The Yankees' BIG TWO is not what we expected. It's much better.

Last night, the Yankees rolled behind their BIG TWO, a phrase that traditionally stands for Judge & Gio. 

Or, last year, you could say Judge & Cody, or Jazz "50-50." Or, if you were into longshots, the Martian, or Goldy, or even Grish the Swish.  

Nope. None of the above. The Yankees' BIG TWO now includes Ben "Original" Rice, of Cohasset, Massachusetts - who grew up as an outcast, rooting for Derek Jeter, who the Yankees selected as a catcher in the 12th round of the 2021 draft, who has a degree in Psychology from Dartmouth, and who in 2024 became the first Yankee rookie in history to hit three HRs in a game. (A feat since duplicated by Jasson Dominguez.)  

Over the last two weeks, the Yankees have accomplished something exceedingly rare: They won eight straight without being carried by Aaron Judge.

Entering last night, when he went 3-for-3 with 2 HRs, Judge had been in a flailing, floundering, 6-for-30 funk. A bunch of bases-loaded Ks. He was a hole in the lineup, yet the Yankees kept winning. 

Actually, there was no mystery to it. They had Rice, plus two sluggish opponents, the Royals and Redsocks. 

Rice - see the chart - is on a pace he almost certainly cannot sustain. Barring injuries, he will probably hit 30some HRs and bat - well -.290? If so, he would be the all-star 1B, an MVP candidate and potentially a lifelong Yankee. He's 27. If he can string together a few big seasons, it's a chip shot to Monument Park and/or the YES broadcast booth. Within the Yankiverse, he has no ceiling. 

But there are no guarantees. For example, consider last year's Rice.

I'm referring to Grisham, whose decision to accept a $22.5 million qualifying offer set into motion the Yankee plan to stand pat over the winter. Once Grisham chose to stay - foregoing his chance at a long-term contract - it was a done deal that Dominguez would play in Scranton until somebody - cue Giancarlo - tweaked something.  

Well, Giancarlo has tweaked, the Martian's been called-up (1-for-4 last night) and Grisham is lost. Last night, he went 1-4, boosting his average to - dear God - .165. I'm not making this up. One-sixty-five. Last April, he was the hottest bat in the AL. This year, sinking without a bubble.  

It's too early to sound the sirens or plan the parade. But the Yankees have been winning without Judge, and now -dare we dream? - maybe he'll get hot. (Jacob deGrom and Nathan Eovaldi may have something to say about that.) Win tonight, and we clinch the AL East for the month of April. One sixth of the season will be over. But we'll be riding high, thanks to the BIG TWO.

Hal is a Genius – Hal is a Genius – Hal is a . . . . . .

 game thread

We're about to find out the truth about the 2026 Yankees (and, maybe, the Martian, as well.)

 

In recent years, the pinstriped shock troopers of Brian Cashman and Aaron Boone - assembled through the House of Hal - have generally adhered to a strict Yankee Code of Conduct. And I'm not referring to facial hair. 

What they do is run hot & cold, up & down, in & out, back & forth, nip & tuck, higgety-piggety, waggity-paggity, Bob's yer uncle! sit on it, Potsy! that's China Town, Jake! 

They follow every win streak with a libido-devouring string of losses, a market correction that saps hope from Yankee fans, like Lucy trying to stay afloat on an assembly line of chocolates.  

It's simple: With the Yankees, what goes up must come down.

Last year, beginning May 14, they won 11 of 13 games and looked unbeatable.

Then, on June 7, shortly after the hot spell ended, they lost 5 of 8. 

In July, they mingled a losing streak of six with a winning streak of five.  

Hot and cold. So went the 2025 Yankees.

Now, following yesterday's loss - their first in 9 games - we shall learn the truth about 2026. 

Do we launch a new win streak? Or piss away what we gained?

This happens as we encounter another annual event: the return of Giancarlo Stanton, the Glass Giant, to his rightful perch on the Injured List. Nobody is surprised. He was always fated to end up there, sooner or later. What's different, though, is his replacement. Instead of some veteran Triple A lug nut, we're turning to the Martian, Jasson Dominguez. 

So... what will we find? Can he hit lefties? Can he play the outfield? We'll soon know. If yes, we could be entering a new phase in Yankee history. Or we could be back in the REPEAT cycle. (Though we'll always have Boston. Hats off to you, Varitek.) 

That's Entertainment!

As I commented during yesterday's game, Gil was pitching himself out of the rotation. Not that that was a brilliant prediction by any means, but here we are. Faster than I thought, really.

As many people here predicted, the Glass Giant is now on the IL. He'll be back. In the meantime, the Martian has landed. He was having a nice year in AAA. Hope it continues. Hope he actually gets to play. Smells like a DH at this point.

