Skinny Stanton, the Snell staredown, and a new flamethrower light up Camp Hellbent

Like Frampton long ago, Tampa has come alive. Every morning, it's like Dorothy stepping into Oz. Every returning vet, every emerging rook, every tool in the box, every dingleberry in the shower - it's cause for unbridled hope. 

Such is the beauty, the wonderment, of pre-spring. 

Across Camp Hellbent, sunblock-smeared Gammonites stand in awe of the rock-ribbed backstories that now gush from every tap. If Ponce de Leon could see this, he could die in peace, having found the Fountain. Yesterday, Juan Soto gave his first press conference. (That's what they do; like Ari Fleischer, they call press conferences.) He said nothing, but nobody cared. The stars walk a mowed red carpet, posing in their midnight blues and projecting one grand assurance.

Everything will be okay. 

Everyone will be a star. 

This year will be different: Everything will come together.

So, enjoy the joy. Meanwhile, here are the trope storylines...

1. The dieters. Seen the shots of Giancarlo Stanton? He's dropped a stone, maybe more. (O, o, o, Ozempic?) Weight loss - the fading superstar who quit the kugel this Christmas - is one of the great traditions of spring. Long ago, we saw it with CC Sabathia. Later, Gary Sanchez. It's the first sign that a slugger or ace recognizes an existential threat to his career, that even though the spring days are getting longer, his time in The Show is growing shorter. 

This week, both Giancarlo and Carlos Rodon reported looking as toned as Miley Cyrus. Let's hope it works. For both stars, it's sorta now or never. If Rodon doesn't bounce back from 2023, he probably never will. And if Giancarlo flounders, the Yankees will disappear him. He's faltered now for two years. As Auric Goldfinger said, "Once is happenstance, twice coincidence, and three times is enemy action." The Yankees cannot win with a DH who hits .190. 

2. The last hope. Blake Snell and Jordan Montgomery remain holdouts, and - frankly - WTF? (Especially Montgomery, a perfect fit in Texas. What is wrong with the Rangers?) 

Either would greatly elevate the Yankees' chances in 2024. In fact, it's so painfully obvious, so abundantly clear, considering the thin rotation, which is likely to crack before opening day. Apparently, runner-ups and wild cards will be Hal Steinbrenner's legacy, and he's okay with that. 

Every day, sportswriters squeeze out copy suggesting the Yankees are still in on Snell, even though Hal insists they are done. It's like kids on Christmas morning, holding out for the pony. At this point, I hesitate to even mention the rumor. It will just hurt more when they sign with the Jays or the Mets. 

3. The fireballer. In this case, it's Nick Burdi, a 31-year-old, RH, non-roster invitee who has been kicking around the majors since 2018, never throwing more than 10 innings in a season. He's 6'3," 225, so the worms will know he's out there. He's impressed the Yankees, and good for him.

I Googled the guy. This I know: The issue has never been his ability to throw hard. It's all about the ligaments, the things that go pop in the night. If his arm holds together, Nick Burdi can help this team. Remember that name. And light a candle for his gaskets. 

Everything is beautiful. Spring is coming, everybody. Peel me a grape.

The most intriguing Yankee in camp might also be the most tradeable.

Whenever I ponder the endless possibilities of the 2024 Yankees - (which is every second of every minute of every hour of every day) - I hit a reboot snag on the cherubic image of Mr. Alexander Brady Verdugo. 

For starters, his mere presence in Tampa makes little sense.  The Yankees traded three minor league pitchers for him, and it's not even certain he has a position to play. If Trent Grissom plays CF - the preferred defensive scenario - then Juan Soto moves to LF and Verdugo mines splinters. That's a combustible situation, because Verdugo is not above complaining about management. 

The trade for Verdugo came days before the bigger move, which acquired Soto for a tranche of young arms. At the time, it seemed a stopgap, in case the Soto deal collapsed. Ever since, the Hellbent Yankees have been raking the methane fields, scrounging for pitchers. You can almost imagine them trading Verdugo - a fun scenario, now that he shaved his beard - to alleviate the dearth of pitching. But I doubt Brian Cashman wants to admit he made a mistake, so Verdugo is here to stay, at least until August.

But here's the crazy part: 

I can't dispel the notion that Verdugo is the most intriguing player in Tampa. Here's why:

1. He'll turn 28 in May. Agewise, he's entering his prime.

2. This is his contract year. Next winter, he's a free agent. 

3. He's a grudgy type - outspoken, edgy, a partier - who never forgets an insult and will likely hate Boston forever. 

4. He bats LH. This winter, Cashman finally realized the insanity of a RH-hitting lineup in Yankee Stadium.

5. He seemed to always hurt us. I hated to see him in clutch situations.  

6. Maybe - just maybe - this could be his career year. 

Let's explore that hallucination. Verdugo is a career .281 hitter who slid last season (amid a teamwide Redsock collapse) - to .264. BTW, that would still have placed him third on the Yankees, who were certifiably pathetic. (Gleyber led the team with .273.) He hit 13 HRs, and that's the knock: Little power. But he'll be hitting in Yankee Stadium, not Fenway. He'll have the Porch instead of the Monster. 

Let's imagine that all the above reasons converge to bring about Verdugo's career year. Here's what his numbers could look like: 

15-20 HRs, (previous best: 13.)
75-89 RBIs. (previous, 74.)
Batting average .310-.315. (previous, .308.)
10 stolen bases (previous, 7.)
An On Base Percentage of .380 (.367.)  

Those would be all-star numbers. Verdugo would likely end up hitting leadoff. Yes, imagining career years is just a parlor game. He could shit the bed. But if you're pondering the Yankee lineup, searching for hope, you have Judge and Soto... and then what? A bunch of maybes. Wanna imagine DJ LeMahieu (at 35) having his best season? Or Anthony Rizzo, 34? Good luck with that.

Verdugo is approaching the greatest chance of his life: He could play LF in Yankee Stadium, with a short porch, with protection in the lineup and a pile of games against the franchise that traded him. Come October, a contract of gold could be awaiting him. Is he smart? Does he recognize the opportunity? I guess that's what we'll find out.

Top Ten Meaningless Storylines of the Week in the Yankiverse

They're all just dangling, shiny objects, but here goes anyway...

