JUDGE GAVE THE YANKEES A DECADE. WHAT THE HELL HAVE THEY GIVEN HIM?

Ten years.

That's how long it's been since Aaron Judge arrived in the Bronx and hit his first Major League home run. August 13, 2016. Ten freaking years. Since then, Judge has become an MVP, a home run king, the captain of the New York Yankees and the face of baseball.

You know what he hasn't become? A World Series champion.

And I'm tired of pretending that's just bad luck. At some point, somebody needs to point the finger where it belongs: Brian Cashman, the Yankees front office and Aaron Boone.

Judge has given this organization everything. The Yankees have given him excuses.

Every year we're sold another version of the same garbage. The roster is talented. The underlying numbers are encouraging. Boone has a terrific winning percentage. Cashman believes in the process. Who gives a shit? Where are the championships?

This is the Yankees. Nobody hangs a banner for "pretty good regular season." Nobody walks through Monument Park reminiscing about Aaron Boone's winning percentage.

And please spare me the Boone defense. I've watched enough.

When the game gets tight, Boone gets exposed. When October demands instinct instead of a spreadsheet, we're treated to another pitching change that makes you scratch your head, another lineup decision nobody understands, another moment where Boone looks like he's managing the seventh game of spring training instead of the seventh game of a World Series.

Yet somehow, he's still here. Year after year. That's the part that drives me insane. How much evidence does this organization need? Judge isn't some prospect anymore. He's 34 years old. The clock isn't ticking quietly anymore. It's banging on the damn wall.

The Yankees were handed something most franchises would kill for: a generational superstar who wanted to be a Yankee, became captain and embraced everything that comes with playing in New York.

And they've managed to surround his prime with zero championships. That's organizational failure, sorry, it is. Yes, players need to perform in October. Judge included. Nobody gets a free pass.

But Brian Cashman has been responsible for constructing these teams. Aaron Boone has been responsible for managing them. And when the ending keeps looking familiar, eventually you stop blaming coincidence. You blame the people running the show. That's where I am.

I don't care how many regular-season games Boone has won. I don't care how many times Cashman explains how difficult winning a championship is. We know it's difficult. That's why you're paid to freaking do it. The Yankees used to measure seasons in championships. Somewhere along the way, this organization started measuring success in playoff appearances, winning records and organizational self-congratulation.

That's not Yankee baseball. That's corporate spin. And here's the scary part: They're running out of Aaron Judge. There aren't another ten prime years coming.

Keep Boone. Keep Cashman. Keep running back the same philosophy and hoping October magically ends differently. But don't act shocked someday when Judge retires, they put No. 99 in Monument Park and everybody suddenly realizes what happened. The Yankees had one of the greatest players of his generation. They had him for years. They had the money. They had the resources. They had the opportunity. And they pissed away his championship window.

Aaron Judge deserves his ring.

The question isn't whether he's done enough for the Yankees. It's whether the Yankees have done nearly enough for Aaron Judge. Right now?

Not even freaking close.

YANKEES WAKE UP LATE TO LOSE THE SERIES

If Gerrit Cole was looking to set the tone Sunday, he certainly did. Unfortunately, it was the wrong one.

Cole opened the game by serving up back-to-back-to-back home runs to Fernando Tatis Jr., Jake Cronenworth and Manny Machado. Three batters. Three bombs. Welcome to the ballgame.

To Cole's credit, he settled down and gave the Yankees seven innings, but when you're chasing the game from the opening minutes, you're playing with fire.

The Yankees eventually woke up. Spencer Jones ripped an RBI double in the eighth, and Amed Rosario helped turn some Padres sloppiness into two more runs. Suddenly, it was 4-3 and the Yankees had a pulse.

George Lombard Jr. doubled, too, and once again the kids showed some fight. That's encouraging.

But encouraging doesn't win divisions.

The Yankees lost 4-3, dropped two of three in San Diego and now head home four games behind Tampa Bay.

September is here. The excuses are gone.

