The insanity of contending for the wild card

The Blue Jays are seven games below .500 - yet only 5.5 games behind the final wild card berth.

It's like an elementary school talent show where every contestant wins a prize. 

Here's a prediction: In our lifetimes, we will see the splitting of the wild card into two single game playoffs. Two "away" wild card teams will play on a neutral field for the chance to play the one-game wild card winner on its home field.

If that were now in effect, Oakland would still be in contention. Only the White Sox would be out of it. Why is baseball ignoring such a solid money-making opportunity? 

The Golden State Warriors of... 2014?

THERE! It just happened again. Did you feel it? That sense of predestination, oncoming dread... It's hard to explain, but something's fishy here. Every now and then, I get a massive flashback, a bolt of Yogi-vu all over again... as if I've been here before - experienced all of this in some previous incarnation. Suddenly, I know exactly what is going to happen next. And then, DEAR GOD, THEN IT HAPPENS, EXACTLY AS I FORESAW IT.

This defies logic. Everyone knows you cannot predict baseball. It's the fundamental tenet of the Sterlingtonian Universe. And yet, it keeps happening again and again! 

Last night, the terrifying revelation came unto me: 

What if we are not really alive, but simulations in some massive alien experiment?

It came in the middle innings. The Yankees loaded the bases. The great Gary Sanchez marched to the plate. It was a clearly a moment for hope, for anticipation, for a magnificent Yankee rally. And yet... I knew he was going to strike out on a pitch in the dirt. I knew it. It was as if I were being forced to relive some past horror, some demented Groundhog Day scenario, until something new happens. But what could that be?

Last week, at the trade deadline, I knew the Yankees would deal piles of young talent for players that other teams were desperate to unload - Todd Frazier, for Christsake! - and that - immediately - the independent, all-knowing Gammonites of the media would pronounce us as "winners" of the trade. I tell you, I've been here before. 

This morning, I dug through my archives, trying to find connections within the matrix. I found this disturbing picture of a "Yankee lineup," evidence of a previous incarnation that no one remembers. It's proof that we reliving some machine-created "reality" from the past. We are Travis Hafnering, all over again. I tell you, WE HAVE BEEN HERE BEFORE!  

People... Yankee fans... or whatever you are... I'M ONTO YOU! I know that none of this is real. I know that we are not free-thinking individuals, making decisions in a free universe. I know that you, me, or the Yankees themselves are digitized, avatar-faced algorithms created in some gigantic videogame sequence, and we are all being forced to watch the team collapse under its own hubris again and again and again - while the front office congratulates itself. Is this Hell? Am I being punished? Are we just bits of digital DNA, swirling inside the computer "mind" of some eternally sequenced Holodeck? (By the way, that would explain Trump, the Mooch, Hillary... all of American politics.) 

If so, listen... whoever the fuck you are, I AM CALLING YOU OUT!

That's right. I'm saying it, loud and clear: WE ARE NOT PLAYING YOUR LITTLE GAME ANY MORE. WE KNOW THIS A FABRICATION. WE KNOW THIS IS NOT REALLY HAPPENING. THERE IS NO HAL STEINBRENNER. THERE IS NO BRIAN CASHMAN. THE "TODD FRAZIER" MICRO-EXPERIMENT MUST BE CANCELED. NOW. YOU HAVE OVERSTEPPED THE LIMITS OF BELIEVABILITY. WE ARE NOT GOING TO PLAY THIS STINKING GAME ANY MORE.

Now, if you'll excuse me, haha, I'm going to drink some of this fake Draino that these fools put beneath the kitchen sink, thinking I would fall for it. I'll show them...  

How Much Did Castro Hurt US BY Pulling A Greg Bird?

Seriously folks, remember when Castro re-appeared briefly a few weeks ago?
I think he had completed one game of re-hab in the minors, two at the most.

So he returns and immediately looks like his legs are encased in a layer of muck from the lagoon.  His speed has become a slog.  He can barley beat out a single to left field.

The broadcasters simply wrote this off as , " getting his body back."  It would just be a matter of a few games.

Finally, he tried to turn on the old jets and pulled his hammy even worse.  And we haven't seen him since.  In the meantime, Torreyes and Wade take turns playing second base.  It has become the sink hole that Greg Bird left us with at first base, by playing through an injury.

