Why some of us are ridiculously over-reacting to the Tejada signing

Last year, I took much more joy from the farm teams than the Death Star. Once it became clear that the Yankee mother ship had stalled, leaving Chris Pratt and Jennifer Lawrence as the only passengers on board, destined to fall in love and uncover a dark secret - (coming to theaters everywhere!) -  I began paying more attention to Scranton box scores than to see how Chris and Jennifer - I MEAN, CHASE AND JACOBY! - were doing. I had simply seen their movies too many times.

In 2017, I am prepared to once again live The Trenton Totality! And that's why some of us reacted so pissily, so angrily, to yesterday's otherwise nondescript signing of ex-Met Reuben Tejada. I mean, really - why should we care? The guy is a veteran backup SS who spent 2016 recovering from a nationally televised mugging. (Remember: Chase Utley.) He's a lug nut, a used wrench. He's not Stephen Drew. He's more Chris Parmelee. So we should set down the pitchforks, right?

No. Hold onto the fork, folks. However minor the move is, signing Tejada suggests a reason NOT to believe the Yankee crapola that the franchise has changed its ways - or that it has learned anything over the last four wretched years.

The deal with rebuilding via prospects is very simple:

You don't just collect 'ems. At some point, you gotta play 'ems.

And in Mr. Girardi's Cook Book, that's still a question. The signing of Tejada means either Ronald Torreyes or Rob Refsnyder - or both - could wind up back in Scranton, as 2017 Yankee versions of The Walking Dead. It reminds us that Cashman will spend the next two months combing the beaches with his metal detector, looking for another Scott Sizemore, Brennan Boesch, Brent Lillibridge, Thomas Neal, Lane Adams,  et al - who can send Tyler Austin, Mason Williams, Greg Bird - even Aaron Judge - back to Triple A, if they happen to have a bad March. As I look at the 2017 roster, Austin is especially susceptible to such a dismal fate - and the guy hit .323 last year at Scranton! How can you send him back?

At some point, you gotta play 'ems.

At this point, let me unveil the OFFICIAL IT IS HIGH FOUR-LEVEL INSTINCTIVE-YET EMPIRICAL SCALE FOR JUDGING YANKEE HITTERS:

When the guy comes up to bat, without thinking, you do:

LVL I. Stand in front of the TV, bolt yourself to the unfolding drama, assume juju stance and prepare to fight!

LVL II. Look up from your iPad, vaguely aware that something might happen.

LVL III. See this as a good moment to hit the bathroom.

LVL IV. Stand in front of the TV, imagine Brian Cashman and Hal Steinbrenner in furry, full-body rodent suits, and scream obscenities at the cosmos.

If he's on the Yankees, Tejada will send me to the LVL III pisser.

It's Chris and Jennifer - I MEAN CHASE AND JACOBY - that bring me to LVL IV screaming.

So with that out of the way, let's ponder the 2017 Scranton box score lineup - at least for now. Surely, Cash is still trolling for used parts. Here's where the Railriders could land on the Instinctive-yet-Empirical Scale.

c; Kyle Higashioka (LVL 1)
1b: Mike Ford. (II) Tyler Austin? (Scream)
2b: Pete Kozma (bathroom), Rob Refsnyder (Scream)
ss: Tyler Wade (LVL I); Reuben Tejada (Scream)
3b: Ronald Torreyes (Scream); Miguel Andujar (LVL I)
lf: Clint Frazier (LVL I)
cf: Mark Payton (LVL 1) Mason Williams (Scream)
rf: Jake Cave (LVL Ia)
dh: Garden variety Ike Davis clone

Pitchers: Obviously, it depends on who makes the mother ship. But it could be Bryan Mitchell, Chad Green, Luis Cessa, Brady Lail, Jordon Montgomery, Eric Ruth, Matt Wotherspoon, Gio Gallegos, Dietrich Enns, various spare tires. Is Sidney Ponson throwing?

Some talent there. But for everybody's sake, let's hope and pray that Refsnyder, Austin, Torreyes, Williams - and especially Judge - are not banished to Scranton because they go 0-for-8 in Bradenton. How depressing would that be? We spend a whole year rebuilding... then fill our roster with middling vets?

Last August, having nothing to lose, the Death Star tried youth. As a result, we enjoyed the best two months of the season. Now, we have a small wave of emerging players. But the question remains: Will they all get a full shot?

Yesterday, even though it was a minor thingy, the Yankees signaled a return to the vets.

I cannot live through another 2012... 2013... 2014... 2015...

At some point, you gotta play 'ems.  

Ahhh, hubris!

By February, they'll be asking if it's the best ever.

I'm starting to feel better about our chances.

Scranton to host Reuben Tejada?

I understand why the Yankees sign infield depth, and certainly, light-hitting ex-Met Reuben Tejada fills that bucket defensively. But the other day, I was pleasuring myself by thinking this could be the first year in my lifetime when the Yankees' Triple A team is filled with prospects, rather then parachutes...

And now Scranton's starting shortstop will probably be Reuben Tejada.

Don't get me wrong. It's not a bad signing. It's smart. It's paying attention to details. It's insurance, in case Didi discovers a tumor or something.

Silly me. I was just thinking that maybe Gleyber Torres or Jorge Mateo... or especially Tyler Webb (22 years old, hit .259 last year at Trenton) could play SS. Now... we're back to an old guy.

The Yankees have nothing like Odell Beckham Jr.

One thing I've learned over the millennia: Juju only works for the Jersey Giants when things are so rotten that you've started rooting for the asteroid. Only after you've started sipping the Draino can good things happen, and then they might win five straight and take a Super Bowl. Go figure.

Trouble is, your acute depression cannot be faked. You must be catatonic, suicidal, ready to put your forehead through the TV. Last night, that's where I stood in the third quarter, before the Giants got the ball to Odell Beckham Jr. - for whom there is no equivalent on the Yankees, or maybe in all of baseball.

The putrid Giants offense could not rush for a first down against Trump's hair. Last night, I was screaming for Ben McAdoo's firing and flipping the TV whenever NBC showed that ultimate small-handed WASP, owner John Mara, as Al Michael's voice assumed a reverential tone worthy of Jesus. I was like an alchy, vowing to quit the Giants forever - to even root against the team and revel in its downfall. Then Beckham caught the ball and raced 60 yards to score.

Today, it reminds me of a catch by Victor Cruz in 2011, the last time the Giants snatched anything more meaningful than a stripper's pastie. It was Christmas Eve, Alphonso was visiting, and we watched in a bar, away from impressionable kids. The Giants were down 7-3 against the Jets, with Eli Manning throwing from his end zone. Cruz caught the ball, dodged a tackler and - whoosh - 99 yards. He was high, he was far, he was gone. Alphonso started screaming and refused to stop - nearly got us booted from the bar. I am choosing my words carefully now, aware of just how pathetic this makes me sound: It was the most joyous moment of that entire Christmas.