Boone, you idiot, do NOT platoon the kid. Like Rice, he will hit either species of pitcher if you give him a fucking chance.

Happy Monday!

My Little Game Thread – 04º26º26 (they say that fish can breath under water)

"INQUIRING MINDS WANNA KNOW"

 

WE WILL NEVER, EVER LOSE AGAIN!!

 

Just a quick reminder, before the real game thread.

Damn. This time, the Yankees really did a number on Boston

We'll always have last night.

For the rest of our lives, we'll link Satan's evil pig roast shoot-up with Boston's trashing of Alex Cora.

As everybody knows by now, a shirtless Californian attacked Washington's Dark Ball, prompting the Secret Service to swarm, the TV news foreheads to pee themselves, and Trump to demand a new ballroom. This came just hours after Cora and his coaches - (Suck on it, Jason Varitek) - were bottled up and set out with the Japanese tide - and a day after the Yankees burned Fenway to the ground, metaphorically.  

So... long haul, will either matter?

The Yankees are riding an 8-game win streak. Thus far in this rotten millennium, they generally follow Newton's Third Law of Motion: An object in motion creates an equal force in the opposite direction. Thus, they'll soon lose eight straight. 

It can happen. After today, the Yankees face the Rangers, Orioles and Brewers. Could they fall apart? Of course.  

But but BUT... Damn... We haven't seen many moments like last night. 

This time, the Yankees drew blood. Reporting the news to their radio audience, Dave Sims and Suzyn Waldman didn't try to hide their joy. Suzyn, cackling, noted that it wasn't Cora who traded Mookie Betts and Rafael Devers. Sims invoked the "S" word: Scapegoat. I haven't heard an elderly couple laugh so heartily since Arthur Treacher waved his fish stick at Merv Griffin. 

All of which leaves Boston in a youth movement that doesn't seem to be moving.  

Baltimore knows the feeling. Its former No. 1 prospect in baseball - Jackson Holliday, now 22 - is reporting pains in his hand in a rehab that has suffered several setbacks. What if it limits him? In the World Baseball Classic, Boston's Roman Anthony was hailed as MLB's next big thing. What if he's not? 

(By the way, The Martian also inhabited this rarified air. As did Anthony Volpe.)

I know, I know... I'm assigning too much meaning here. But... DAMN! We got to them! We screwed them! 

Cora will rebound. He'll get a job. And for the rest of his career, whenever his team plays Boston, his players will be leaping from the rafters.   

An 8-game lead? Pttuui. It can vanish in three weeks. But... DAMN! This was different. This time, we drew blood.

Once upon a time, there was a good man named Cora...

 

Phil Rizzuto called him "Little Joey Cora," an honorific from one small guy who could bunt to another.

Oddly, Rizzuto also married a woman named Cora, but we are not here to psychoanalyze Ceasar, we are here to bury that other Cora.

Alex Cora looks like a weasel and, at the very least in 2017, acted like one. The Asstros stole the year from the Yankees. Everyone says so and you can bet your third imaginary assassination attempt it's true.

After that heinous, trashcan-banging year, the Red Sox hired him twice. TWICE. With only a brief pause to let the worst of the press coverage die away.

This tells you everything you need to know about the Red Sox organization. About their fans. About their charming, whiny, third-tier city, which unfortunately was not buried during the Big Dig, wasting a once-in-forever golden opportunity.

Alex Cora will no doubt swim around in the wading pool for a while, but some other amoral, godless organization will probably hire him down the road a piece. Off the top of my head, that would mean LA, but they don't need a weasel, they have an inexhaustible barrel of Hollywood stage money.

FOX always needs a new weasel, so there's that possibility. ESPN has a fine track record in that regard, also.

Let's see where the perpetually unshaven shifty bastard ends up.

WE WILL NEVER LOSE AGAIN!!!

 

"And though we choose between reality and madness

It's either sadness or euphoria..."

Or, you know, we could follow the New York Knicks.

Personally, I'll take euphoria. But even knowing, as a longtime fan of the New York Yankees, how likely it is to end very soon, a win is a win is a win is a win is a win is a win is a win.

I'm not even discouraged by the injury to Stanton which, as our Peerless Leader writes, is likely to keep him out of the lineup for weeks, not days. Counting on Stanton not being injured (for the first time since 2017) is something that only a sad, naïve child would do—someone like Brian Cashman.

As to who should replace him, well, Anthony Volpe is coming, as surely as summer turns into fall, and fall into nuclear winter. If that means that Ryan McMahon gets pushed to the bench—with Rosario/Caballero taking over third—it might even be an improvement.

But apart from that, I'm all with sandman.  Yes, bring up the "wrong-handed" Triple-A bats, Spencer and The Martian. Courteously give Paul Goldschmidt his walking papers, too, along with a laurel and hardy handshake. Bring up all those hard-throwing kids for the pen.