News flash;  that doesn't not happen in baseball.  Aaron Hicks could not play through a pectoral tear;  Gary Sanchez could not play through a disconnected bicep; on it goes.  But no ones listens and no one learns.

Which brings me to Tyler Wade. A player getting lots of reps in Castro's extended absence.  His name is never mentioned when the Yankees' "Citizens United " press corps speaks of how well Brian Cashman protected the Yankee farm system and prospect base.  He is the one guy no one would have bitched about if he had been dealt, say, instead of Mateo or Kaprielian or Fowler.  Or any of the others we threw away for old man .205 Frazier, or any of the nameless old clowns now crowding the roster.

Editorial aside:   Do the Yankees not see, by the way, that "Ichabod" Frazier's ( my nickname ) batting average has declined since he arrived?  Is that because no one thought it possible to worsen? New Yankee nerves?  Why are the White Sox laughing their asses off?  Why do the Yankees think that having a little league world series hero from Toms River, New Jersey, trumps his performance on the field?

Back to lead story....  As soon as Castro draws a healthy breath, Tyler Wade should be jettisoned.

He should be ejected to AA or lower.  I have seen him as a strikeout/double play machine with poor fielding skills.  Is he playing out of position?  He is conducting a friendly rivalry with the ailing Holliday ( I see his body emaciating, and the Yankee doctors have missed something ) for the most destructive Yankee.

Once again, we kept a guy who hurts us more than Jesus Montero.  He should be gone tomorrow.  Bring up anyone, and the team will improve.  Addition by subtraction.

Wade is not ready for this level and we may be destroying his confidence forever.  When a prospect gets a long look and fails, it has to register.  Isn't anyone looking?

Hit that eject button and let's move on.

In the long run, maybe last week's trades will be the best thing that ever happened

Here's a horrible, painful, totally hurtful thought: Someday, maybe three years from now, we'll look back on the six-game winning streak of July 2017 - last week's mini-hallucination of hope - as the best thing that ever happened to the Yankees. 

Yep. No misprint. The best that ever happened.

By then, Dustin Fowler, James Kaprielian and Jorge Mateo could be fixtures in Oakland, and Blake Rutherford could be emerging for the White Sox. Unless we're sporting a new world series ring, last week's brief surge could go down as the Great False Read of 2017. That little streak would be remembered as Brian Cashman's justification for ditching the Yankee rebuilding plan and chasing the brass ring... which in turn spawned his contract year downfall.

If the Yankees collapse, could Cashman finally go?

Looking back, we might laugh at our own gullibility. We won six in a row against middling Seattle, the last place Reds and Tampa, which kicked the ball around like Manchester United. Suddenly, we found ourselves like Chauncy Gardiner in first place and - as a result - scrapped the long range rebuilding plan for an all-or-nothing run. It will be remembered as "the Todd Frazier period," when we briefly assumed the mantle of "Golden State Warriors of baseball." How mockingly will that phrase be used.

Oh, we'll say, what a jolly time it was! Six wins. It was as if the entire team took part in an IT IS HIGH drunk blog. Six wins! - sandwiched by lengthy, soul-sapping slumps. It began by losing two out of three to dismal Detroit, then we went to Cleveland, Toronto and Boston. And by mid August... ugh...

Listen: I'm saying this in the hope that, by putting it in writing, it cannot happen. But this is serious: We may soon call for a juju intervention. Last night, our June-July malaise officially began stretching into August. Today, like those campers in The Blair Witch Project, we're right back to where we were, before we started clomping around in the woods. We're scraping the chalk board as our fingernails slide,  and we're once again chasing a wild card berth - a wild card berth - in a field where all but two AL teams remain contenders.

In one week, we went from a future dynasty to the Pronk/Vernon Wells lineup that cannot score three runs in a game. Last night, down 2-0 after the first, seriously, who thought we had a chance?

I don't mean to throw in the towel. In Girardi's managerial career, the Yankees almost never quit. (Well, there were late season meltdowns in Boston, after which, you really couldn't blame them.) Often, they look dead as dildos, only to stand up and fight. Last night, with Corey Kluber pitching, we were destined to lose. Could Luis Severino be our Kluber, our Chris Sale? Because unless this ship turns around, we're playing for the one-game post-season, as we have for the last five years.  