Listen: On an existential level, I hate the Giants and the NFL - two utterly soul-less entities that trivialize patriotism, dehumanize women, print dirty money, steal from taxpayers, and grind their players into dust. That said, I've blindly rooted for the Giants since the days of Y.A., Gif, Sam, and Ro-Lo-Mo-Ko. In all that time, Giants juju never worked. I watched without the psychological crutch of magical thinking. It leaves me terrified... but goddammit, there is no sports equivalent to Odell Beckham Jr. All you can do is be amazed.

The 2017 Yankees will be a team in search of a superstar, the guy who can - woosh - win a game from our own one-yard-line. It won't be Matt Holliday, who is simply too old. It cannot be Aroldis Chapman, who will only appear with a lead. As nice a player as Didi Gregorius is, he's no reality-altering star. Somebody must emerge - Aaron Judge, Clint Frazier, Jorge Mateos, Gleyber Torres - somebody. It might be none of the above. But somebody has to explode. And none of them will be Odell Beckham Jr.

I don't see the Giants winning anything this season. The reason is simple: Winning last night's game pulled me off of Suicide Watch. I'm no longer drinking the turpentine. Thus, the Giants cannot win. The rules of juju metaphysics this winter are strikingly simple: Nothing bends 'em like Beckham.

The obligatory Giants "big game tonight" thread

Why, you ask, are we bothering to waste precious Yankee speculation space on the Jersey Giants? Isn't there some new angle on Rob Refsnyder that we should ponder? What about the rumors that Nick Rumbelow's dog has ringworm? Why would we ever consider the most frustrating sports team in NYC - and yes, I am including the Knicks, who long ago lost the ability to frustrate anybody.

Tonight, as you know, the Gints play the Dallas Cowboys, the NFL version of the Yankees, who are run by a man I despise and sort of appreciate: Jerry Jones. He may represent the last pro owner in America who would rather win a game than make money. (Some owners do this temporarily, but their long term loyalty always returns to the partners.) All you need to know about Jerry Jones is that on the night he opened his billion dollar football stadium - Jerry World, it's still called - he had scantily clad ladies dancing in elevated cages, like on Shindig.

As for tonight, I have absolutely no doubt the Giants will lose because a) I've watched their games this year, and their 8-4 record is as bogus as those news stories about the pizza parlor where Hillary grooms her sex slaves. b) We beat them on opening day, and Dallas has been smarting ever since, and c) they're the Giants. This is what they do. Even in the rare Haley's Comet-like occurrences where they suddenly march to the Super Bowl, they still fill their season with pain and humiliation.

Big game tonight. I may still watch the half-season finale to The Walking Dead. I hear Rick is getting pissed.

Sunday "Nothing Happened Yesterday" Wrap-up

Hardworking Panda Bear is now so thin Redsocks will rename him "Kellyanne."

Under owner-friendly financial structure, middling teams go nowhere. Welcome to MLB version of the NBA, where selloffs are the new norm. White Sox just the latest. (Essay question: Did the Yankees wait too long to see this? Boston certainly understood it.)

NYC politician grumbles about signing girlfriend-choker Aroldis. Insult to fans, bad message to children, poor role model, etc. I get it. But didn't we already do this?

Showalter "throws shade" at Yanks. (Who made up that a phrase? Beyonce?) Buck says Evils won't trade with O's, unless it's somebody "they wanted to pass off on us." True dat. Can we give them Hicks?

ESPN thumbsucker on worthiness of big bullpen contracts. Lotsa numbers. Made my head hurt. WAR, WPA, wOBA, wRC+... Trust me, you'll get more answers in a PBR.

John Sickels rates Top 20 Yankee prospects. Always entertaining parlor game. So much future star dust, read it with a whisk broom.

A Yankee-hater's take on Cashman

Required reading.

Do I hear a "ten?" Who wants to buy a genunine Felix Lopez 2009 Yankee World Series ring?

Someday, Martin Scorsese, or HBO, or the Bigfoot Channel - somebody - will make a big-budget biopic on the Steinbrenner family - baseball's version of the Ewings from Dallas, if crossed with The Munsters.

You'll meet Hippo Hank, the chain-smoking blowhard; Food Stamps Hal, the tightwad Dan Quayle-clone; Jolly Jessica and Jiggly Jennifer, the requisite evening gown vixens; and, of course, the Trumpian leviathan himself, Old George. Each would be a hot air balloon filled with hope and despair, good and evil, brains and buffoonery. But the two most fascinating characters - (I'm seeing Christian Bale and James Franco) - would be the ones that got away.

The first would be Steve Swindal, Jennifer's ex, who served as a Yankee general partner from 1998 to 2006. In 2005, Swindal was selected by George to be his heir apparent - the next Yankee scion. Who couldn't love the idea of a Yankee owner named Swindal bossing around a GM named Cashman? You can't make this stuff up. I figured the Swindal must possess an instinctive, Machiavellian genius - marrying into the family and becoming its patriarch. He'd make a good owner.

But the juju gods didn't bite. Swindal had a messy DWI and the marriage went south. Shit happens, you know? His name vanished from the masthead. He moved to the Dominican Republic and launched a prospect factory, buying and developing young talent. At least in 2012, he was on decent relations with the family. Imagine being tabbed to run the Yankees, and then ending up in a Third World meat market. Life, eh? Come on, Scorsese, you gotta want this!

Then there is Felix Lopez, Jessica's ex, who saw a similar trajectory. A Cuban-born construction company president, Lopez married into the team and made the masthead in 2005. For whatever reasons, and I can think of some bad ones, the NY Post never gave him any respect. They called him a former "landscaper" who "rose from the mulch to become an executive vice president." They didn't use the word "gold-bricker," but you got the picture. Lopez was put in charge of rebuilding the team's complex in Tampa, and seemed bulletproof within the organization until 2015, when the divorce papers were filed. Then - poof, gone - we all know the drill.

But something else happened. The Yankees took some parting shots at Lopez, blaming Lopez in whispers for the ongoing fiasco known as Yoan Moncada. They emerged in a 2015 story by the tabloid columnist Billy Madden, who noted Lopez' slur-like nickname within the Yankees: The Gardener.

Other than having hit the lottery by marrying the Boss’ daughter, Lopez’s primary duties were the overseeing of construction projects (and cost over-runs?) at Steinbrenner Field and the Himes Field minor league complex, and dabbling (often times without the knowledge or approval of GM Brian Cashman) in the Yankees’ Latin America scouting operations — most recently, I’m told, with an unauthorized heavy hand in Yoan Moncata negotiations that effectively ended any chances of the Yankees signing the Cuban free agent.

Yup. They actually blamed the Moncada debacle on the Cuban guy. Meanwhile, the Yankees were still defending their utter cheapness, stressing the high $63 million price tag paid by Boston. (Of course, this week, the Redsocks converted Moncada into three years of Chris Sale, and quite possibly the next few AL East titles.) Other Lopez tidbits were teased. As far as I know, they never tumbled out. Everybody sort of shut up.

But to Yankee fans, Moncada and now, Chris Sale, should remain a symbol of a dysfunctional family, which boiled over into a dysfunctional franchise... and then which scapegoated the outsider. Pretty rancid, no?