The pillars of the earth are shaking loose, within baseball and without. Time to get one more before it's too late, baby.

True colors?

For years, I could watch Quick Pitch and immediately identify the teams being featured. Now, it can take a while. Yes, okay, I'm getting pretty old, but MLB teams aren't exactly helping.

I realize that I'm spoiled by 50 years or so of fandom when team uniforms came in two varieties: home and road. But that's gone way by the boards.

Last night, the White Sox--"white" being the key there--were decked out in deep red and black. Nice contrast. I'd think the Black Sox reference might come into play in making this choice, but guess not. It's been over 100 years, nobody under 40 knows.

The KC Royals, famous for their powder blue uniforms (as to whether or not that was origninally a good choice is not up to me)? White. 

I see a jersey and I want to paint it black...

I think the Mets have taken to black or very dark blue jerseys for a while now. It still throws me for a nanosecond or two.

The Miami Marlins, they of tropicala and joyous sunshine color bombs? Black. Yuck.

Cincinnatti, being the Reds, wore black.

The Orioles, it turns out, are in Bmore, not Baltimore, proudly displayed against a white background on a jersey with green sleeves. They did sneak in some traditional orange here and there.

The Blue Jays may be blue because of the way they're losing, but the jerseys are black. Death metal? Suicidal?

The Twins were twins with a lot of other teams last night, wearing black.

The Braves wore red, but not a pure red. More of an orangey, "warm red." A bit like the Agfa logo.

Washington? Blue. If only.

And black for Pittsburgh, possibly due to the heavy soot from all those steel factories (that don't exist anymore).

I don't think any of these involved City Connect but I'm not sure about Bmore. Once those get cranked up, I'll have to deal with really stupid and really ugly along with unfamiliar.

My golden years aren't gold, either. Guess that's the way things are going.

Everything was fine... so Giancarlo tweaked something.

Everybody knew this would happen. 

Giancarlo Stanton was taking extra bases. He was sliding, dancing off first, chugging around the paths, even stealing a base. (He had one this year - his 43rd over 17 seasons.) A fuse was gonna blow, a hatchway was gonna burst. The Edmund Fitzgerald of Designated Hitters was going to sink. And everybody knew.

They're listing him as "day to day." This is bullshit, of course. He'll be out four weeks. Maybe six. He's Giancarlo Stanton. There's no such thing as day-to-day. There's week-to-week, maybe month-to-month.

Damn. Right in a 7-game winning streak. Third best record in baseball...

Because Stanton bats RH, it won't free up The Martian or Spencer Jones, or much of anybody down in Scranton. For now, the best RH remedy might be Paul DeJong, a 32-year-old utility IF, who is hitting .193 with 5 HRs. Yeesh. Is Pronk Hafner still playing?

Wait. There is another name. I hesitate to say it. Anthony Volpe. He's four games into a minor league rehab assignment. Too small a sample size to matter, but he did hit a homer the other day. If Volpe takes over, maybe we get a month to see - once and for all - whether he can hit MLB pitching. Does the prodigal son of New Jersey have a month in him? 

Game Thread – Coming up a little short in Houston – 04•24•26

 SEE WHAT I DID THERE . . .  (you may need your glasses)

Suzyn Waldman: "Can I just say, this pitching and defense thing for the Red Sox is not working out."

— Richard M. Nixon (@dicknixon.bsky.social) April 23, 2026 at 8:14 PM

Cam F---n Schlittler could become the first Redsock Killer of the post -Bambino Curse era

6th best ERA in baseball

 As you know, this site - this oasis of unadulterated truth porn - is THE LAST PLACE ON THE INTERNET to find hyperbole. 

Nope. We simply do not allow it. In daily discourses, our trained baseball technicians sift through continents of data, moving at the measured pace of Melania trying on shoes. 

Thus, we shall not over-sell the current situation regarding Cam Schlittler and his former home, the vacated city of Boston. 

Last night, despite a leaky defense, Schlittler shut down the Redsocks in Fenway, before a hateful crowd that yelled its greatest taunts and gravest threats, doing everything to disrupt him but eat raw pigeons. He pitched eight great innings, handling Boston, as he did last October. Already, the mere sound of his name sends shivers down the spines of Redsock fans who are still debating the Verdugo trade.

But but BUT... Schlittler is not atop the TOP TEN YANKEE LIST OF REDSOCK KILLERS. Here is the current ranking.

1. Babe Ruth. (Duh.)

2. Mariano Rivera. (58 career saves, 0.92 postseason ERA v Boston, despite - um - one game...)

3. Andy Pettitte (career 21-10 v Boston.)

4. Jack Chesboro (Between 1903-1906)

5. Ron Guidry. (career 14-7, pitched the Bucky Dent game)

6. Mike Mussina (Came within one out, Carl Everett, of perfect game v Boston. Also threw three huge innings of relief - first of his career - in the Aaron Boone game.) 

