter dove into the left field seats. (Later, he'd give up Barry Bonds' 714th HR.)

The following winter, the Yankees dished him off to Arizona with Dioneer Navarro and the now-cursed Javier Vazquez - deliverer of the gopher-grand slam by Johnny Damon, which officially ended the Yankee dynasty. For the three, we obtained the aging Randy Johnson, who never fit into NYC. Vazquez bumped around and returned, no better than before. Navarro has cobbled together a decent catching career, and hurts the Yankees, every chance he gets.

Halsey bounced from several teams, the 11th man on almost every staff. Alphonso wins the debate, though I'm sure that doesn't make him feel good today. The Admiral actually finished his career in the Yankee farm system, hoping for a comeback. Funny how that goes, eh? What was the line by Tooter Turtle in that Vietnam Era cartoon, (the one with secret anti-war protest:) "Twizzle, Twazzle, Twuzzle, Tome/Time for this one to come home." They always do come home.

This was when the Yankees were weaving the long sad braid of Ed Yarnells and Sam Marsoneks, the steady stream of young pitchers who would sour us on the future. Last summer, when we traded Rafael De Paula for Chase Headley, most of the fan base didn't bat an eye. Still, I prefer to believe in these guys - be it a Refsnyder or a Pirella or anybody. For every 100 pebbles, you pan one piece of gold. But damn, it's so great when you find him.

Listen: In a lot of ways, Brad Halsey was just a speck in the ocean. He shouldn't be inspiring wistful memories. But damn... 33? Jeez. That's way too soon. That's grade school kids. That's a grieving wife. That's not it's supposed to be.

In another world, somewhere out there, it's still the old Millennium, the Curse of the Bambino still lives, Brad Halsey is still pitching, and Alphonso is happily eating crow. But that ain't here, eh? Condolences to the family. Twizzle, Twazzle, Twuzzle, Tome...

The New York Giants are brilliantly horrible

Last night, on the first play of a series, they were called for delay of game.

I mean... wow.

How do you do that?

Your team gets the ball. Your offense jogs onto the field. You huddle. You've called the play on the sidelines, right? At this point, there shouldn't be a big debate on what to call. You say the play, break from the huddle, and everybody jogs up to the line of scrimmage.

The Giants run a no-huddle offense. They are supposed to move fast, keep the other team unsettled. How is it that on the f*ing first play of an f*ing series, you can't f*ing snap the f*ing ball in the f*ing time allotted?

This is absolute genius.

This is the next phase of human evolution in mediocrity.

New York City... The Paris of culture, the Mecca of finance, and the Podunk of pro sports.

The tap from Cuba is wide open. Did the Yankees screw themselves by signing all those 16-year-old Latinos in July?

The latest sensation from Cuba is 19-year-old infielder Yoan Moncada, who will soon turn his head and cough for an orchestrated assembly of MLB Cliven Bundys. Unless Moncada's stool samples show traces of Ebola, he'll will sign a huge, set-for-life contract - even though he's probably a year away from the majors.

The Gammonites say Moncado is that kind of talent, the type who could hold down SS for a generation. No, he couldn't replace Derek Jeter. But wouldn't it be nice to have a rising young Yankee SS, instead of a declining Hanley Ramirez, with injuries on speed-dial?

Ten years ago, Moncada's future in pinstripes would be a done deal. Old George knew a sideshow attraction when he saw one, and nothing captures back pages like a mysterious Cardiff Giant being wheeled in from the tropics or the Orient.

But like other recent Cuban arrivals - who have rearranged the MLB power structure - Moncada probably won't sign with the Evil Empire. That's because the Yankees have already overshot this year's international spending allotment, according to the rules of MLB. Thus, they'll face a 100 percent signing tax - (yes, players union officials, salary caps come in many forms) - which puts them at a huge bidding disadvantage against small market billionaires. (Yes, folks, every MLB team is worth a billion. For info, google "Los Angeles Clippers.")

How did the Yankees paint themselves into this corner? Last summer, they launched an unprecedented spending spree, signing several top Latino 16-year-olds to multi-million dollar contracts. As a result, for the next two years, they can't sign an international player for more than $300,000. Good luck, amigos.

(By the way, when the Yankees are officially removed from auctions, the price for talent decreases. All the other billionaires can save some hard-earned dough!)