Wednesday, Felix Lopez puts his 2009 World Series ring up for auction on invaluable.com. It's expected to sell for between $3,000 and $4,000. It's an icon of Yankee pride, and a symbol of love gone south. This diamond ring, it don't shine for me anymore... Come on, Scorsese, pass on the ring and buy the movie rights - before Damon and Affleck get their hands on it. I BID TEN DOLLARS!

Just Wasting Time

I have a sports question.

What are we supposed to conclude when we hear that a player is, " officially questionable?"

OK, Trump supporters, explain away THIS!

Does he also have a plan for Grady Little?

How we beat Boston in 2017

It won't be easy. Let's face it: The next two World Series likely will see Boston v. Theo Epstein - the two elite dynasties of baseball - while the Yankees grovel for the Selig Cup, that miserable one-game wild card.

But but BUT...  it hasn't happened yet. We don't have Boston's prime rib buffet. What we do have are the juju gods, who don't take kindly to hubris - the mother's milk of every Redsock fan. (It has been ours in the past; have we learned?) As Kenny Rogers Shakespeare said, "There are things out there in heaven and hell, o noble Epidermis, so you gotta know when to walk away, and when to run." Boston's Justice League of America still needs to win 90 games. Way I see it, they have yet to win one. So here's our 10-point 2017 Action Plan.

1. We need frayed elbows and tweaked gonads. Of course, this goes against my moral code: I never wish bad things on a fellow human being. Live and let live... and if we meet again, it is beautiful. That said, how about a nice outfield collision! A Beltran flip, or a concussion - NOT a fracture - good God, what do you take me for? Boston needs injuries. They just traded away Yoan Moncada, their great insurance policy for if and when Dustin Pedroia spins a nut sack, which he will. Their front line pitchers - Price, Sale, Porcello - have thrown a gazillion innings. I certainly don't wish to inflict pain on these fine fellows. But Trump wants to bring back waterboarding. I say, bring back voodoo dolls.

2. The Panda Bear, Pablo Sandoval, needs to stay consistent - as in consistent washout. Boston won't say it aloud, but they secretly think he'll lose weight, hit .280 and turn into Albert Schweitzer. Good luck on that. He'll be 30 this year. He played 3 games last season, and the year before, batted .245. That year, he gave up switch-hitting, going lefty the whole second half. Moncada was also their 3B insurance policy. They also traded away Travis Shaw. If Sandoval is bad, he makes Chase Headley look desirable. We need bad. Have another cheeseburger, Pabs!

3. Andrew Benintendi must not become a star. Not at least in 2017.  He's just 22, and even though he hit .295 in 34 games last year, he's still on double-secret probation. The league's pitchers must figure him out. Otherwise, aw shit... it's not fair: They draft Benintendis, and we draft pugs - and nobody in our front office ever gets fired. If Benintendi is the real deal, they have a virtual all-star OF. So... we need him to be an illusion.

4. They have problems in the bullpen, but who doesn't? They talk about signing a veteran arm. Somehow, they always have salary space, while all we hear is how poor, sad, penniless Hal Steinbrenner has no wriggle room in his fanny pack. They spent $60 million on Moncada and $90 million on Sandoval, yet they don't poor-mouth, which has become Food Stamps Hal's go-to mentality. All we ever hear is how expensive these players are. Still... their bullpen - it could be a problem - (like everybody else's.)

5. They might have a weakness at catcher. Last year, Sandy Leon came out of nowhere and played way above himself. A 27-year-old nobody - never hit a lick anywhere - comes in and hits .310, with huge clutch HRs. But but BUT... by end of the season, he was Melba toast. In the last month, Leon hit .177 - over the last 14 days - .087 - and he was benched. He won't hit .300 again. We have them beat at catcher.

6. Hanley Ramirez is still Hanley Ramirez. I believe they would trade his ass in a Boston Minute if somebody would take him. Yesterday, they signed 1B Mitch Moreland. Problem is, they have lost far more than Big Papi's warm-hearted, adorable grin: They have lost 38 HRs and a .315 hitter in the three-hole. That's a hell of lot of production to kiss goodbye. And Hanley Ramirez is Hanley Ramirez.

7. The evolution of Jackie Bradley continues. He's a great glove in CF, but his bat dramatically tailed off last year. He hit .296 in the first half - was leading the league in May, when they voted him to the all-star team - then he fell to .233 in the second half. The guy can't hit lefties. Boston waited on him for three years, but there have been rumors he's been dangled in trades. If he's a .290 hitter, they're unstoppable. If he's .230 - well - he's a slight notch above Aaron Hicks. Ouch.

8. We need another Gary Sanchez. Of course, it must be Aaron Judge. If Judge fails, he'll not only drag us down for three excruciating months, but he'll kick our youth movement in the nuts. Yes, we'll still have Clint Frazier in Scranton, but until these prospects hit in the majors, they are dust projections on the wall. Last year, Sanchez gave us hope. We need another Gary.

9. Don't forget our old friend - Boston, itself. The city is foaming sea of negativity. When things go bad in Boston, it's the worst place on earth - even worse than near that volcano in Iceland - to play pro sports. The talk shows grow fangs. People throw batteries. One thing leads to another. This year, anything less than a World Series will be a disappointment. The frat boys don't like disappointments.

10. It's all about October. Way I figure... if everything above, 1 through 9 happen, Boston still wins the AL East. They're that stocked, and we are that uncertain. But but BUT...  if we can take the Wild Card, it's a three week show. In that moment, we could be the rising team. Hey, can we hire Tom Coughlin?

Axisa: Yanks Normalize Domestic Violence

My favorite Yankees writer (present company excepted), Mike Axisa of River Avenue Blues, put the Chapman signing in disturbing focus today (emphasis mine):

Don’t forget how this started. This all started because Chapman did something terrible in his house with the people he cares about the most around him, terrible enough to warrant a police investigation and a 30-game suspension that would have been longer had he not cut a deal with MLB to maintain his impending free agency. That ugliness created the reality of Chapman in pinstripes. The Yankees are hoping some 105 mph fastballs will make everyone forget all about that, and based on the reaction over the summer, it’ll work. But the people whose lives have been damaged by domestic violence won’t overlook it. 

The Bob Dylan Literary Abstract

The times, they a-change.

*

It’s going to rain hard - really, really hard.

*

Something’s going on. Don’t bother to ask Mr. Jones.

*

I can’t make it to this year’s North Country Fair. It’s very windy up there. If you go, check out my ex. Her hair is long. I hope she has a warm coat. 

*
I’ll get in trouble for this, but whenever she takes stuff, she’s a typical woman. Likewise, in the sack, she’s a woman. When she aches, same deal: Textbook definition of an adult female. But if anything goes wrong - woah - suddenly, she’s a little girl. That’s right. Total whack job.

*

They don’t care who you are. They’ll stone you. Why? Because they said they would. When you’re going home, they’ll stone you again. You can be on the road, minding your own business - they will stone you! Don’t take it personally. They are bastards.

*

To whom it may concern: I am hereby tendering my resignation from the staff of Maggie’s Farm. Though grateful for the opportunity to work with Team Maggie, I’ve grown tired of Maggie’s Pa putting out his lit cigars on my face. Also, I would suggest that Human Resources check Maggie’s actual age. She is 68, not 54, as commonly claimed.