1. Carlos Rodon has lost weight.  

2. Aaron Judge wants to bat third. 

3. Potty-mouth Aaron Boone says team is "hellbent" to win. 

4. Nestor Cortes' injury, which nobody told us about, won't be as bad as we didn't fear. 

5. Cashman is relentlessly churning waiver fodder - McKinley Moore, Jordan Groshans - to improve Scranton roster.

6. When anyone mentions Blake Snell, the Yankees yell that they're done spending. 

7. Jose Trevino's strained calf again proves Yanks can get injured anywhere, at any time, doing anything. 

8. Clean-shaven Alex Verdugo looks like adorable kewpie. 

9. The Yankees won't offer contract extension to Gleyber, won't get a chance to do one with Soto.

10. As Yanks go for broke in '24, Mets seem to be building for long term.

Sit down for this. Brace yourself. It's time to spew blaspheme about Brian Cashman

Before continuing, a warning: The post you're about to see contains words and images that some readers may find upsetting...

I suggest you take a seat. Do you use blood pressure medication? Take it. Maybe a shot of Buffalo Trace?  Breathe. Close your eyes and go to a happy place: You're running barefoot through a field of erect nipples. Okay, are you ready? Here goes...

Brian Cashman is right.

There, I said it. The world didn't explode. The floor didn't cave in. No Satanic trumpets blared o'er the hills. Don't worry: I won't say it again. You don't go taunting the Beastmaster. But Brian Cashman - yes, our Brian Cashman - is absolutely right in refusing to trade Spencer Jones and/or Jasson Dominquez for the missing link to 2024, a starting pitcher. Make no mistake: He is doing the right thing for the Yankees, even if it is not the best move for his job security.

How can I speak such blaspheme? Easy. It's true. 

For better or worse, the 2024 the Hellbent Yankees have built an all-or-nothing roster, balanced on key players entering their "walk" years. This includes Juan Soto, Alex Verdugo and Gleyber Torres, all central to the batting order. 

The Yankees are all-in for the coming season, but it might not be enough. They appear to be at least one starter short, and Hal Steinbrenner is refusing to spend more. That leaves Cashman with one recourse: Trade a top prospect for - say - Dylan Cease of the White Sox. Such a deal would instantly make the Yankees favorites in the AL East according to the lapdog media - (with a few exceptions: talking to you Mike Axisa and Joel Sherman) - and a YES team of analysts who should know better.  

Thus far, Cashman is holding the line, refusing a trade. He could push the button, invoke the memory of Clint Frazier, and secure a starting pitcher. He is holding back at his own peril. 

This is his Crunch Year, or as Mel Brooks would put it, Springtime for Cashman in Germany. If the Yankees flop, I gotta believe Cash disappears. Those barnyard photographs of Hal that he keeps in his safe? They have lost their punch due to AI deep fakes. If the Yankees shit the bed in 2024, mark these words: Cashman will be operating a McDonald franchise in 2025. He cannot afford to miss the playoffs two years in a row. 

So, he can trade the remaining Yankee seed corn, further depleting a farm system that has already been seriously drained. In a way, he has nothing to lose. Those prospects won't reach stardom for years, and he might not last that long. 

We rank on Cashman all the time. He's our go-to whipping mule. Now, let's give the guy some credit: He's refusing to push the button on a bad, long term deal. 

Okay, open your eyes. You're no longer in that meadow of blossoming areola. You're back in Jersey City, or Lackawanna, or Ashtabula, and the engine light is still regularly flashing on your dashboard. Nothing has changed. But dammit, the world has been transformed. A miracle has happened. Cashman is right. 

Hellbent Yanks have many worries, but none about Giancarlo

The older you get, the more you view relatively short timespans - say, four years from now - as Eternity. 

I mean, who bothers to ponder 2028? By then, the caps will have melted, the asteroid will have hit, the super-volcano, the space nukes, the Taylor-Travis breakup - WWIII, the aliens, AI, "everything bagels" - something will get us. Four years from now? If we're lucky, we'll be sitting in a rehab cafeteria, eating creamed corn, watching Gomer Pyle. 

Which - "Surprise, surprise, surprise..." brings us to Giancarlo Stanton. 

At age 34, Giancarlo has finally reached The Precipice. 

If he doesn't hit in 2024 - if he begets another .190, hobbling, injury-pocked year - he will officially become a pariah - a Bonilla, an Ellsbury, a Sandoval - a podcast punchline to be remembered for his franchise-killing contract, and the premier reason why Hal Steinbrenner will never again splurge for talent during his sorry-ass time as owner of the NY Hellbent Yankees.

Listen: We can list the keys to 2024, but Stanton aint one. 

If he doesn't hit, so be it! If he's wallowing below the Mendoza Line on June 1, the Hellbents simply must ditch him - in any way possible. DFA. Salary dump. Ozempic overdose. Doesn't matter. What they cannot do is waste another season waiting for a slugger who has lost his ability to turn on a fastball. It happened to Ryan Howard. It happened to Mo Vaughn. It happens all the time. What you don't want is to prolong the experience, to yank off the Band-Aid slowly. 

If Stanton doesn't hit, no problem! Just free him. "Liberty-Biberty!" Absorb the payroll hit. It's called "the price of doing business."

The Yankees will pay Stanton $106 million through 2028. That includes a $10 million buyout and $20 million, which will be paid by the Marlins - (thank you, Jete) -  who in 2017 were so desperate to disappear their then-MVP that they opted to pay partially for his final two seasons, which they knew would be abysmal. 

Look, okay... yes, there is a chance Stanton will mount a comeback. This is America; anything can happen! Three years ago, he hit .273 with 35 HRs. He claims to be working harder than ever, with a new approach to hitting. (Heard that one before.) If so, good for him! 

But the worst thing the 2024 Yankees could do is face another full season of Stanton hitting .200, batting 4th or 5th, and clogging the DH hole so other hitters cannot rest. 

We finished fourth last year.

We don't need to worry about Stanton. 

Stanton needs to worry about Stanton.  

Not a pitch has been thrown, but Yankee injuries have begun

Yesterday, pitchers and catchers cameth unto Tampa - aka: The Big Guava - and the Yankees immediately lost one of each.

1. Scott Effross - a bullpen lug nut penciled in to chug 50 to 70 innings in 2024 - was revealed to have undergone back surgery in December. This follows his Tommy John cutup in 2022, weeks after Cooperstown Cashman obtained him in a trade for Hayden Wesneski, (currently competing for the Cubs rotation.) Effross could be back in June. Or never. He's 30. Just sayin.'  