Listen: It's currently impossible for the fan base to measure the success of the Yankees' strategy. Will these 16-year-olds start a new dynasty in 2019? Who knows? But the track record for 16-year-old millionaires is spotty at best. For every Miguel Cabrera, who arrived with a Platinum card, there are five Ricardo Aramboles and five more Jackson Melians. At age 16, the testicles are still descending, and the kid's heart hasn't even been broken. Weird things happen to 16-year-old millionaires. Did you ever see Jose Tabata's wife? When my boys were 16, I didn't trust them with a $20 bill. Is it wise to make such huge investments... so early in a kid's life? Jeez, I dunno.

I should note that the Yankees are not alone here. The Redsocks and Rays - two well run organizations - have also flown over their spending limits. Still... I wonder:

Did the Yankees know that Moncada would be coming? (They probably knew of him, but I doubt anybody could have predicted he would come this soon.) If they could have known, would they have gone so far over the international spending pool, knowing how it will limit them? And does anyone know what kind of talent will be emerging from Latin America over the next few years - while MLB continually cracks down on free-market spending?

I'm not saying the Yankees botched this. Time will tell. But the Yankees always seem to be chasing some crazy scheme. In the early 2000s, they boldly signed pitchers with barking elbows - Humberto Sanchez, Mark Melancon, Andrew Brackman, et al - assuring the Gammonites that pitchers come back from Tommy John surgery stronger than ever. Well, we now know that TJ surgery is no sure thing, and many pitchers - especially young, developing ones - never figure it out.

Sometimes, I wish the Yankees would simply try to win by doing what other successful teams do - scout, draft and develop players. That would mean keeping top draft picks. That would mean taking a chance on rookies. And when a team is as lifeless as the Yankees were last August, it would mean dumping the dead wood, instead of doubling down and trading for more ancient veterans.

Well, let's not kid ourselves. That's not going to happen. It's the nature of an Evil Empire to always be plotting evil. But does evil work, when it means missing out on Yoan Moncado? Maybe it's time to start asking.

What you get if you search for "Yankees incompetent" on Google Images

Anybody look familiar?

No, no, NOOOO! Don't tell me the Yankees would really let David Robertson walk

Wait a minute. Am I dreaming? Or is "nightmare" the better word?

The free-range Gammonites are saying the Yankees may let David Robertson sign elsewhere, so Hal Steinbrenner can save a few nickels on the likes of Chase Headley or Hanley Ramirez, the 2015 version of Alphonso Soriano.

They'll move Dellin Betances to closer, because - as everybody knows - it's such an easy and seamless transition. Under the New Yankee Frugality, Brian Cashman needs to cut corners, and the Evils didn't lose enough games in the ninth last year to remember what it's like to go without a lock-down arm in the bullpen.

Calgon Beauty Beads... take me away!

Surely, somewhere in Florida, Brian Cashman is sitting in a seedy motel, staring at a wall push-pinned full of newspaper clippings and mugshots. He sits for hours each day, like Carrie in "Homefront," looking for connections. But if he's decided the Yankees don't need a closer, dear God, somebody give him his meds!

The fact is, the Yankees and their fan base have lived fat, drunk and stupid for nearly 20 years, because we had three of the game's finest closers - Mariano, Rafael Soriano and David Robertson - and like the song goes, "ya doe know whachew got 'till it's gonnnn."

Today, the front office will hand Robertson a $15 million one-year qualifying offer. That's good. But he's going to reject it. When that happens, they need to offer him a three-year deal and a raise, and when he's done pitching for the Yankees - hopefully around 2024 - the Yankees will still have at least one legacy position on the field.

"Legacy position."

Isn't that a funny-sounding phrase? What does it mean?

Well... when I grew up, nobody doubted that the great New York Yankees would always have a great star in centerfield. It would be Tom Tresh, or Roger Repoz, or Bobby Murcer - or somebody. The Yankees were synonymous with star centerfielders.

Then we waited 40 years, until Bernie arrived.

Of course, there was also the great Yankee catching legacy: Dickey, Berra, Howard, Munson... and then insert 20 years of Matt Nokes and Andy Hassey... and, finally, we find Jorge.

Well, folks, Brian McCann won't be the next Jorge. Nor have we found hope from our vaunted catching prospects over the last eight years - Jesus Montero and Austin Romine, (and increasingly, we suspect Gary Sanchez won't be the answer.) Now, they're touting another peach-face way-way down in the system - Luis Torrens is the name - but frankly, if we're talking about modern Yankee legacies, the greatest one lately is to promote catching prospects who go nowhere.

Wait... we did have one great future legacy position: Shortstop. In fact, we had the last five years to draft, develop and season a successor to Derek Jeter. The dimensions of our failure are - frankly - astounding. We're not even close.

So... that leaves the Yankees with one future legacy position: Closer.