Last week, Cashman laid everything on the line. It's now or never. Maybe that's a good thing, because this is his contract year. If last week's trades - for which he already taken victory laps - blow up in our faces, maybe the real long term hope for the Yankees is new management. A stunning collapse would hasten such a move. 

Don't get me wrong: I'm not rooting for us to lose. I'm just saying that when you trade the future for a one-shot run, you better not fail. Right now, since the trades were finalized, we're 0-3. And already, last week's wins look like a dream we may someday rue.

Hope springs eternal

(BOB HOPE ONSTAGE, REACTING TO TOM'S COMMENT)

Well, if it's in the Times, it must be true. (AUDIENCE CHUCKLES)

I want to thank the guys who remembered that Granderson was our reward for Ian Kennedy and Austin Jackson. If only we had a guy who hit 40 home runs and batted .220 now...oh, wait, didn't he used to play first? (LAUGHTER, SMATTERING OF APPLAUSE)

But seriously, ladies and gentlemen, how 'bout them Yankees? (MIXED AUDIENCE REACTION) 

These guys looked like they were going to the World Series a couple months ago, but thanks to the collapse of the offense and the shrewd moves by Brian Cashman, they're going somewhere else...it involves flushing, and I don't mean where the Mets play. (WILD LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE)

But it's a good thing we got these new pitchers, Cy Young and Walter Johnson. (LAUGHTER)

Don't ya love it when they start touting how a guy was really good a couple years ago and has been on a hot streak lately? (SOUND OF TOILET FLUSHING) (AUDIENCE LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE)

Next we're gonna be hearing about how Todd Frazier is showing signs of returning to his Little League form. (LAUGHTER) But, really, that's actually true. The only problem is, he has to play in Little League to do it. (APPLAUSE, WHISTLES)

But I wanna tell ya, it's a good thing we let Andrew Miller go and signed Chapman to a big contract. Too bad opposing teams heard that as "big contact." (LONG LAUGH, MORE APPLAUSE)

You know, ladies and gentlemen, I kid the New York Yankees, but I'm like you--I really want them to do well. All we have to do is get Crosby to buy them from the Steinbrenners, fire Cashman and Girardi and everybody in the front office, and let the kids develop into a powerhouse. But getting Crosby to buy them is a lot like getting Jack Benny to tip the bartender. (LAUGHTER) It IS possible. Theoretically. (LAUGHTER, APPLAUSE)

Anyway, you've been a great audience, and in a few minutes we'll have Miss Lola Falana out here. (APPLAUSE) So stay tuned while we hear a word from our new sponsor, the New York Knicks. (APPLAUSE, FADE)

Dear Sonny, welcome to the Yankees, you better throw a shutout

Dear Mr. Gray,

Congratulations! You've been selected as a full-fledged member of the 2017 Bronx Bombers (formerly "Baby Bombers"), the newly rechristened "'17 Golden State Warriors of Baseball Hall of Fame Superteam of Destiny (TM).

According to independent analyses, provided by the YES Network, the Yankees are projected to clinch the 2017 AL East. All you need to do is prepare for Game One of the playoffs - or, as a slight possibility, the one game Bud Selig Wild Card. That means not blowing out your elbow. (That's a joke, of course. There's no reason to think you would blow out your elbow. Just saying it, so it doesn't happen. Nobody thinks it will. Never mind this. Pretend I said nothing. No sense thinking about bad things. Not that I was thinking about it. Nobody is.) 

In the meantime, here's the takeaway: It would be very much appreciated if you toss a few shutouts. We don't need perfect games. A couple five-hitters would do fine. Or, throw eight scoreless innings and - wait, actually, on second thought - let's stick with complete games. There's been a little glitch in our late innings - nothing to worry about - but now and then our closers go through - well - adjustments. Just go nine. Let's leave it at that. Nine. (And don't blow out that elbow, eh, mate? Heh heh, just joking. Bobs yer uncle!)

Recapping here: Think shutout. For example, tonight you'll face Corey Kluber, who has an ERA of 2.90. I don't think you should assume the Yankees will score 2.9 runs. In fact, I think you should pitch under the assumption that the team will score 0.0 runs tonight. Yes, zero point zero. We're going through a bit of a thistle patch here - nothing to worry about, mind you. At least, I don't think so. Well, actually, there might be some concerns. The problem is - well, it's so minor that I hesitate to even bring it up - the problem is we have one hitter. His name is Didi Gregorius, and last night he flopped. So, summarizing: Shutout. Nine innings. Hit totals are up to you.  