*

Hey, you, with the tambourine! Play something. I don’t care. I’m wide awake, it’s a jingle-jangle morning, and my boot heels - aw, screw this - YOU GOT ANY DRUGS?

*

… So the thief says, “No reason to get excited.” Yeah, right. I mean, we’re only stuck out here, it’s late, it’s cold, the wind’s howling, they drank all my liquor, and half these guys think life’s a frickin' joke. I’m thinking, there must be some way to get the hell out of this song. There’s too much confusion. Then two guys ride up. I'm in luck. One is Jimi Hendrix! 

*

“Ma,” I say, “I really hate to ask this, what with your bad hip and all, but could you go out back, dig a hole in the ground and bury my firearms? Yeah, the AK-47s, the Glocks, the whole stockpile. If anybody asks, say I got tired of shooting them. You don’t need to dig too deep. This is for a movie soundtrack.”

*

Alright, lady, have it your way. Go ahead and lay. Yeah, you heard right. Lay. Just lay, lay, lay - right across this big brass bed. Lay all night. I don't care. Have your cake and eat it too. You know what she says? She says, “You mean lie on the bed, right? Way to go with the grammar, ‘Mr. Voice of the New Generation.’” *

Get away from my window! What are you doing there? You stalking me? I’m not the one you want, babe. You want some big lug, who’ll protect you. I weigh 130, including guitar. I’ll get the crap beaten out of me. How about if we try Johnny Cash on this?

*

“Wait, I got it!” I say. “How many seas must a white dove sail before she finds a beach, you know, like, to sleep on?” The room goes quiet. “Well,” Seeger grumbles, "it aint gonna win no Nobel Prize for Literature, but let’s give it a whirl.”

Brian Cashman: Analogy Guru Generator

"If it is the NBA, we're in the pack of contenders looking to take Golden State down."

Brian Cashman
December 7, 2016

________________________________________________________

"If it is the Alamo, we're in the band of Texians looking to take President General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna down."

"If it is 1 Samuel, Chapter 17, we're David looking to take Goliath down."

"If it is Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, we're in the group of rebel spies trying to steal the plans to the Death Star."

"If it is Hank Steinbrenner, we're the owner of the Chinese buffet with the all-you-can-eat special hoping to fill him up on rice."

"If it is Olan Mills Family Picture Day 1977, we're the photographer trying to make Young Hal Steinbrenner smile."

"If it is any sports broadcast on cable or network television, we're the dad trying to deflect the question 'what is Viagra?' from our 8-year-old daughter."

"If it is..."

We just got killed in the Rule 5 draft

We lost:

Luis Torrens, 20, a high-ceiling, highly-sought catching prospect. This really sucks... though it might be temporary. To keep him, the Reds (correction: He was later traded to San Diego) must stash Torrens on their 25-man roster all season, and he's barely played above Single A. It's hard to imagine him ready to catch at the major level.

The last time the Yankees were so crappy that they drafted kids and held them all year was terrible, horrible, rotten 1967 - the heart of the Hoss Clarke Era - when they drafted Charles Sands and Frank Tepedino, both 19. Neither played a lick all season, and neither had a meaningful MLB career. Basically, sitting on the bench all year gained them nothing.

This totally sucks. To stash any kid all year is tough for a major league team - if San Diego had a one.

Also, we lost...

Tyler Jones, 27, a RH-pitching lug nut, to Arizona.

Caleb Smith, 25, a LH version of Tyler Jones, to Milwaukee (later traded to Cubs)

Tyler Webb, 26, a LH combination of Tyler Jones and Caleb Smith, to Pittsburgh.

Amazingly, nobody selected Jake Cave, the lefty OF who played last year in Scranton. If Gardy gets traded, and we face injuries in the OF, Cave could actually become a cog.

In the minor league phase of the draft, we lost hard-luck pitcher Ty Hensley, 23, our first-round draft pick in 2012. Poor guy, it was one thing after another. What is it with guys named Ty? In one morning, it's as if our entire stock of Ty's has been depleted!

In signing Aroldis, Yanks channel Sally Fields

M

Mission accomplished. We got our man. Today, we are Arby's: WE HAVE... THE MEAT!

When winter began Nov. 2, that stick of pepperoni hanging next to the ice skates, the one we most coveted, was Aroldis Chapman. For six weeks, we forded a river of saliva over that wonderful, spicy prong of muscle. Meanwhile, all we heard was that El Chapo wanted to come home, to play for us, and that we wanted to sign him.

And yet... we'd become so conditioned by Hal Steinbrenner's penny-pinching that nobody - not I, anyway - anticipated last night's triumph. Nope. We figured the Nats or Dodgers - some team looking to win - would grab him. We'd spend today watching talent leave through the Rule 5 draft, while the YES happy talk machine touted the virtues of Reuben Tejada... another ride to Boone Logansville.

No. Aroldis is ours. He liked us. He really liked us. He wasn't just saying so, to be kind, to be gracious, or to gin up the bidding. MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYBODY! HE LIKES US, HE REALLY LIKES US. 

I, of course, am typing this from the tub, in a celebratory Calgon Bath Oil Beads haze. I will spend the day in these curing waters, contemplating contemplations, such as:

1. Signing El Chapo doesn't sabotage the Yankee youth movement. In fact, his presence should calm a young bullpen, lessening PTSD from bad outings. Luis Severino can return to the rotation, rather than pitch the eighth. Both Chapman and Matt Holliday should fit our long term plans. (If we signed a 3B, what about Miguel Andujar? If a 1B, what of Greg Bird?) We've supplemented prospects rather than blocking them. Hot damn!

2. Just days after the new players union agreement has been fully digested, we are seeing a scramble for top prospects. The White Sox launched a fire sale, and in one day scored enough young studs to put them above us on the suddenly all-important Baseball America prospect rankings. I think we're seeing the results of the new CBA: In its quest for parity, baseball is becoming the NFL.

3. With that in mind, here is a very real fear: The Redsocks could become the New England Patriots. For starters, they're willing to cheat. They have plenty of money. And they've had a fruitful farm system for so long now that we take it for granted. Teams want their prospects, because of the track record. Boston has assembled a stable of veterans and rising stars that very much resembles the Yankees of 1996-2000 - even a future Core Four: Bradely, Bogartes, Betts, Benintendi. Moreover, they have a smart owner, who built an empire rather and inheriting one. Yikes, the water in this tub just turned colder.

4. If you were to rank teams in the AL right now - I mean, today, this minute, right now - not bothering to think about where Jose Bautista and Mark Trumbow wind up - here's my guess:

Divisional Champs: Boston/Cleveland/Houston
Wild Cards: Texas/ Kansas City
Close But No Cigar: Seattle/Yankees/Baltimore
Close But No Camel Filter: Detroit/Oakland/Toronto
Tomato Cans: California/Oakland/Tampa/White Sox/Minnesota

On this scale, the Yankees sell tickets into September - the most critical objective of the team these days. Without Chapman, we would fall in that lower tier. And if a few prospects don't pan out, we could be so bad that President Trump is tweeting about us.