Yep. Last year, David Robertson did the impossible: He replaced the great and powerful Mo. He's been a Yankee all his career. He's smart. He's wily. He's a quality person. Are we seriously going to save a few dimes and watch him run off to Washington?

Listen: If Seattle gives him $250 million over 10 years, let him go. Otherwise, Cashman better swallow some meds and stare harder at that poster-board. WE NEED DAVID ROBERTSON TO STAY A YANKEE.

What you get when you search "Yankee pumpkins" on Google Images

It's really quite impressive. My fave has to be the CC pumpkin, bottom row.

The light at the end of the Yankee tunnel might just go by the name of Greg Bird

Yesterday, Yankee 21-year-old 1B Gregory Paul Bird was named the Arizona Fall Instructional League All-Star Game Most Valuable Player. As awards go, it's sort of like winning the Topeka Press Club Award for Best Newcomer in Radio Journalism. But hey, it beats being first-runner-up.

Bird, who last week was named the Evils 4th best prospect in the annual Baseball America beauty pageant, is among the batting leaders in every category in the Arizona toddler league. He's 6'3, was drafted in the 2011 fifth round out of high school, as a catcher, and was the Colorado high school player of the year. The Yankees spent big to keep him from getting a college education. He moved to 1B because of a bad back. In 2013, he led the minor leagues in walks, and suddenly popped up on Yankiverse radar screens.

Last spring, the back flared - yep, a troubling omen - and he missed April. I figured, "Oh, well, they come and they go..." In May, Bird went to Tampa, started slow, and then caught fire. He hit 7 HR in nearly 300 AB with a .277 average, which was steadily rising when they bumped him up to Trenton, Double A. There, he hit 7 HRs in 95 ABs.

It's been a while since the Yankees had a bull goose-loony prospect at 1B. You go back to Nick Johnson. And there are many reasons why Greg Bird is just another flavor of the week. (A bad back tops the list.) But, goddammot, this is November... Day One of the Off-Season, which is the time to dream about how great players might be, rather than think of how disappointing they were last year.

Bird is the guy you can imagine batting 5th for the Yankees in the 2015 post-season.

Come on, folks, step up to the tap and drink the Kool-Aid with me...

Imagine...

Bird has a solid spring training. He hits a home run in an early game, Zolio Almonte-style. He draws some walks, makes a great play at first, gets himself a star in Girardi's clipboard.

He starts at Trenton. His back feels fine. Last year, he hit .256 there. Now, he hits .290 with 15 HRs. On June 10, they move him to Scranton. Usually, that means being stuck with a behind some 29-year-old ex-Brewer. This time, the Yankees are under new management. They put him at cleanup. He rakes. He's hitting .310 by August 1, and we all know what's coming.

The injury to Teixeira, of course.

Wait! What's that? You say we'll have A-Rod backing Tex up at first? Well, how about a tweak to Mister Golden Hips, as well!

Last year, after Teixeira, the Yankees awarded first base to a bunch of converted catchers. At one point - I'm not lying here - they played Carlos Beltran, who hadn't played 1B since high school.

Dream with me. It's mid-August, and the Yankee infield has Greg Bird at first, Rob Refsnyder at second base, Martin Prado at 3B, and somebody - have another hit of Kool-Aid - at SS. It's not perfect, folks. And we're all going to wake up with a hangover.

But it's so much better than what we've seen in 2013 and 2014. Walk toward the light! It might be death. It may be the next world. I don't care. Think about Greg Bird. Think about hope. WALK TOWARD THE LIGHT, EVERYBODY. WALK TOWARD THE LIGHT.

Breaking: Threat levels raised as America braces for nurse in Maine who is not quaranteened

A new great is added to the IT IS HIGH Yankee Fan Hall of Fame

Today's Gray Lady profiles Brooklyn's top cricket player.

We are proud to add The Brooklyn Cricketeer to the 

IIHIIFIIc Yankee Fan Hall of Fame. 

He joins the Greatest Yankee fans in history, such as... 

The Fan Who Shot Khadaffi

The Kid Who Appeared at Kim Jong-Il's Funeral

The Sex-in-Restroom Stall Yankee Couple

The Google Images Default Obnoxious Yankee Man

The Incredible Suing Sleeper

The Fan Who "Told Off" Robbie

Harry Potter

"The Bronx Bomber," Henry Kissinger

The Mysterious Cameron Diaz-Obsessed Yankee Fan

Bruce Almighty's God

And, the greatest Yankees fans of all time...

The Unknown Fans Who Put Tacks on Ed Whitson's Driveway