Wait... I don't want to give you the wrong impression. Everything is great! Wonderful! Fantastic! We're in first, uh, second. Here's some great news: Aaron Judge says he's figured out what's wrong. He's been jusssssssst missing pitches - not by much. Micrometers. Soon, we'll be back to chanting "M-V-P" when he comes to bat. Lately, it's been crickets. Tonight, if you hear anyone chanting "M-V-P," it'll probably be sarcastic Cleveland fans. Tune it out.

You will want to say hello to Matt Holliday. Lift his spirits. For the last weeks, as holidays go, he has become Friday the 13th. Bit of a slump, you might say. In the month of July, Matt hit .130. with 4 RBIs. He has hit into 13 double plays, each one a root canal. With two outs and runners in scoring position - the do-or-die moment for a veteran - he's at .182. In the category called "Late and Close," he's batting .232. I could give more stats. I prefer not to.

As you know, most ballplayers have the career lifespan of a beloved pet. Some last 20 years, cuddly to the end. Some turn into bumper stickers. Either way, sooner or later, you're constantly cleaning up after them. They'll have a good day, you'll assure yourself they're fine again, the medication works and it'll be like old times. Then they crap the bed. Last night, Holliday got two hits - though not in the eighth, with the tying run on base. Tonight, we're hoping for the best. Nobody wants to bench a veteran, any more than we want to take Packy for that final ride to the veterinarian. 

Also, say hello to your fellow newcomer, Todd Frazier. There's an old saying, "Sometimes, when everyone says it's raining, it's raining." With regard to Todd, it's raining. He came to the Yankees batting .207. He's now batting .205. If we were expecting a "Welcome home, Todd" hitting streak - well, so much for that. Still, the YES folks are giving Todd credit for Chase Headley's recent resurgence - he's getting singles and doubles - as a result of moving to first base. For the life of me, I cannot understand this. Maybe you can figure it out? Looks to me as though, in the batting order, we replaced Chris Carter with Chris Carter. Oh, well, don't mind me. 

Recapping now: Shutouts. Nine innings will do. Welcome to the golden state of chaos.

Rain of terror

We are 1-2 since becoming the Golden State Warriors of baseball. 

Is it a slump or a market correction?

Last night, the official 2017 Moment of Shit - the one we've long dreaded - finally arrived: 

Aaron Judge's batting average dipped below .300. 

It came with a pop up. Lately, Judge has been hitting them in bunches. The YESsirs assure us it's a common slump - he'll pull out, he'll heat-up, not worried, he's taking pitches, he's getting good wood, he's squaring the bat, he's bearing down, he's acting presidential, yattayatta... But that beautiful, magnificent June - back when Judge was chasing the triple fucking crown! - has turned into dog-day, melted Popsicle August, and if you look closely, a few leaves show tinges of yellow. For three wondrous months, we flew above the clouds. We enjoyed a ringside seat to a Ruthian performance - 30 HRs and .340. The hell with Trout and Harper; we had the lodestone, the lock for Cooperstown, the best damn player in baseball.

He still could be. His numbers still look fearsome. But the pop-ups keep coming. They used to be doubles. Over his three year minor league career, Judge batted .278. If his final 2017 average ends up there, I'll take it. Because the truth is, we still don't know if we're watching a slump or a market correction. Did MLB pitchers find his Achilles heel? If so, can he re-adjust?

In that vein, Judge is following Gary Sanchez, who last year put up MVP numbers that simply could not be sustained. Sanchez now looks like a .250 hitter with 30-HR capabilities, and a few defensive quirks behind the plate. That's still all-star material. Again, I'll take it. But it's not Johnny Bench. 

One reason why teams usually take two or three years to rebuild is that young players must find their talent ceilings. They need time. Our emerging nucleus - Judge, Sanchez, Severino, Gregorius, Hicks - took several seasons to evolve. With the exception of Sanchez, who burst out like a lion, the others pretty much stank at first. Remember Didi's mental errors? Severino's horror show? Hicks was awful, and Judge struck out 40 percent of the time. That's not to mention the continuing failures of Greg Bird, Tyler Austin, Rob Refsnyder, Mason Williams, Slade Heathcott... To develop a young core, a franchise needs to be committed to youth over several seasons. 