5. Once again - third year in a row, in my opinion - the most important figure in the Yankiverse is Aaron Judge. If he becomes a star, there is hope. If he fails, we are fukkinay screwed. It's that simple. The worst scenario is utterly terrifying: He's a bust, we punt on him, then he becomes a star elsewhere. Fortunately, we also have Clint Frazier. But everything hinges on some outfielder to evolve. We cannot afford more Slade Heathcotts. (Wherever he is, I wish him the best. No hard feelings, not from this bathtub, not today. Hey, it just didn't work.)  

6. El Chapo has an opt-out clause triggered after 2019. I hate those things. But if he pitches well for three years, the opt-out could actually be our salvation. If he wants to squeeze us for more money through the next decade, maybe he'll hit the open market and spare us the final two years, which everyone assumes will see us owning a Papelbon. But hey, you know what? I donna giva sheet. For Hal, this is clam dip money. Besides, if the Yankees haven't developed a raft of young pitchers by 2019, well, we're going to have far worse problems than an overpriced bum pitching the ninth.It's a good day. WE HAVE... THE MEAT! Calgon Beauty Bath, take me away!

Watch Yankee prospect Clint Frazier preparing to tear out a shoulder

who is ready for 2017? ⚾️ pic.twitter.com/61ea75a8bV

— Clint Frazier (@clintfrazier) December 7, 2016

Is this a good way to train?

"The Golden State Warriors of Baseball"

We all know what transpired yesterday: The major networks projected Boston to win the 2017 World Series. They're never wrong. It's over. Stop reading. Give up, Kirrrrrk... All we can do is bow to Zod and request a recount, beginning next spring.

Before yesterday, we planned to stomp on their Achilles heel - the starting rotation. David Price's heat would lose another 5 mph, Rick Porcello would meet Gigi Hadid, the others would morph into Matt Clement and Dice-K. Meanwhile, Luis Cessa would become Luis Tiant and Chad Green... um... Mean Chad Green. Well, aint a-gonna happen. The networks have spoken. They're never wrong.

Chris Sale will win the 2017 Nobel Prize for Literature (it doesn't always go to novelists, anymore), and Boston will clinch the AL East on June 30. (Mike Tyson's birthday.) It was Brian Cashman himself - who has an incredible ability to sound like a mere bystander, rather than as 15-year architect of the Yankee malaise - who yesterday called Boston "the Golden State Warriors of baseball."

And yet, I'm alive, ALIVE! I survived jumping off the bridge. (In Syracuse, you land in snow.) Here's why...

1. The Golden State Warriors did not win the NBA championship. Wait, was the Cashmeister being ironic?

2. Right now, the Jays, Rays and O's have suffered paper losses. With luck, the 2016 Yanks could leapfrog Toronto and Showaltertown, and chase a wild card. Houston looks like The Man in the west, and Cleveland rules the Sloppy Central. The rest are tomato cans, we're Campbell's. It's a wild card year! Get out the can-opener! Woo-woo!

3. The Redsocks just traded away the top prospect in all of baseball. In this day and age, I don't know how a team does such a thing. It could haunt them for decades. The name Moncada will no longer torture me. In fact, it could come to instantaneously rupture the gloat glands of Redsock fans. Every time they hear it, their brains will fart, and they will run wailing into the nearest open sewer. Wouldn't that be sweet?

4. Boston also traded Travis Shaw, so they are back to the Panda at 3B. He's been a complete bust, thus far. Sometimes, the juju gods simply do not want a certain guy to play in a certain city. Remember Carl Pavano? Good everywhere... but one place.

5. I'm done with wailing like a Mafia widow over our refusal to pony up for Moncada. But let's use this occasion to once again spew some righteous, acid bile toward Shallow Hal Steinbrenner. The grim-faced boy owner will bank a shit-ton of money over the duration of the next Collective Bargaining Agreement. The stockholders should build him a plaque. But unless he wins a championship, he is going to be reviled like a serial killer. If Boston wins the 2017 WS, they will open a three ring lead over us in this millennium. If they win in 2017, they will have four WS since 2001. That's the only metric by which Hal will ever be measured, and believe me, across the Yankiverse, it won't be fun to be him.

6. Let's again note how top prospects have become a standard MLB currency. Boston spent $60 million on Moncada and then traded him for two three years (corrected via comments) worth of Sale, which might bring a WS ring. That's a damn good haul. The Yankees have spent the last three seasons pointing to free agents they didn't sign and assuring everybody that we are oh-so smart for sitting tightly on our buttholes. Think about it: If we had signed Moncada... OAGAAAHHHHH, okay, that's the last time I ever do that.

7. I can't see how we could have obtained Chris Sale without crashing our computers. News accounts say the Nats offered two major prospects,and the White Sox didn't blink. My guess is we would have had to trade Gleyber Torres, Clint Frazier, Aaron Judge and more. We'd have Sale for two rotten years, with nobody to back him or score runs. We'd be the 2016 White Sox. Why bother?

8. This is blaspheme, but considering the market for ace pitchers right now, the Yankees should actually take offers for Masahiro Tanaka. He's got the trick elbow, plus an an opt-out clause next winter - when Hal will surely develop alligator arms. Of course, we can trade him at the July 31 deadline, if we're out of it. Yes, he's a great Yankee. Yes, I wish he would play his entire career with us. But due diligence requires thinking ugly thoughts.

9. The bright side: We can devote ourselves to full hate and negativity. We can become obsessed with meanness and malevolence toward Boston. We can be like those fake news sites that tied Hillary Clinton to Satanic cults. Wow, I feel better already! Sale has thrown 1,200 MLB innings. Elbows aint forever, mwahahaha. If he tweaks a gonad or turns into Price, mwahahahahaha. And we can root-root-root for Moncada. If becomes a star, Redsock fans will crawl out of their skins. It's been a while since Boston traded Jeff Bagwell. I'm rooting for Yoan... and Satan!

10. Everything now hinges on Aroldis Chapman. I really don't want to lose a first-round pick because we had to sign Kenley Jansen. What's the point of that? With Chapman - and some dumb luck - 2016 could be interesting. Without him, fukkit, the networks have already declared their winner.

Big Party tonight. My house. Be there.

The Redsocks just traded the number one prospect in all of baseball.

The name Yoan Moncada will no longer torment me for perhaps the most troubling 20 years of my life.

I know, I know... Chris Sale is a great pitcher, a stern competitor, blahblahblah... But elbows are fragile, and Redsock hubris is divine - remember under Bobby Valentine, when they were going to field the 1927 Yankees?

Boston just traded the number one prospect in all of baseball.

My house. Super Party Mega-Blast. Bring booze. Bring inflatables, bring hockey horns, bring lead-based paint chips, bring those Brannock devices that shoe stores use to measure feet. Bring chaos. The Redsocks plan to balance the universe on an elbow. Is this a dream? If I'm out on the floor, don't wake me.

Gigi Hadid has been named Model of the Year

She's the next Mike Trout... a shoe-in for the Hall.

Not sure who will be named Comeback Model of the Year. Did Christie Brinkley deliver her numbers?

Or who will take home the Vince Lombardi Modeling Trophy.