7. Allie Reynolds. (No-hit them)

8. Goose Gossage (saved the Dent game)

9. Thad Tillotson (In 1967, after two straight brushbacks, he beaned a Redsock, creating havoc.)

10 Schlittler. (In progress.)

Schlittler has already bypassed Roger Clemens, Luis Tiant and David Cone, who played for both. There can be debate on Whitey Ford, Dave Righetti and - personal fave - Ramiro Mendoza. 

Cam Schlittler could soon become "Cam Fucking Schlittler" the most dreaded name in the Boston lexicon. It's too early to enshrine him, but damn... you can't be heaping too much pressure when the guy to beat is Thad Tillotson, right?

04º23º26 – Back from the Packie in time for a Pissah of some Wicked Schlitt !

 

Cam Schlittler is learning the ugly truth about Boston. He must not let it consume him.

Tonight, the Yankees can - for now anyway - put to rest...

1. Critics who questioned returning the 2025 team.

2. Fears about 3B, the bullpen and the rotation.

3. Concerns about the Martian. (Last night, in Scranton, he went 1-for-4 with two Ks.) 

4. Those who proclaimed the Mets to be NY's team. 

5. The month of April. 

That's the problem. April. Tonight, no matter what gives, the Yankees cannot touch May. Nor can they bury Boston. 

Sorry. It's just April. Even a win tonight - a sweep in Fenway that would build a 7-game bulge - it's a Melania fart on the East Lawn. When the Yankees and Redsocks play again - June - Taylor and Travis will be nearing their wedding, gas will cost $20 per gallon, the Knicks will be done, the midterms will be upon us, the aliens will have revealed themselves to humanity, and we'll know the truth about Cam Schlitter: 

Tonight, the Yankees will learn a lot. Schlittler's return to the Boston area, where he grew up, has brought out the worst of the Redsock Nation - a veritable zombie apocalypse of knuckle-dragging wildings. Not since Roger Clemens returned to Fenway, fostering a hysteria that terrified his wife and family, has Boston's frat boy fan base been so defined by its nutjobs. 

Yank fans like to think we are the craziest - the Chambliss HR, the nails on Ed Whitson's driveway, the drunken singing of "New York, New York" - but let's give credit: Boston has always had a special sauce. The security guard who fought Jeff Nelson. The guy who took punched Gary Sheffield. Just last night, down 4-0 in the 9th, the Fenway crowd several times chanted "YANKEES SUCK." God bless 'em. 

And now, death threats against Schlittler. Death threats.

Congratulations, you obese, odorific, developmentally challenged, lost-cause sickos. Bravo! Somehow, you managed to lower expectations of basic humanity, which were already so deep into the sewers of crazy, that nobody cared what you think or do. So, you made death threats. Great. Get comfy on the rat couch. Eat another bag of chips.

Tonight, Schlittler can make Boston pay. Or not. We should not add any stress to what already is a pressurized situation. Whenever pundits predict a Yankee-Redsock pitchers' duel, the bats go wild. Boston has scored one run in 18 innings. They won't stay quiet forever. 

It would be wonderful if Schlittler can make them eat their own crapola. But it's a long season, it's still just April, and whomever rules in September - that will be the outcome that matters. April is too early to sweat - or heap any more pressure on Schlittler. 

A shutout will do. A no-hitter would be nice. That's all.

Game Thread – 04/22/26 – Start Spreading the. . . uh . . . like, you know, uhm . . .

 

The awful truth! Mets cursed by being...the Mets!

 

Breaking news! Mets cursed by The Cocoanuts!

                                            THE CURSE OF COCOANUTS

This wholly invented: Mets cursed by Florida land development known as The Cocoanuts.

Mets fans were reportedly mollified to hear of this latest turn in the mystery of the team's 12-game losing streak, but still had serious questions concerning a duck.

News flash! Mets cursed by Sollozzo!

                                               THE CURSE OF SOLLOZZO

New revelations from sources not far from the New York Met but not all that close, either, reveal that in fact the team has been cursed by maverick opium importer, Virgil "The Turk" Sollozzo. The Turk, who is known to be very good with a knife, reportedly wants control over "all those umpires Steve Cohen carries around in his pocket like so many nickels and dimes."

New development...Mr. Sollozzo, alleged curse holder over the New York Mets has reportedly been shot dead in a Bronx restaurant, along with an unnamed precinct captain who is known to be a dishonest cop, a crooked cop who got mixed up in the rackets. 

No news yet on the gunman, who was reported fleeing from the restaurant in a pair of bright, sparkling red, "kinky" boots.