Right now, we're seeing it with Clint Frazier and Tyler Wade. Frazier's average is plummeting by six or seven points per at bat. Last night, he left two game-changing runs on third. Wade is barely hitting his weight. Yet both need to play. Their futures are too bright to be pissed away in Scranton, a la Refsnyder, or traded for nothing, a la Ben Gamel. They need time. An August pennant race is a bad time to be grinding on them. 

Next year, presumably, we will unveil infielders Miguel Andujar (.330 at Scranton) and Glyber Torres (.309), and maybe OFs Jake Cave (.376) and Billy McKinney (.343), who have re-established themselves. (Obviously, way too many outfielders.) They'll all need half a season to get acclimated. Same with pitchers Justus Sheffield and Chance Adams. They'll need innings. If the Yankees were out of the 2017 race, this could have provided that adjustment period. 

Don't get me wrong: The 2017 Yankees are going for broke and - hell, yeah! - they should be in the mix. But the kids need to play. I guess I'm especially wondering if Todd Frazier - .207 - is going to play the rest of the way, while Andujar rots in coal country. Balancing a long term Yankee plan with the immediate pennant race remains the biggest challenge facing this franchise. I just hope we don't lose sight of it. Because you know what? Even with a pop-up, Judge DOES look presidential.

No need for razors?

Loose thought about the trade deadline:

It's been a while since we went through it without somebody having to shave. (Or did I miss one?)

What's done is done. Now, it's all about Sonny, Jaime and Todd (Oh my)

I'm typing from the ice bath. It'll take days, weeks to recover from the self-inflicted bruises. It happens every Aug. 1.

The trouble with trading prospects is that one tiny miscalculation - one eency-weency glitch - and you lose a generation. You watch Fred McGriff go out the door, and while everyone is celebrating the deal - (Tom Dodd and Dale Murray!) - poof: Twenty years later, he's entering the Hall of Fame, and you still wonder what the hell happened? 

I'm not saying that's what happened yesterday. We seemed to keep our future intact. At least, it looks so to the naked eye. I do like that we received $1.5 million in international cap spending - MLB's version of trading for a top draft pick. I do not like the fact that our Top 30 MLB prospects list now includes a 16-year-old Latino who has never played a game. That's a bad sign, no matter how you slice it. (Along with that renewed feeling of "why bother; he'll get traded anyway.")

Wanna judge yesterday's trades? Forget it. It's like making scotch: You need 15 years. That's why I barf when writers - who clearly know better - instantly slobber praise over a move. In our modern media, the Yankees basically cover themselves. We want to think of Jack Curry and Michael Kay as independent voices, but they are employees who answer to Brian Cashman just as much as Trudy, the receptionist. (By the way, that's why I cut John Sterling so much slack; he never hides his unabashed Yankee loyalty, which is akin to the love that a moose has for his flying squirrel.) When an institution or government no longer faces outside criticism, it eventually collapses under its own hubris. What what better way to describe the Yankees in this millennium. 

Ah, but why scream at the mountain? It doesn't listen. What's done is done. As Rummy once said, you go to war with the army you have. Today, we have six starting pitchers, with Jordan Montgomery - the most pleasant surprise of 2017 - likely to be sent to the bullpen or Scranton. (Also, so long Garrett Cooper! Let the record show that you outlasted the Mooch!) Forget the "Baby Bombers" marketing slogan. This is once again a team of former all stars. When Aaron Hicks returns, the outfield will overflow. If Greg Bird ever dares to show his face, what then? The September roster expansion is a month away. But Boston is 10 days away. A lot of water will soon flow under the Sonny Gray Memorial Bridge. 

Still, I'm having trouble with baseball's annual massive Aug. 1 restructuring, which is now the norm. The season is split into BEFORE and AFTER the trade deadline. You can see in the standings a big red line between contenders and teams that have punted on 2017. Good grief, Minnesota is barely 5 games out of the Wild Card, but they lost a few games and went home. If the Yankees had been swept by Tampa this week - as they were last year at this time - would we have been buyers yesterday?  