Then there is the Defensive Model of the Year. The Heisman Model Trophy. The Stanley Cup. And the WWE Modeling Championship Belt. Someday, there should be a Nobel Prize for Modeling. Why aren't we moving on this?

Didn't See That Coming ... Much

No, I'm not talking about Chris Sale being traded for Yoan Moncada...  

I'm here to report that the Yankees announced this morning at 10am that noted online publisher Derek Jeter's No. 2 jersey would be retired at a pre-game ceremony on May 14th.

“How ridiculous and how strange to be surprised at anything which happens in life” 
― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations


But I'm still a little surprised about Moncada...

Winter is coming

Maybe the Yankees should declare themselves the official "home of Pineda?"

Though they want Aroldis, the Yankees are channeling Meat Loaf

Two out of three aint bad - especially if one of the two is the best closer on the market. But yesterday, classic rockster Brian Cashman channeled that great Yankee fan, Meat Loaf, in describing his quest for the elusive Aroldis Chapman. The lyric, spoken cold and lonely in a deep dark night, goes like this:

"I'd do anything for love, but I won't do that."

Cash said the Yanks will only go so far in their quest for El Chapo, who apparently wants a six-year deal. In the NY Times, the GM said...

“The attraction to him is we know he can pitch in New York and he’s doesn’t have a draft pick attached. So then it just comes down to money and term. We’ll compete to a certain level, and then we’ll see if that’s good enough.”

... to a certain level, and then we'll see...

He took the words right out of my mouth.

Cash spoke shortly after the SF Giants - a team run by ex-Yanks (Sabean, Tidrow, Alou, Righetti, Meulens, et al) - signed ex-Yank Mark Melancon for four years, at $62 million, the most money ever given to a relief pitcher.

That kind of money sounds loopy - old Papelbon held the previous record at four years for $50 million, and look how that turned out. But if I thought El Chapo was unreachable - and I'm starting to think so - I would have swam Frisco Bay to beat Melancon's offer. What I most fear is signing Kenley Jansen for an equally unfathomable shit-ton of money and losing our first-round pick. That would suck like a bat out of hell.

If El Chapo wants a six-year deal, maybe Joggie Cano needs a new pool boy. Six years? Uh-uh. He's not Nolan Ryan. Six years means at least two lost seasons. Six years? That's like a hot girl - barely seventeen and barely dressed - suddenly saying, "STOP RIGHT THERE! I gotta know right now, before we go any further, do ya love me?" And frankly, I have another fear about this.

Sometimes, players dealt at a deadline simply don't forget the team that ditched them. Everybody talks nicey-nicey, but the moment cannot be unremembered: You bastards traded me. Remember how Boston fans boasted that they'd trade Jon Lester and then get him back the following winter? Yeah, right. Everybody said Carlos Beltran would return to the Bronx. Nope. There's always that little voice in the subconscious: You bastards dealt me. 

Chapman knows the Yankees' financial limits. I'm wondering if he really plans to come back. Of course, he won't say so in public. Having the Yankees in the bidding is the best thing that can happen for a free agent auction. But it's always there: You bastards traded me. Even if we make him a huge four-year offer, I have a feeling he'll say, "Let me sleep on it. I'll give you an answer in the morning..."

These days, the Yankiverse is split into two sharply divergent factions.

1. Those who feel 2017 is already a wipe-out, and we must point to 2018 and beyond. (I am in that group.)

2. Those who think the Yankees should go all out and try to win this season.

Frankly, I don't see either side thinking six years of El Chapo is a good idea. It's doomed to leave Hal with another big dead contract. Thus, he will zip up his fanny pack and hide under the bed. The reality is this: Hal will never sell this team. When things go south, he will simply bleed it. And we will end up praying for the end of time...

Folks, the era of old George aint coming back. It was long ago, and it was far away, and it was so much better than it is today... 

RIP, Mrs. Phelps

Margaret Whitton, the actress who played the owner of the Indians in the "Major League" movies, has passed away. This paragraph jumped out at me from her obituary today:

“Major League” played to her love of baseball. She was a Yankee fan who had season tickets to the old Yankee Stadium, her husband said, but did not renew them at the new stadium, which she found “soulless.”

Yeah, I'll really want to drive to Cooperstown to attend this

Can't wait for tickets to go on sale. Bring extra Kleenex for the tears of joy. A former used-car dealer, who orchestrated the first labor shutdown of a World Series, who then turned a blind-eye to steroids so X-box style home run records could bring back the fans, who tried to kill off Minnesota's team so it would benefit his own, who did everything he could do to crush the Yankees while favoring his good buddy Fred Wilpon on the Mets, who once tried to put movie logos for Spider-Man on the bases, who wanted to hold world World Serieses with the Japanese champion, and whose lasting decision - making the All-Star Game outcome determine the site of the Series - just got deleted in the new labor agreement. Oh, yeah, I can't wait for that ceremony. Truly one of the all-time greats. Ruth, Gehrig, Selig... that's how I see it.

I think it's time for us to realize that the "Baseball Hall of Fame" is merely a family-owned, privately run roadside attraction in Upstate New York with as much historical relevancy as the World's Largest Ball of Twine.

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

Duque will write something with depth and wisdom. I'll just note that Yankee-hater Bud Selig and his toupee have been elected to the Hall of Fame.

The toupee, I can understand.

Holliday on ice

So much for Edwin Encarnacion...

Yesterday, the Yankee stockholders opened their combination lock purses and signed 13-year veteran OF Matt Holliday to a one-and-off deal for $13 million. Thirteen years, thirteen million, replacing number thirteen... you want omens? Chew on that.

Holliday is a fading RH slugger who, like most Yankee players, peaked around 2007. Over the last two years, his numbers have noticeably, almost cruelly withered - mainly due to injuries. Still, it's not forcing us to relive 2016 (Beltran) or threaten 2020-21 (Encarnacion). As Donald Rumsfeld would say, at least we know what we don't know. But here are a few known knowns and unknowns.

1. Much of yesterday's signing will eventually be framed by who gets Encarnacion and for how long. If he signs with Boston, kiss the next two years goodbye. If he stays in the AL, whatever team gets him becomes - at the least - a major contender for the wild card. Still, I never thought we were in play on Encarnacion. We just went to the auction, sat in the back row and pretended to be lifting our card now and then. It's an improvement over last winter, when Hal hid under the bed, terrified that the free agents would come to visit.

2. We don't lose a first-round pick. This is significant. To me, it means we do not plan to sign any free agents who are lashed to qualifying offers. (Kelly Jansen and Justin Turner would have been potential targets.) I'm relieved. In this age, no middling team can afford to surrender its top pick, period. (Rich Hill and Aroldis Chapman are still out there, and neither will cost us.) Can you imagine playing a gazillion years and finally hitting the free agent market, and then having your worth devalued exponentially, because your old employer sticks you with a going-away, one-year offer? That truly sucketh.