2. Then there is Jose Trevino - the all-star reserve catcher and feelgood story of '22 - who somehow, (taking out the garbage?), tweaked a calf last month and will miss the opening games of spring training. In a normal, meaningless February, this would barely be a blip upon the Death Barge firmament of meaninglessness. But recent springs have shown us something about setbacks: They breed like feral cats. So, I suppose we should wait and see. 

In theory, we can spin Trevino's olden calf as a plus: It will push the Yankees to use their young catchers, most notably Austin Wells, with the A-team rotation. Obviously, we at IIHIIFIIc are "glass half full" creatures of positivity. Trouble is, it's Day One of the First Days, and already the calves are creaking. 

For months, we begged Prince Hal to finish winter with a flourish, to sign Blake Snell or Jordan Montgomery and enter 2024 as kings of the AL East. Well, those pleas went nowhere.  

Instead of making a sizeable splash, the Yankees yesterday signed 32-year-old Lou Trivino - who came in the disastrous 2022 Frankie Montas deal - to (sorta, anyway) replace Effross.

They also traded a 19-year-old lottery ticket pitching prospect to Milwaukee for 27-year-old lefty Clayton Andrews. He'd been DFAed by the Brewers, so it was one of those "gun-to-the-head" trades that Cashman loves. 

Last year, his third season at Triple A, Andrews pitched to a 2.52 ERA. He was called up to Milwaukee for an audition, and he got absolutely bombed - 3 innings, 10 earned runs. So it goes. And now... space nukes? Call 007! Calgon Bath Oil Beads, take me away! 

They shaved Verdugo, and he looks 12 years old

 

Life is Good

Winter’s been raw as a campout in Banff,
Your new basement walls are moldy and damp,
Your curtains caught fire from a knocked-over lamp —
.      Relax!

.      Pitchers and catchers are reporting to camp.

Your check-writing hand’s developed a cramp,
Your bills are all due and you ain’t got a stamp,
Creditors cling to your neck like a clamp —
.      Smile!

.      Pitchers and catchers are reporting to camp.

Your yard is now split by a new freeway ramp,
Your son is engaged to a gold-digging tramp,
Your “guitar hero” neighbor’s just bought a new amp —
.      Life is good!

.      Pitchers and catchers are reporting to camp.

Yankees claim a guy waived by Miami; 10 fun facts about 3B Jordan Groshans

 

1. It's pronounced GROW-shins.

2. At 6'3", he'll at least look good coming off the bus.

3. He has options to spare, so he'll probably play the year in Scranton.

4. Shades of Red Thunder, another former first-round pick.

5. At one point he was ranked #3 prospect in the Blue Jays farm system.

6. Three times, he made Baseball America's Top 100 rankings. (Last was early 2021 - he was #34.)

7. Last year in Triple A, he flopped, hitting .243 with only six HRs over 528 plate appearances.

8. But he's only 24.

9. He is a career .271 hitter in the minors, though no power. 

10. In his pro career, he's been intentionally walked once.

Bonus: He has played 3B, 1B, SS, 2B and RF. 

Double Bonus: To obtain Groshans, the Yankees waived LH reliever Matt Krook, a prospect who is 29. And so it goes.

You say PECOTA, I say Player Empirical Comparison and Optimization Test Algorithm

So Baseball Prospectus has this thing they do (not "That Thing You Do!") that you're probably familiar with. Here's their explanation:

PECOTA is BP's proprietary system that projects player performance based on comparison with historical player-seasons. There are three elements to PECOTA:

1) Major-league equivalencies, to allow us to use minor-league stats to project how a player will perform in the majors;

2) Baseline forecasts, which use weighted averages and regression to the mean to produce an estimate of a player's true talent level;

3) A career-path adjustment, which incorporates information about how comparable players' stats changed over time.

They also use PECOTA (not to be confused with Ricotta) for entire teams in order to "predict" (not actually a prediction, they point out) the final season standings. From what I could understand, this is based on players performing according to their "normal" (not necessarily normal) performance, which for the Yankees is kind of dumb since half the veterans will miss up to 100 games or more due to breaking down.

However, this is what their UNIVAC has spit out for the 2024 season.

Is that readable? Readable-ish? Hope so. We're projected as division winners, with Baltimore somehow projected to be fourth. I know, bizarre in both cases, but Boston is in last place, so there might be some truth to this divisional possibility (not really a possibility, imo).

At any rate, if everyone on our team plays up to their "normal" level, we win in a cakewalk, way, way, way ahead in the percent chance of winning the East (but not actually making it to the Series, with abysmal odds).

By the way, this is a cakewalk. I doubt anyone on the Yankees will do this as they come down the stretch, but I dunno. Maybe Boone. Maybe Hal, wearing his kinky boots.

Oh, and by the way again, PECOTA seems really full of shit, but that's algorithms for ya. And AI, which runs on algos and data mining and other unperfected tech. Just never know what kind of crap it'll churn out. Though I suppose we'll be seeing a lot of it in an election year.

Anyway, enjoy our 94.5 simulated wins! Whoo.

The 2024 Yankee season balances on several players, but hinges entirely on only one

One of the recent knocks on NFL TV barker Tony Romo was his tendency to proclaim that the next play could mean the game! - over and over - like a toddler suddenly discovering his dick. 

But here's the thing: He was always right. The next play could bring a fumble or six-pick interception. Every single play, every single moment on a field - or in life -can be the instant that changes everything. (You go, Marianne Williamson!)

Baseball bloggers face a similar dilemma when attempting to pinpoint the Yankee who will matter the most this season. Any idiot knows that 2024 will balance on Aaron Judge and Gerrit Cole. We can shinny down the roster and imagine anybody becoming a key lug nut. What if Luke Weaver develops a smooshball and wins 20 games? Won't he be the most important Yankee? Fuck, yeah! We'll be the Dream Weaver. We'll do the Weave Wave! Leave it to Weaver! 

But from where we stand now - hours before the Valentines Day cascade of chocolates and Viagra - one Yankee stands out, in part because of 2023's unfinished business. 

We still don't know WTF to expect from Anthony Volpe. 

His range of 2024 outcomes now stretch from home town superstardom to a complete flop. He won't be Derek Jeter, but he could be a foundational block on which the Yankees build their team. He won't be Zolio Almonte, but he could be  a disappointment to be eventually traded for a meatball sub. Wither goest Clint Frazier! 