Games are way too long. Who can devote four hours to watching TV. Moreover, they have evolved into boring strikeout/walk/homer marathons. And here's the rub: It's the same with the season. Why follow the team from April 1 to August 1, when it will simply undergo a total transformation at the deadline? For me, the Yankees are not just stars but a cast of characters - Tyler Austins and Giovanni Gallegos - whose successes and failures give a sense of humanity. Why bother, if they're just going to replaced by a bunch of veteran stiffs?

Ah, but what's done is done. Why yell at the mountain? Yesterday, the writers celebrated how Yankee management, by obtaining Gray, "sent a message" that to the team "is all in on 2017!" Well, I don't buy that. The greatest GM in modern history, Pat Gillick, was famously called "Stand Pat" because he refused to trade prospects at deadlines. He built the Blue Jays (World Champs 1992 and 93), the Orioles (solid in late 1990s), the Mariners (single season win record 2000-2003) and the Phillies (2008 champs.) Gillick's teams understood that, by standing pat, he was showing faith in them. Why has rearranging all the furniture become the form of showing support? 

Oh, by the way, Gillick's the guy who snared Fred McGriff from us. We celebrated that day. Tom Dodd and Dale Murray! Just a thought.

"It's like reverse Moneyball."

Over at Athletics Nation, a lot of the commenters sound like... well, they sound like us.

This blows

I almost puked

I was prepared to be really excited about this trade as a seller. I'm not, because the return sucks.

A’s trade Sonny Gray to the Yankees for two injured prospects and a guy who’s been dogging it for most of the past two seasons.

This is fucking horrible. Yankees made off like bandits

But look on the bright side -- the Yankees had to give up their two best seriously-injured prospects!

There is a very, very real chance we just traded Sonny for 3 players who will never contribute even a modicum at the major league level. We got absolutely had. Just admit it.

It's like reverse Moneyball.

Not a single elite talent, or even top-100 prospect, for a top-20 pitcher with 2+ years of cheap control. One player needs a wheelchair to play the OF, the other is a pitcher missing a ligament in his elbow.

I fucking despise this trade  

Will Fowler's wheelchair also be included? 

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Damn. They're trying to hex us. 

Shocker: Yankee owned media and dependent news outlets pronounce Yankees as winners of trade

Wow. Didn't see this coming: The Yankee courtier press absolutely loves the trade for Sonny Gray!

We can die now

Instant analysis: (Don't hold me to this later; I'll deny it.) 

We do have a stacked future outfield - (we kept Estevan Florial) - though it really sucks that Dustin Fowler will never have even gotten one at-bat as a Yankee.

We will regret trading Jorge Mateo. You can't teach speed. 

Kaprielian? Damn. I had just finally learned to spell his name with two i's. 

I didn't think you could trade injured players. Wasn't there a rule about that? Or at least a gentlemen's agreement? 

Sonny Gray had better be good. We gave up a lot. In the long run, Oakland will be very happy with this haul. 

So now what do we do with Jaime Garcia?

A message to Brian Cashman and the Tijuana Brass

So much for that call to Cooperstown

Back in the salad '70s, Pete Rose got caught with a 15-year-old, says ESPN.  

I was starting to feel sorry for the guy.

Ask Not For Whom The Bell Tolls.....

....it tolls for Yankee fans.

Today, we learn that Cashman deceived us.

He teased us with a fake strategy.

He acted as though the talent we finally amassed in our farm system ( largely through trades last summer ) mattered.  That we would re-build ( like every other successful franchise ) with youth.  We would take our lumps in 2017, but this would pay off big time for the future.

He got lucky on Judge, and maybe Frazier.  We began to believe.

But, as it happens, to Cashman everyone else is just meat for the grinder.  Dog food to attract mid-level talent that will get us nowhere.

Isn't Todd Frazier still hitting about .209?

Has anyone outside of Edina,  Minnesota, even heard of the pitcher we just acquired?    Who can name him without looking up the deal somewhere?

Cashman is now employing the exact same strategy he has always used.  The team hasn't been relevant for 10 years but, today, we roll the dice on getting enough mid-level talent to nudge this train into the one game playoff station.

Who cares?

Cashman lured us into believing he had learned something after 10 years of beating his head against the same wall.

He has learned exactly zero.  And we shall pay the price today.