Holliday's recent stats: age, games, HR, RBI, BA, OBP 

3. Take a gander at Holliday's recent (this decade) beautistics. Clearly, his career is in decline. Nevertheless, he's never had a bounce-back year, and guys like him often do. He's played 13-seasons in the NL and should benefit from playing DH. And for as bad as he was last yeaer, if he had played a full season, he almost surely would have led the Yankees in HRs. (BTW, that's a reminder of who absolutely crappy we were. On last year's team, a .246 batting average was Rod Carewish.)

4. He probably bats behind Gary Sanchez in the lineup, which now looks like this. (I'm still assuming Brett Gardner is traded:)

Ellsbury cf
Castro 2b
Sanchez c
Holliday dh
Bird 1b
Gregorius ss
Headley 3b
Judge rf
Hicks lf

Way I see it, either Tyler Austin or Rob Refsnyder are loose change. Also, the above team comes in third. (Everything hinges on the two Aarons.)

5. Over his career, Holliday has never been a platoon slugger. He hits against everybody. He plays every day. With RISP, he's hit .305 over 13 years. We can use that. And here's a glimpse into Joe Girardi's binder: He is an absolute crusher when ahead in the count.
1-0: .368.
2-0: .379
3-0: .227 (Uh-oh. Forget the green light, Joe.)
2-1: .426
3-1: .481

When a pitcher is ahead in the count, he's a mere .258 - nearly 50 points below his career average. And one last thing: Holliday always crushed us, hitting .356. Everything considered, at least we took him off the street. Now... what comes next?

The Essential Question: Do we want to lose our first round pick for five years of Encarnacion?

Let's be straight here: The Yankees should deathly fear that Boston signs Edwin Encarnacion.

The Redsocks are already faves in the AL East. Encarnacion would instantly, seamlessly replace Big Papi, maybe even outhit him. It's hard to imagine the 2017 Yankees toppling them and it's easy to picture Boston winning three straight divisional titles. Fuckin-A.

But is that reason enough to lash ourselves for five years to a DH who will be 40 at the end - especially after our esteemed boy owner has now gone four years blaming his mediocrity on just such deals?

If we sign Encarnacion... we lose our first pick in next June's draft. Last summer, we chose Blake Rutherford. He's already considered untouchable by our scouts. Two years ago, we took James Kaprielian. He remains our top starting hope. Three years ago - drafting in the second round, because we'd lost our pick - we selected Jacob Lindgren. This week, we waived him. If we give up our top picks, we give up all pretenses of a long-term strategy. And for the record, the one we launched last August will have lasted exactly five months. This is why we compare our owner to Dan Quayle.

If we sign Encarnacion... he'll play every day at 1B or DH for five years. That's 2,500 at bats that our youngsters will not get. Next spring, it means Greg Bird will lose playing time. He could end up platooning. Wasn't he going to get a shot as 1B of the future? Simultaneously, the probational try-out period for Aaron Judge will shrink. We hope Judge is the real deal but won't know until July. By then, if he's not hitting, would we trade him and cross our its fingers that the biggest make-or-break Yankee prospect in this millennium doesn't become a star in another city? With Encarnacion, we will seek to win now. We won't have the luxury of letting Clint Frazier, Tyler Austin, Mason Williams, etc prove themselves.

If we sign Encarnacion... we will have quickly forgotten the dark side of long term contracts, which dragged down the last three Yankee teams. Last year, despite the failings of Tex and A-Rod, they could not be pried from the center of our lineup. Then there is the albatross in CF, whom we will have for four more years and who could force the trading of Brett Gardner. It will be the same old, same old, same old Yankees.

If we sign Encarnacion... well, yeah... at least Boston won't. They would likely move on to sign Matt Holliday or someone else, for one or two years. And they would still be odds-on faves to win the 2016 AL East. We have one true hope: That 2019-2022 will bring a new era of Yankee stars. Do we really see Encarnacion, age 40, anchoring those teams?

It's a bolt... from Beltran!

Carlos signed with the Astros today. One year, sixteen large.

Mixed emotions here. He would have provided our one-year fix, but we'd be moving backwards. Houston is obviously going for broke. (Too bad, Robbie; another year, shot to hell) Steve Pearce and Matt Holiday are still out there... (in case we don't want to watch Encarnacion at age 40.)

It's an antique stat, I realize... but here some old-fashioned batting averages for last year.

Encarnacion: .263.
Pearce: .288
Holliday: .246
Beltran: .295

Let's face it: Encaracion could probably carry the team for a few weeks, but if the kids don't hit, it would be a lost cause. And if the kids do hit, either of the other two could supplement the lineup, maybe bat fifth or sixth. I'm just now sure about a five-year deal, when we're using old five year deals to plead poverty.

Why the Frowny Face, Hal?

This might be a "please bear with me" blog post.  So please bear with me.



Introduction

I saw a picture of Dan Quayle in the news today.

The picture accompanied an article about Quayle meeting with President-elect Trump.  Presumably they discussed some cabinet position.  "Secretary of Spelling the Word Potatoe", perhaps.

While reading the article and glancing at the photo, it occurred to me that Dan Quayle bears a passing resemblance to Hal Steinbrenner.


The Idea

Hmmm, I thought.  It might be fun to do a "Separated at Birth" spoof of Quayle and Hal. They're both a couple of deer-in-the-headlights rich boys who had a lot of things handed to them at birth but who have underwhelmed ever since.  And they kinda, sorta look like each other.

Maybe there's some potential for humor, I thought.


The Search

I conducted an exhaustive 20-second Google search and every picture I found of Dan Quayle showed the former Vice President smiling.  Sometimes he's smiling genuinely and sometimes he's got a cheese-y pasted-on politician smile (like the one above), but our boy Danny Quayle is always smiling, darn tootin'.

I thought to myself, "Ok, now I need to do another Google image search to find one of Hal Steinbrenner smiling.  I'll put their photos side by side, then I'll write it up."

"No problemo", I thought.  "Piece of cake."


The Discovery

I did a Google Image search on "Hal Steinbrenner" and browsed through the images of Hal, looking for a shot of him smiling.

There weren't any.  

Good Lord, the guy doesn't smile.

I looked through the 1,000 or so images returned by Google and there's only one that shows Hal smiling.  In this single solitary photo, Hal's smile is a little Nike swoosh of a sideways smirk.  I circled it in red below in case it's not obvious.

But look at all the others!  Compare the circled shot to all the others in the pictures above.  The other photos show what you ALWAYS see Hal looking like.  You can look through hundreds and hundreds of images of Hal and you won't find any of him smiling.  Not one.  None.  Nada.  Zip.

Believe me, you can click the "Show More Images" button as many times as you'd like, but you'll only find photos of Hal like the one on the right.

I mean, here the guy is, out with his wife for a nice night at the ballpark and he looks like he's been told that ISIS has formed a sleeper cell in the home team dugout and those mischievous utility infielders have peed in the hot tub in his private Jim Beam suite.  Again.

Meanwhile, his wife is smiling like she's married to the guy who owns the ballpark.

What gives?