Time to stop chasing games and start winning them.

YANKEES PUNCH BACK IN SAN DIEGO

Every once in a while, the Yankees play a game that doesn't require blood-pressure medication.

Saturday was one of them.

The Yankees bounced back from Friday's brutal extra-inning loss and handled the Padres, 5-1, at Petco Park, evening the series and setting up a pretty important Sunday rubber match.

The fun started in the second inning when Spencer Jones — playing near where he grew up — ripped an RBI double into the right-field corner to get the Yankees rolling. And I continue to like what I'm seeing from this kid.

Then San Diego starter Robbie Ray temporarily forgot that throwing strikes is generally part of the job. The Yankees actually did something we've begged them to do for years: they stayed patient.

Walks piled up, Paul Goldschmidt drew a bases-loaded free pass, and Cody Bellinger eventually made Ray pay with a two-run single. Just like that, it was 4-0. George Lombard Jr. added a sacrifice fly in the third and the Yankees had five runs without hitting a home run.

Imagine that. Actual baseball.

Ben Rice was terrific, going 3-for-3 with two walks and reaching base all five times. That's called being a pain in the ass, and every good lineup needs one.

Carlos Rodón took care of the rest. He gave the Yankees five innings, struck out seven and allowed only two hits and one run — a Manny Machado solo homer. The bullpen slammed the door from there as San Diego managed just three hits all night.

So now it's simple.

The Yankees took the punch Friday night, got off the mat Saturday and punched back.

Now win the damn series.

WHY ARE WE FORCING VOLPE ON THE NEW YORK YANKEES?

Apparently, Anthony Volpe is Barry Bonds now.

Wonderful.

Alert Cooperstown. Somebody get the plaque ready. Jasson Dominguez says Volpe has “become Barry Bonds” down in Triple-A, and while I understand a teammate pumping up another teammate, can we please come back to planet Earth for five freaking minutes?

Barry Bonds? Anthony Volpe has five homers in his last five games in Scranton. That's terrific.

Barry Bonds hit 762 home runs in the major leagues.

Small difference.

And before everybody starts screaming that I'm picking on poor Anthony again, understand something: I'm actually happy Volpe is hitting. Since being sent down, he's put up good numbers — .299/.393/.701 with 10 homers over 97 plate appearances.

Bravo. Seriously. Now leave him the hell down there.

Why is that controversial?

We've spent three years watching the Yankees try to hammer a square peg into a round hole while insisting that if they just hammer hard enough, eventually we're all going to see the superstar they promised us.

I'm tired. How many Anthony Volpe auditions does one organization get? He struggled. We waited. He struggled some more. We waited some more.

More adjustments. More patience. More Aaron Boone speeches about how Anthony is “really close.” Close to what?

Because apparently he's finally arrived — in Scranton. Maybe this isn't a comeback story. Maybe it's a discovery. Maybe we've finally located Anthony Volpe's natural habitat.

Triple-A.

Mean? Not really. This is reality. It's the article you will not read anywhere else. Sometimes honesty needs to peak through the looniness of this entire story.  Perhaps we've learned something incredibly important here.

When the lights aren't as bright, when Yankee Stadium isn't packed, when the New York media isn't hovering and when 40,000 people aren't wondering why you just chased another slider off the plate...

Anthony Volpe can rake. Great. Unfortunately, Yankee Stadium isn't moving to Scranton. The Bronx doesn't come with training wheels. Maybe New York is simply too damn big for Anthony Volpe.

It happens. Some guys walk into Yankee Stadium and become bigger. Other guys get swallowed by it. Maybe Volpe needs Miami or Kansas City. Seriously.

Send him somewhere he can play second base on a Tuesday night without every at-bat becoming a referendum on whether he's the next Derek Jeter. Let him breathe. Let him play. Let him figure himself out somewhere that doesn't require him to carry Yankee expectations around like a refrigerator strapped to his back.