Next season, Mason Williams will be our top trade prospect, and our " farm system" will be ranked at the far end of the top 30.

You can't trust a toad.

Nothing has changed.  Start the lies.

Waiting for the cruel shoes to drop

Two more Yankee prospects vanished yesterday. So long, Dietrich Enns and Zack Littell. That's five gone in the last two weeks. The youth movement is officially over. Today, we'll probably jettison three more - maybe four. Our list of top 30 prospects now includes Cody Carroll, a 24-year-old middle innings reliever in Trenton. (Let that sink in: twenty-four, middle innings reliever, Double A.) By tomorrow, Cody could be in our top 25! Could Cito Culver be next? 

Oh, fukkit! Who cares! Certainly not the Wall Street Weekender from Westchester (WWW.) And I respect that. The world needs its hedge fund managers to be clearheaded to the task at hand - screwing dumb fuck pensioners - rather than analyzing the starting rotation in Trenton. The world doesn't need another Yankee obsessive - or as the Mooch would call me, "a fucking paranoid schizophrenic, a paranoiac" - blogging about the danger of trading Jorge Mateo. Nope. If the WWW simply knows that there used to be a player named "A-Rod," and he still thinks Derek Jeter is the Yankee shortstop - hey, no problem: That's China Town, Jake! Nobody has to care about the dearth of talent in the Pulaski outfield. And for those divinely uncaring WWWs, tonight's YES Network takeaway will surely be that the Yankees have obtained an all-star pitcher - Sonny Koufax! - in exchange for absolutely nothing. It was a gift from the good people of Oakland, whose franchise was once again outsmarted by that all-wise, big city operation, run by the crafty Hal Steinbrenner, the beacon of front office superiority. 

The Yankee farm system, bursting with talent two weeks ago, will soon return to the norm: Scranton again full of 26-year-old utility candidates. (FYI: Cito Culver homered last night!) Trenton will once again be the home of Chris Christie rather than Jorge Mateo. The Yankees will either win everything this fall - (actually, there are teams in Houston, Cleveland, Los Angeles and Washington that might have a say in this) - justifying the trades, or we will have pitched overboard our youth movement for - well, a one game wild card appearance? We may never see Billy McKinney or Justis Sheffield or Chance Adams, at least not in Yankee uniforms. And what happens over the next three months will still depend entirely on injuries and slumps; Aaron Judge, Jordan Montgomery and Clint Frazier are still defining themselves, and somewhere out there, a tweaked gonad is waiting for us. It's the long game that really matters, and in the last few days, we quit playing it. The WWWs don't know, and they don't give a shit. Only fools that the Mooch would fire - idiots, like us - would ever bother to be concerned about 2019.

The way to build dynasties is to be like the New England Patriots, who are always stashing extra draft picks, always supplementing a core of stars with emerging young talent. This year, we began that way. We developed Aaron Judge, Jordan Montgomery, Luis Severino, Aaron Hicks and maybe Clint Frazier. (But Greg Bird, Tyler Austin and a bunch of young pitchers - Kaprielian, Heller, Gallegos, et al - went south.) Next year, we will see - hmmm - well, lemme get back to you on that. Next year, we may be watching ex-Yankees on the White Sox, Twins and A's, and we'll be thinking of how we had Todd Frazier, David Robertson and Jaime Garcia. Next year, we can watch other teams unveil talent, while Culver dazzles us with his newfound stroke. As for the Wall Street Weekenders from Westchester? Well, there will always be more prospects to trade for established stars, you know - more Todds and Jaimes. Todds and Jaimes. Todds and Jaimes. Todds and Jaimes... I guess that sums it up.

I happen to believe that by trying to win everything now, right now, we piss away the chance to build a dynasty down the road. Wasn't that's what the Yankees were supposed to do... back before we sold our souls to the weekenders from Westchester? Oh, forget it. Nobody listens to a paranoiac. 

Blast from the past: Jesse Barfield rescues Suzyn Waldman

Hap tit to Leinstery. 

Somebody special was quoted in the New York Times today

Link

After 31 years of work, Suzyn Waldman, the longtime Yankees announcer, still regularly encounters people who doubt her knowledge and sometimes express that viciously.

“There is not an 18-year-old intern or an engineer that does not think he knows more than I do about the game,” she told me. “They don’t.”