An Analysis for Another Time

Since we are all highly qualified and expertly trained sports psychologists, we should discuss our individual theories why Hal is never seen smiling in a photo.  Is it because Sabathia told him he'd give him a monster wedgie if he dares ever to set foot in the locker room?  Is he concerned about his brother Hank's smoking?  Is Hal upset because he's realizing it was a bad idea to rent out his stadium to a soccer team because, you know, after you take their money, they're actually going to play there?  Is he sad because he's got to pay A Rod $27 million just to kiss himself in a gym mirror?  Is that grim look pasted on his face because he just finished puberty and now realizes that, in a gush of misplaced teenage enthusiasm, he tore down Baseball's One True Cathedral and put up The Mall of America?

Or is it just because his team sucks and he doesn't know what to do about it?

We could discuss this at length.  We probably should.  But I don't want to throw us off track.  I'd like to propose a challenge.


The Hal Challenge

I challenge anyone to find and post a link to a photograph of Hal Steinbrenner with his head thrown back, his mouth wide open, and enjoying a good laugh with someone.  With some friends.  With anyone.

I don't think such a photo exists.

     And I curse the life I'm living
     And I curse my poverty

Is this guy as miserable as he's making all of us?

Yankees enter Cone of Silence while their top scientists study alien CBA

As you read this, a crack team of Yankee super-analysts (pictured right) is scrutinizing MLB's new Collective Bargaining Agreement between the owners and their employees, looking for hairline cracks or possible wormholes into the alien structure's seemingly impenetrable exterior.

For the next 24 to 48 hours, we must ignore the rumors and speculation being mouthed across the Yankiverse. Most of this is produced for fake news sites by underpaid teenagers in Macedonia.
The truth is this: No one knows what lurks inside the agreement, until our greatest legal minds crack the code.

Friday, Brian Cashman warned humanity that the Yankees would enter a seeming hibernation state, while our technicians study the agreement, as he eerily emulated the actions and image of Amy Adams in the current sci-fi hit movie, Arrival. 

God speed these tireless technicians in their work. If one of them can find the Golden Loophole - a way to use Yankee wealth and market resources to win pennants, rather than simply enrich the stockbrokers - there is hope.*

*This assumes the ownership really wants to win, rather than enrich the stockbrokers.

He Thinks He's Derek Jeter

EXCLUSIVE: @POTUS is considering post-presidential digital media career. https://t.co/0YvtXq24DK pic.twitter.com/63hd7iAmJP

— Mic (@mic) December 2, 2016

Four Yankiverse-shaking events that could happen next week

The winter meetings (pictured right) start Monday. By next Friday, assuming we're not at war, I predict the Yankiverse will be buzzing over four cataclysmic events.

1. The trading of Gardy. Let's face it: Deals are the Calgon Bath Oil Beads of the meetings. Everybody covets one. And for us, either Gardy or Jacoby Ellsbury simply must go. They are identical clones, and neither is what he was three years ago. Yeah, Gardy won a Gold Glove, but that's because he's a CF playing in left, where most teams stash their defensive buffoons. I can't fathom what we'll get for Gardy, but if it's two nobodies like Chad Green and Luis Cessa, whom we snagged last winter, I'll take it. Still, pardon my tears next summer when Gardy first appears in an enemy jersey. He is my favorite Yankee, and it hurts to think he will soon be gone.

(By the way, my negative tone is to reflect the depth of the black hole into which the Yankees have flown over the last four years. Make no mistake: If our big prospects fail, or - worse - we don't show the patience to let them evolve as players, this could be the worst period in Yankee history. Think about that, next time some 19-year-old expert extols the brilliance of our ownership: The. Worst. Period. In. Yankee. History.)  

2. The big losses from the Rule 5 draft. I think the super-serious Yankee blogs are sugarcoating this: We are about to get plundered. We will surely lose Jake Cave, a promising OF with Scranton. We'll lose a good pitching prospect. We could lose some of the lesser players we received in last July's rebuild. It's possible some team could reach down and grab Luis Torrens, a 20-year-old catcher with enormous potential; two years ago, before he got hurt, he was one of our biggest hopes. We should brace ourselves for a brutal draft day. Last year, two of the first three picks came from our system. This year, I suspect it will be worse.

3. A free agent signing, maybe two. Not sure how quickly things will brew. But by now, Aroldis Chapman, Rich Hill and Carlos Beltran must have a good sense of their future homes. The Yanks have "made inquiries" on all three. I don't know what the hell that means. It's been two years since we bid on a big ticket bucket, and the crosstown Mets just shelled out Fred Wilpon's left testicle for Humanis Centepedes. By next week, we should know where Fallow Hal is going.

4. The out-of-nowhere, unpredictable, nothing-for-nothing Cashman deal. Whether it's trading Tyler Clippard for Jessica Alba - (wait, make that Jonathan Albaladejo) - or dealing Vincente Campos for Tyler Clippard, the Yankee GM always cuts a nobody-for-nothing transaction, just for the Calgon Bath Oil Beads instant pleasure of proving he's alive. Sometimes, they work. Sometimes, they don't. I'm thinking Rob Refsnyder. You heard it here first. 

Sweepstakes?

When good headlines turn bad...

Where have you gone, Mephistopheles? The Yankees turn their lonely eyes to you.

Dear Satan... aka Scratch, Bub, Luce...

As you know, last night, baseball's stately plantation owners and prideful migrants achieved labor harmony. They have tweaked the current system and greased the wheels of prosperity through 2021.

Quick question: Where the hell are you?

Actually, that's a trick question. We know where you are: Somewhere in the fine print, lurking in the boilerplate, hidden in a phrase or dangling in a participle... waiting to someday emerge like Melania Trump's immigration papers.

At least, that's what I hope.

From first impressions, the new baseball Collective Bargaining Agreement (CBA) keeps the de-facto payroll caps that crushed the Yankees in the early 2010s and turned the team into a big city version of the Milwaukee Brewers.

Today, the questions are the ones always asked after such a deal is made:

Is there a loophole, and can the Yankees exploit it? Make no mistake: That is Brian Cashman's job. And by the way, he won't hold a news conference and announce it. Don't expect quick analyses. That's how loopholes - and devils - work their magic.

The Yankees built their 1996-2003 dynasty, in large part, on a newly found revenue stream called the YES Network. MLB reacted by imposing huge luxury taxes on the big-spending teams (the Yankees), while other franchises built their own TV networks. Ever since, the Yankees have been a nostalgia act, presenting aging stars in season-long Old-Timers Day pageants, as they chased Wild Cards.

Obviously, sitting here this morning, I can't identify a loophole. The luxury tax cap will rise by a few million each year, but if Hal "Food Stamps" Steinbrenner stays above it for too long, his tax rate will skyrocket. The Yankees must still get below the threshold every few years - while balancing the long-term deals that top stars demand. It's a Catch-22 that the Yankees have yet to solve.

Last year, after four seasons of mediocrity, Hal finally threw in the towel, traded veterans for prospects and vowed to rebuild - just like Kansas City does. Now, we hope a wave of young stars will lift this team. But if it does happen, will the Yankees be able to keep them, when they demand to be paid like stars?

Don't get me wrong, Luce. This agreement is probably fair to all owners. Trouble is, most teams seek pennants. A few annually chase world championships. The Yankee tradition is to think of dynasties. That's where you come in.

Somewhere in the details, we need a devil.