Last year, Volpe - age 22 - hit .209 with 21 HR and 60 RBIs. He stole 24 bases, not bad for a guy with a horrible OBP of .283. He fanned 167 times, 10th in the AL. He won the AL Gold Glove, though let's just say his status as the premier fielding SS remains questionable. He hit .198 against righties, .248 against lefties. For a Jersey boy, he hit better on the road (.229) than at home. Twice, in June and August, he seemed to poised to get hot, but he never did. Over the second half of the season, he hit .200. Ugh. 

There is talk about changing his launch angle  - God, I hate that phrase - and exit velos, and bunting, blah blah blah, but it might as well be Tony Romo talking about UFOs. If we know anything about baseball, it's that the season is long enough for spring training resolutions to end up in the dumpster. 

But here's the thing: 

If Volpe becomes half the player the Yankees once projected him to be, 2024 could turn on a dime. So...

IF VOLPE HITS: Let's say he bats .265 with 25 HRs, his stolen bases should rise to 40. He could move to the leadoff spot or continue to bat ninth, creating a circular order. He could get on base for DJ LeMahieu or Alex Verdugo, psyching out pitchers, elevating each at-bat. There is rabid speculation as to how Juan Soto could boost the offense. Volpe could have the same cascading impact. If he hits like he did in the minors, you can even imagine the Yankee challenging Baltimore (which remains the team to beat.)

IF VOLPE DOESN'T HIT: Shoot me. If he fails again - maybe .200 with fewer HRs - well, the Yankees will have watched their most vaunted prospect in years turn into an afterthought. We'll move on to Oswald Peraza. Volpe will still only be 23 - plenty of time to blossom - but to Yank fans, he'll be 35. Once again, the Yankees will have a black hole at the bottom of their batting order. That will put more pressure on the sluggers, who will see fewer hittable pitches. It will be like an NFL team with a decimated offensive line: One domino topples another, and another... 

So, on this one, I'm Tony Fucking Romo. When I look at 2024, everything turns on Volpe. A year into his MLB career, we still donno what he's got. Soon, though, that will change. Cross your fingers. 

The myth of Goliath: With another Super Bowl title, KC moves ahead of NYC in sports championships, this millennium

Kansas City pro world championships, this millennium: 8

Royals (baseball) 2015
Chiefs (football) 2019
Chiefs (football) 2022
Chiefs (football) 2023
Sporting (soccer) 2000
Sporting (soccer) 2013
FC (women Soccer) 2014
FC (women's Soccer) 2015

New York City pro world championships, this millennium: 7 

Yankees (baseball) 2000
Yankees (baseball) 2009
Giants (football) 2007
Giants (football) 2011
FC (soccer) 2021
Gotham (women's soccer) 2009 
Gotham (women's soccer) 2023

Once again, the argument proves false that small cities cannot beat the megalopolis.

For all their grandeur and (supposed) financial advantage, NYC sports remain a colossal underachiever. The Mets, Jets, Knicks and Rangers lead the pack in failure. And no NYC-based school dominates in major college sports. 

Why such a lack of success? Stodgy, incompetent ownerships. A pressurized media. Massive distractions. Traffic congestion. Rats. Rude cab drivers. Access to drugs, supermodels, bootlickers and STDs. Too much pizza. 

Outlook for 2024: The Chiefs might win again. No rings in store for NYC. 

Tonight, the secret CIA Super Bowl PSYOP campaign will end. Here's what will happen.

At considerable expense and personal danger, this website has obtained exclusive, top-secret documents outlining the CIA's covert operation, a PSYOP campaign known to top governmental officials as the "Tray-Lor Super Death."

I don't want to overwhelm you with insider jargon that you won't understand, but let's just say this op began last September as a classic honeypot. It involves a sexy, surgically enhanced money badger and a dimwitted football jock, a useful idiot, plus the plausible deniability firewalls that accompany any decent intelligence sting. Wink, wink. Tsk, tsk. If I say anything more, someone will die.

The operation, which ends tonight, has already succeeded beyond the wildest dreams of its architects. By October, the targeted New York Football Giants were surgically neutered, and the feared emergence of rising superstar Tommy DeVito was delayed for at least another year. By choosing to live at home, and having  his mother cook and clean for him, DeVito posed a generational threat to the U.S. economy. The Tray-Lor" op ensured the Giants would flop, reminding millennials to move their asses, and to let the nation heal.

The 2024 Presidential race will hinge on tonight's final strategy. 

Here's what will happen:

Shortly after the opening kickoff, a secret military aircraft carrying Super Agent T-Swift will land in the desert, outside Las Vegas. She will arrive late in the second quarter, escorted by a huge contingent of supermodels and cabana boys, with the KC Chiefs down by 14 points.

Her inspirational presence in the KC skybox will rally the Chiefs. They will cut the SF lead to only six points, with only seconds left to play. Then, a "hail Mary" bomb from Agent KC-15 will be caught by Agent KC-87, who will then bob and weave his way through the (drugged and manipulated) SF defense and score the winning touchdown. 

In the ensuing jubilation, Agent T-Swift will lean too far over the skybox wall, lose her grip and tumble 100 feet to her death. 

She will, of course, be a animated robot mannequin, with the real super agent hidden safely from view. 

Hearing the sudden silence of the crowd, and sensing something has gone dreadfully wrong, Agent KC-87 will climb his way to the accident scene, where the corpse is still robotically writhing. He will clutch the mannequin to his CIA-enhanced breasts and unveil the engagement ring he had carried throughout the entire contest, (which had proven useful in gouging the eyes of defenders.) 

Into network cameras already in place, Agent KC-87 will shout to the heavens, and the nation at large: "Cannot we as a country dismiss our petty differences and come together as one? This woman may be dead, but in the name of unity, I still want to marry her!" 

In the TV broadcast booth, Special Agent Romo will say, "Wait? They're not married? I thought they were married." 

Somewhere, at home in Jersey, DeVito will be defeated and sent to his room. The nation will mourn, as one. 

A week before camps open, why are so many top free agents out there? And why is the AL East so quiet?

Heading into Supe Sunday - as we wonder if Tortured Poet Tay can get from Tokyo to the big game -  let us ponder a diversion: 

The list of currently unsigned free MLB agents:

Cody Bellinger
Matt Chapman
Blake Snell
Jordan Montgomery
Jorge Soler
J.D. Martinez
Tim Anderson
Gio Urshela 
Michael Taylor
Tommy Pham
Garret Cooper 

Hmm. Not bad. Pick a lineup from the above, and you might win the AL Central. 

It raises a couple questions: 

On Supe Bowl Eve, why is everything so quiet, so still? WTF?

Honestly? Dunno. But somethin aint right. It's as if the larded lords of MLB have silently vowed to sit on their pimpled rumps and outwait their one true rival - the players union, which they must deal with to run their money factory.

Right now, if you discard price tags, four free agents could clearly help the Yankees. 

Jordan Montgomery and Blake Snell would bolster a thin rotation. Matt Chapman and Gio Urshela would take over 3B and free the Yanks to trade for pitching.

In an alt-Yankiverse, you might add Garret Cooper - (17 HRs and .271 last year) - to backup Anthony Rizzo, in case his swirlies return. Nobody else, unless you planned an overhaul.   

With sights set on a wild card, and a roster full of "maybe's," the Yankees appear to be stone cold done. But why has Toronto been so docile? The Jays have the money; they own Canada. Two months ago, they shook the world for one brief night in their (albeit-failed) pursuit of Shohei Ohtani. Since then, radio silence. Same with the Mets and, to a lesser degree, Boston. They went to the ledge on Yoshi Yamamoto. Ever since, they've been lurking, lying in wait, quiet... too quiet.

Yesterday, The Athletic graded each MLB team for its offseason moves. The Jays, Redsocks and Rays received Ds. (Baltimore, teacher's pet, got an A; the Yankees got a B.)

In a normal year, Supe Sunday weekend would be the perfect time for such a parlor game. But this aint normal. Something's going on. A dam is about to break. Once upon a time, they called it "collusion." Now, it's "brinksmanship." It's the way everybody conducts business. So be it, I guess. But as a Yankee fan, it sure  would be nice if Hal showed the spine to break with his Billionaire Gentleman's Club.

We Need to Talk About Trevor.

 

During one of the worst patches of the tumultuous 1977 season, the late, great Gabe Paul told the press:

"We judge players by what they do on the field. If we wanted all nice boys, we'd go to the church and collect them."

At the time, Paul had recently suffered a stroke, and the not-so-nice boys in the Yankees' clubhouse amused themselves by imitating his altered speech.

But I digress.

Generally, I agree with Gabe Paul. But I think perhaps Trevor Bauer stretches that maxim beyond the breaking point.

Let's start with how Mr. Bauer does on the field. The results are more mixed than you might think. 

Yes, Trevor won a Cy Young in the plague-shortened 2020 season, going 5-4 with a 1.73 ERA, in 11 starts for Cincinnati. The next season, before his (unfair) suspension, he went 8-5 for the Dodgers, in 17 starts. In 2018, he also had an excellent year for the Indians in 2018, going 12-6, 2.21. 

And...that's sort of it. In his other 7, major-league seasons, Bauer never posted an ERA under 4.18. He's a decent pitcher, but an uneven one, and always has been. Also, he's 33 and has not pitched in the majors since that 2021 season. 

Now, about the other stuff...

The guy is a kochleffl, a pot stirrer. Sometimes that's a good thing on a team—someone who will shake things up, get other guys to play harder. 

Sometimes, as we have seen oh so often in New York, on oh so many times, that's just a big distraction—someone who is more interested in himself than anything else. 

From what I can see, Trevor Bauer is the second kind, a guy who can never resist getting into it with the press, with fans, and with any other passing object of his ire.

I agree with JM that he hardly got due process from MLB or the Pasadena PD over his alleged assault on Lindsey Hill back in 2021. But then, according to Wikipedia—I am relying on Wiki here, as following loutish ballplayers is one of the things I like least about sports today—there was another woman who got a temporary protection order against him in 2020, and a third woman who accused him of sexual assault in 2022 and 2023.

Hey, he denies it all. But as I said about Al Franken at the time, when there's another woman, and another woman...

Rufus T. Firefly asks what about the Yanks signing Aroldis Chapman. Well, exactly Rufus. As Sarah Palin might have asked, how'd that work out for us? 

The Yanks never should've traded for a guy who shot at his wife, and they especially should never have signed him again.

As for Bauer, well, it just goes on and on.

NBC sports reporter Bill Baer calls Trevor "extremely online." That seems to be an understatement. 

Here were some of the things upon which the pitcher expressed himself:

"He identifies as a free market capitalist and a social liberal. Although he did not vote in the 2016 United States presidential election, Bauer has expressed his personal support of Donald Trump, whom he believed 'would shake up the system.'...In February 2017, Bauer accused Apple and Twitter of purporting a liberal media bias, after which he proceeded to express a variety of political beliefs, including climate change denial, skepticism that [President] Obama was born in the United States, and a defense of the Indians' mascot, Chief Wahoo. In 2018, Bauer accused the Indians of restricting his Twitter access in order to censor his political commentary..."

Blah, blah, blah. Hey, he's a free citizen, and is allowed to express himself on anything he wants. But think this is not going to prove a distraction in the very fraught election season we are moving into?

And here's another quote from Wiki:

"In January 2019, Bauer responded to a female college student who referred to him as her "least favorite person in all of sports" by tweeting at her over the course of 12 hours and encouraging his followers to partake as well."

So, "Don't you dare censor me. But if you criticize me in turn, I'm calling in the mob!" Sounds sort of like...what was that concept again? Oh, yeah. Hypocrisy.

And then there's this:

"After receiving a higher salary than expected during an arbitration hearing in 2018, Bauer launched a charity campaign called "69 Days of Giving", where he promised to donate an exact amount of US$420.69 to 68 charities selected by his fans. The final charity, decided by Bauer, would receive a donation of US$69,420.69...Bauer chose his donation amounts based on the connotations around the numbers 420, typically associated with cannabis culture, and 69, an oral sex position. He believed that employing a campaign around sex and drug references would help market the charitable contributions."

Oh, the little scamp! Yeah, Mom and Dad are gonna love this guy. 

And then there are the lawsuits. Against Deadspin and The Athletic, and an individual reporter, and an editor. All dismissed or dropped, incidentally. Makes you wonder how much time he spends consulting with lawyers, though...

Look, I thoroughly believe this horse's ass should be allowed to hold whatever beliefs he wants, and to spew them all over the internet, if he so chooses, and to launch frivolous lawsuits against all the world. It's the American way.

But I don't recall Reggie and Billy and Thurman, at their most obnoxious, ever boring us with their views on sex and drugs and politics, or suing the press. I don't remember A-Rod, at his most insufferable, siccing an online mob on a woman college student who dared to criticize him. 

We already have two starting oafs who have a lot of trouble behaving in public. Now we want a third? No, thanks.

The Athletic grades the Yankee winter as a "B"

The winter grades have been posted outside Principal Skinner's office. The Yankees got a B. 

As always, they did well in the Verbal section, but messed up in the Math. 

The neat and tidy grades come courtesy of The Athletic, which seems to have evolved into The Sporting News of our era. As the tabloids crumble behind pop-ups and firewalls, we must ask: "Where have you gone, Peter Gammon, our nation turns its lonely eyes to you." Soon, every game will require a payment of some sort. (Wait, are there any free games, anywhere?)

In case you're wondering, within the AL East, Baltimore received an "A," (which is trouble. ) The  Redsocks, Rays and Blue Jays received "D"s, not for making bad deals, but apparently for absence. Of course, some major free agents - Blake Snell and Jordan Montgomery - remain unsigned. Any of the three teams could rise dramatically by landing a big fish. 

Why did the Yankees score a B? The site names Juan Soto, who fills three major needs - corner OF, LH bat, and youth. It questions the trade for Alex Verdugo. (Looking back, it came days before  the Soto deal. I suspect the Yankees made it to cover their buts, if the Soto trade went south.)

Oh, well, the days are getting longer. By this time next week...

Too Much Pitching?

 

Yeah, remember that year, ladies and germs?

The Yankees' starters for 2003. Moving clockwise, from upper right: 

—Jose Contreras, "the Bronze Giant."

—Andy Pettitte.

—Mike Mussina.

—Roger Clemens.

—Jeff Weaver.

Not even pictured here was a sixth starter, David Wells, who had a previously scheduled chicken-wing eating contest, or something.

And in the end, this team...didn't have enough pitching.

A certain Mr. S.F.B. Cashman, GM for Life, forgot to restock the bullpen. After The Greatest Closer What Ever Was came the likes of Chris Hammond, a recycled Jeff Nelson, and even, briefly, Armando Benitez.

At a key moment in the World Series, Joe Torre decided to throw Weaver into a game in the 11th inning—and the rest is history. All right, that was probably due more to the petite mal seizures Torre began having in the postseason, starting in 2001. But still.

As it turned out, The Bronze Giant was really The Papier-Maché Colossus, save for when he was able to lead the ChiSox to a World Series win in 2005. Jeff Weaver, supposedly a can't-miss youngster, turned out to be another One-Fall Wonder...and that fall belonged to the St. Louis Cardinals, in 2006. 

Wells begged out of a Series game after one inning—then walked off the team in a huff when the Yanks politely requested that he seriously consider salads.

No, you never can have enough pitching—a lesson Brian Cashman resolutely refuses to learn, no matter how many times it is beaten into him.

HAL won't let you sign some young stud to a risky, long-term contract? Fine, go get a "loaner." 

As Kevin pointed out, Cashman has now punted three times on making an offer for a short-term deal to Charlie Morton—two of those times even after Morton was instrumental in beating us in the 2017 ALCS. The Yanks missed out on a pitcher who went 89-41, with 7 postseason wins—and two rings—in those years.

But here we are again.  

Personally, like many here, I would favor signing Monty and Snell, BOTH, and in that order. Yes, Snell, in particular, has downsides. But are the Yankees leaping for that rapidly closing window, or what?

I know that JM like Trevor Bauer, and I agree that—much like Domingo German—he did not receive due process. But—much like Domingo German—there are "other issues." 

Personally, I think that if the Yanks sign Bauer, they should dress him, Rodon, and Stroman up like the Three Stooges, bring back the old "Hey Moe" video the Mets used to play during the seventh-inning stretch, and have them poke, slap, and punch each other to their heart's content. That way we'd at least get some entertainment value out of these scalawags.

But I digress. 

Point is, Cashie has—yet again!—failed to sufficiently shore up the rotation, or "super-charge" the bullpen. Doing the same thing in the same way and expecting different results...ah yes, the supposed definition of insanity. Or was that Linsanity? I forget. Our teams all have their own ways of driving us mad.

The Gary Sanchez applecart just keeps rolling, ever steadily, to somewhere

 

Yesterday, the former future Yankee great Gary Sanchez signed with the Brewers of Milwaukee for $7 million:

Another city, another team, another one-year deal, another chance for us all wonder what might have been. 

Remember 2016? Of course, you do! He was just "Gary." He arrived in July, amid a wave of youth - Aaron Judge, Tyler Austin, Brigadoon Refsnyder - that chased A-Rod into retirement, and roused the fan base into actually believing in the future. A team left for dead made a late run, finishing six over .500, and nearly qualified for the postseason. 

That year, Gary hit 20 HRs in 53 games, batted .299 and showed off a gun behind the plate. Then, in 2017, he belted 33 HRs, wowed the HR derby and had us thinking of the the next Dickey, the next Yogi, the next Thurman, the next Georgie - the next all-star catcher who would frame a resurgence for years to come.

Today, in Milwaukee, he sports a lifetime batting average of .225, a career achiever in passed balls (third on the list of active players), the man known for some of the least  hustling moments in Yankee history (remember the guy scoring from second on a wild pitch?) and the ignominy of being traded for Josh Donaldson. 

I know what you're thinking: There must be a moral here, right? It's "Don't fall for the cabana boy, Mrs. Falwell." Right? If we knew then what we know now, they Yankees could have traded Gary for who knows what? But I can't even blame Cooperstown Cashman. We thought we had a life one. 

Or maybe here is a moral: Don't make a 16-year-old a multimillionaire, because he'll never understand hunger. 

Every great Yankee period has begotten a great catcher. This year, the team will break out Austin Wells, a LH with power, though his defense remains questionable. He'll vie with Jose Trevino, a defensive catcher who doesn't hit much.  After that, there is no celebrated stud rising in the farm system. 

In December, the Yankees protected two young catchers on their 40 man roster. Carlos Narvaez is 25 and looks more like a lug nut than a star. Augustin Ramirez  is 22, and last year hit .271 over three levels, finishing in Double A. A third guy, Ben Rice, 24, hit .324 with 20 HRs over three levels, but he might end up at 1B.

And Gary is still going. Another team, another uniform, another manager, another chance to think of what might've been.  

It's not only the Yankees: Nobody in the AL East has enough pitching

 

Yesterday, on  YES - the Yankee propaganda and porn network - the crazy crew posted a graphic of the AL East's projected starting rotations, a soul- soothing reminder that the 1964 Dodgers have nothing to fear, in terms of historical legacy. 

It's always refreshing to realize that no team has enough pitching, pitching, pitching - especially our former great rivals in New England, whose current rotation projects the testosterone of the Marianne Williamson presidential campaign. Ah, Boston! May they always grind our grist. But let's dismiss our Beantown buds, for now. 

Only one comparison matters... Hot L Baltimore. And it's bleak. 

The O's now have a genuine ace/Cy Young candidate in Corbin Burnes, obtained last week from Milwaukee. He joins a wave of talent from a farm system generally ranked No. 1 in all of baseball. 

That said, eight of the O's top 10 prospects are position players. Only two - LH Cade Povich and RH Chayce McDermott - could crack the 2024 rotation. And in the name of Jhony Brito, we know how chaotic rookie pitchers can be. So, there is hope, right?

No. Forget hope. It's Baltimore we must fear. Last season, their No. 2, Kyle Bradish went 12-7 with an ERA of 2.83. He'll be 27 this year. He looks like the real deal, and, at least for now, stands head and shoulders above our projected No. 2, Carlos McCortschmidt. 

Then comes Grayson Rodriguez, a long-prophesized RH prospect. He cometh last year, age 23, throwing 122 innings. If he improves... humina-humina-humina...

Then comes Dean Kremer, who went 13-5 last year, at age 27. 

Listen: We have some marquee names. Cole. Stroman. Rodon. They have guys who are still growing their future contracts. Come 2030, they could be salting our rotation. Which is the problem, no?

With luck, the Yankees might stack up against Toronto and Tampa (though the Rays always unveil young arms, so we dismiss them at our peril.) Baltimore is the team to beat.  

And if - say - Toronto were to sign Blake Snell... 

The Yankee pitching staff, as it now stands, has more loose bolts than a Boeing jetliner

They say baseball is 90 percent pitching, pitching, pitching. 

So be it.

Days before camp Tampa opens, here is the Yankee staff, with notes about last year.

Starters: 
Gerrit Cole (great, magnificent, wondrous; can he repeat?)
Clarke Schmidt (threw 100 more innings than in 2022)
Marcus Stroman (3.95 ERA his highest since 2018)
Carlos Rodon (returning from injury)
Nestor Cortes (returning from injury)

Swing:
Luke Weaver (did well in 3 games; season ERA: 6.40)

RH Middle innings bullpen:
Scott Effross (returning from injury)
Ian Hamilton (fell apart in September; ERA: 6.35)

LH Middle innings bullpen:
Caleb Ferguson (second half ERA: 4.18)
Victor Gonzalez (missed all of 2022, ERA: 4.01)

Setup:
Tommy Kahnle (second half ERA: 4.26)
Jonathan Loaisiga (returning from injury)

Closer: 
Clay Holmes (second half ERA 3.71; far above first-half 2.23)

Okay, I'm cherry-picking stats here, basically because I'm a miserable person who always sees the Yankee glass as half full - of gasoline. But after Cole and Holmes, I don't see any sure bets here, and getting through the eighth inning is going to give us heart attacks. 

Any injury - and here's the rub: we know they are coming - will spin plates off the sticks. The Yankees are literally playing with fire. Maybe Clayton Beeter or Chase Hampton will rise from the minors and save us, but is that we've been reduced to - hoping for rookies to rise out of nowhere?

If, say, Nestor Cortes tweaks something in spring training, just a minor thingy, it sets off a domino drop that will, by July, fry the bullpen. 

Blake Snell is still out there. I know, I know... beating a dead horse... but as Roy Scheider once said, "We're gonna need a bigger boat!"

Gardner ancestor discovered at archeological dig

It's my dead horse and I'll beat it if I want to. (Wasn't that a Leslie Gore song?)

Is this the year that the Yankees finally lose New York?

Since 2017 - the year we lost to those #$@% cheating Astros - this website has faithfully tallied the number of tabloid front and back pages to be lavished each year upon that wretched cabal of miscreants and underachievers known as New York City sports teams. 

And every year, the mighty Yankees have finished at the top.

Generally, it's not even close, though last year, the Death Barge - banished from the wild card race by September - only managed to outdraw the Aaron Rodgers-fueled Jets by 14 measly covers. 

This year, something has happened. A sea change seems to be taking place in that utterly barren, billionaire-owned landscape of Big Apple sports. 

Specifically, that upheaval is from the Knicks, currently second in the NBA Eastern Conference, who have already accrued 31 tabloid covers - more than that of all other NY teams combined. They Knicks will probably go several rounds into the 2024 playoffs - into late May or even June - stealing covers from spring training and baseball's opening weeks of the season. 

Meanwhile - and this should terrify the Yankee front office -  the Mets seem to be assembling an actual plan. Last year, new owner Stevie Cohen flung himself like a sex-starved groupie at aging stars such as Justin Verlander and Max Scherzer, only to flatline by mid-August. This year, they are building a team. It should not be overlooked that the Mets outbid the Yankees by $25 million for Yoshi Yamamoto, only to be then outgunned by the Dodgers' voodoo economics. They have money to burn, and at some point, Cohen will light the fire. 

Of course, the Yankees can still generate ink. If the 2024 team collapses, the event itself will launch rivers. But they now face the ascending team of this decade, the #@$% Orioles, and apparently, they will head into spring training with a pitching staff full of uncertainties. If the Yankees make it to the postseason, they could still pull in a pile of back pages. But for now, they appear to be chasing a wild card.

Their run atop New York City's sports skyline may be coming to an end. And if they lose it, the Yankees might find it very hard to regain.

Dear Mr. Steinbrenner... Your '24 Yankees are "The Team of 1,000 Ifs."

Dear Madam or Sir,

It's time to ponder your legacy as owner of the once great New York Yankees.

You've won one world series since 2001. That's behind the Astros, Cardinals, Giants and Redsocks.

You've conceded baseball's marquee spotlight to the Dodgers. 

You've watched the Orioles come to dominate the AL East.

And you've assembled a team of "Ifs." 

I won't list them all. Frankly, I can't. There simply are too many. But almost every one requires the Yankees to suddenly receive great production from past disappointments. 

At best, maybe half will pan out. That's why they're called "Ifs."

Listen: Yank fans love to believe in their team. They still see the Yankees as something special, more than merely the Padres or Royals. They accept the injuries, the slumps, the trials and the tribulations that come each season, shortly after February 20th arrives, and - for better or worse - our hopes converge.

But you've invested $225 million in a team that resembles a Boeing jet with a hole in its side. We simply don't have enough pitching. 

Will you really enter this season with such a glaring weakness? 

Because this is your legacy.

Until Blake Snell signs with someone else, he still holds the key to the Yankees' 2024 season

Breaking news: Keynan Middleton has signed with St. Louis, joining Wandering Wandy Peralta in leaving the Yankees, as they enter 2024.

But but BUT... am I being excessively harsh on our heroes? Certainly, the Yankees can overtake Baltimore and win the AL East if only...

... Carlos Rodon somehow returns to 2022 form.

... Giancarlo Stanton hits like it's 2019.

... Nestor Cortes finds his fastball from 2021.

... Anthony Rizzo comes back from his concussion.

... Aaron Judge stays healthy.

... Gerrit Cole repeats his Cy Young season.

... Anthony Volpe learns to hit.

... Alex Verdugo has a career year.

... Juan Soto turns out to be as hyped.

... DJ LeMahieu returns tos 2020 form.

... And a pile of other "ifs" go our way. 

Yeah, I take it back. If everything goes right, we'll be fine. 

We certainly don't need no Blake Snell - nope, nobody - not when we got that Clayton Beeter.

(Note to Mr. Steinbrenner:

(Sir, please don't be discouraged by the Orioles' paltry selling price of $1.7 billion. That's just Baltimore. Everything costs less there. I bet you could get $10 billion for the Yankees. Ten billion! Think of the horses you could buy. You could win the  Kentucky Derby. Or, a super yacht, based on your own private island. You could hold big parties with supermodels, TV stars and members of the royal family. You could be a great humanitarian, celebrated at the Met Gala, dating a Kardashian and presenting at the Golden Globes.

(Sir, you do not need to go through life being picked on by lowlife Yankee fans. You can have it all! Ten billion dollars. Don't be afraid to dream. Just sayin...)

"[I]f Carlos Rodón and Nestor Cortes can both bounce back and return to the 2022 versions of themselves, the Yankees’ rotation will stack up with any team across the league, including Baltimore’s. The risk the Yankees run if they do not add someone like, say, Blake Snell in free agency is if both Rodón and Cortes are duds once again, this team as constructed does not have the pitching depth needed to win a World Series. If the Yankees can add Snell on a short-term deal, they should strongly consider it. By adding Soto, a free agent next offseason, the Yankees declared themselves as all-in for 2024. Signing Snell would be an all-in type of move that would only cost money and not prospect capital."

See? It's not just me saying it: That's from The Athletic. 

The Yankees are on the cusp of doing something incredibly inept (and Metlike): 

They might short-ball their last best chance to win a world series. 

As currently constructed, they are a middling, knock-kneed, wild card contender. Nothing more. And I'm sorry to keep repeating the same tired pleas to sign Blake Snell. (Or Jordan Montgomery, but according to rumors, he's done with the Yankees.) He is certainly no long term answer. Snell is underwhelming, overrated, outlandishly priced, and without his beard, he looks like a weasel. 

But so be it. Weasel it is! If the Yankees merely stand pat, if they simply keep shaking their Magic 8 Ball until it says something happy, they will squander the walk years of Gleyber Torres, Alex Verdugo and Juan Soto - and perhaps the career peak seasons of Gerrit Cole and Aaron Judge. We could piss away the best years of baseball's premier pitcher and position player. (Suck on it, Shohei.) 

It is now or never. 

We must keep beating the  drums against Yankee incontinence. Scream from the building tops. Hold signs at intersections. Anybody have a sound truck? Is skywriting still a thing? Can we "SWAT" somebody? People, this is our last chance, our final crusade. Look at the ages on this roster. The Yankees either win in 2024, or we should find caves and wait for the apocalypse. We are 15 years from the last Yankee world championship, and we might be another 15 from the next.

If the Yankees are done this winter, they are consciously settling for second place. 

Is that what the Yankees do? 

The headline you didn't see coming: ASTROS GET CABBAGE

 

Put him on the all time IIHIIFIIc list of necessary Yankee acquisitions. 

In a "Now-or-Never" year, could the Yankees try a moonshot?

Courtesy Above Average

According to Zuckerberg's baby-sitter - aka, the Internet - the Yankees and Blake Snell remain far, far apart, on different planets in distant solar systems inside remote universes, in contract proposals.

Cooperstown Cashman - aka, The Brian that Would Not Die -recently offered Snell $150 million over 6 years. Do the math. That's, um, $25 million per season.

Snell's agent, Scott Boras - aka, baseball's P.T. Barnum - responded with a demand of $270 million over 9 years: That's $30 million per season, a ridiculous sum for a guy who barely threw 400 innings over the entire four years before 2023. In other words, his Cy Young season in 2023 was an outlier, not the norm. 

After Boras' rejection, the Yankees quickly pulled their offer and signed Matt Gage. (So there!) Nothing has happened since. In the old days, some might suggest collusion. But that was when collusion was illegal. Today, all bets are off.

At age 31, there's no way Snell should snag a 9-year deal from any team, unless it is owned by a mad, runaway hedge-fund billionaire. Snell might deliver for three or four years, but he certainly won't last nine, which means he'll end up rotting like a corpse on some team's phantom injury list, being ridiculed on talk radio and blamed for everything that's wrong with America.  

You have to wonder if it's worth the money, spending the end of your career being pissed on by Boomer Esiason.

So, what if... the Yankees offered Snell, say, $30 million for one year? Make it conditional. If he delivers 30 starts, another $5 million. If he pitches in a world series, another $5 million. He can prove his value once and for all. If the Yankees win a championship, they'd face enormous fan pressure to re-sign him. (And if they balked, it would be because he received better offers from the likes of Los Angeles or Philadelphia - the big-spending teams.)

A one-year deal to prove himself and bank $40 million. A moonshot.

I know what you're thinking: It'll never happen. And, yeah, you're right, it probably won't. But the Dodgers just shook the world by signing Shohei Ohtani to a long-term deal that cooked their financial books so they could then spend another $35 million on Yoshi Yamamoto. If they can play games with luxury taxes, why can't we?

The Yankees are facing an all-or-nothing season. By this time next year, we could be losing Juan Soto, Alex Verdugo, Gleyber Torres, Tommy Kahnle and Gerrit Cole, through his opt-out clause. 

Our big chance is now: 2024. It's time for a moonshot and some creative bookkeeping.