Because I already know what's coming. September. Expanded rosters. Volpe keeps hitting bombs in Scranton. And somewhere inside Yankee Stadium, Aaron Boone starts getting that look in his eye. You know the look. His boy toy is hitting again. And Boone is going to want his boy toy back.

“Anthony's in a really good place right now.”

Oh, Jesus Christ. Here we go again. Boone's crush is coming home. Then we'll get the press conference.

“He's worked really hard. He's made some adjustments. We really like where he's at. He's impacting the baseball.”

Maybe Boone will even tell us he's been “elite.” They love that word over there. And before Volpe's Scranton apartment has even cooled off, Volpe will be back in the Bronx and we'll begin another exciting season of Everybody Pretend Anthony Volpe Has Finally Figured It Out.

Why?

Leave. Him. Down. There.

For once, let the kid actually develop. If he's finally comfortable, let him stay comfortable. Give him 200 more plate appearances. Give him 300. Hell call him Scranton's Captain for crying out loud!

Let him destroy Triple-A pitching until the International League files a restraining order.

There is absolutely no rule saying that because Anthony Volpe gets hot in Scranton, the Yankees must immediately drag him back to New York to see whether he can find a brand-new way to disappoint everybody.

Meanwhile, George Lombard Jr. is here and he's better anyway. So play him! Stop treating the Yankees' major-league roster like Boone's boy toy has a lifetime membership.

And please stop pretending Triple-A success means the Yankees were right about Volpe all along.

Maybe the scouts weren't completely wrong about Anthony Volpe. Maybe they just had the wrong league... on the smaller stage, without the suffocating pressure and expectations of New York, Anthony Volpe really can be a star.

Beautiful.

Then let him be the Babe Ruth of Scranton. Let him hit 40... 60.

I'll send flowers.

But until Anthony Volpe proves he can consistently hit major-league pitching, spare me the Barry Bonds comparisons. Barry Bonds terrorized major-league pitchers.

Anthony Volpe is currently terrorizing Triple-A.

Pump the freaking breaks, Jasson.

This one's for you Boh.

NEVER ROOT FOR AN INJURY… BUT SOMETIMES YOU THINK IT

You never want to see a player get hurt. Ever. Let me get that out of the way before somebody comes after me with a pitchfork.

Trent Grisham is headed to the 10-day IL with a right hamstring strain, and the Yankees have recalled Jasson Dominguez from Triple-A.

That's bad news for Grisham.

But for the Yankees?

Forgive me... maybe not.

Because suddenly Aaron Boone doesn't have to perform advanced calculus trying to figure out how to squeeze everyone into the outfield. Spencer Jones has been earning his playing time, and with Grisham down, Jones should get a legitimate opportunity in center. Meanwhile, Dominguez is back, and perhaps—crazy concept here—the Yankees can actually find out what these young guys can do by playing them.

Jones has already shown flashes that scream, Don't send me anywhere. And Dominguez? I've been waiting forever for the Yankees to stop treating "The Martian" like he's classified government property.

Grisham hadn't exactly been forcing the issue lately, either. He was just 4-for-44 over his previous 14 games before landing on the IL.

So no, I'm not celebrating an injury. I hope Grisham heals quickly.

But baseball has a funny way of making decisions for organizations that refuse to make them themselves.

The Yankees have young outfielders who need at-bats. Spencer Jones needs to play. Jasson Dominguez deserves another look.

Now they have their chance.

Sometimes opportunity knocks.

Sometimes it grabs its hamstring.

Forgive me.

THE YANKEES WASTE MAX FRIED'S START

The Yankees wasted one Friday night. And in September, those are the ones that hurt.

Max Fried gave them 5 2/3 innings of one-run baseball. Ben Rice launched a 444-foot homer. Then Spencer Jones delivered the big moment, ripping a go-ahead RBI single off Mason Miller in the 10th. The kid stared down one of baseball's nastiest relievers and delivered.

And the Yankees still lost, 3-2.

Paul Blackburn surrendered a two-run walk-off homer to Luis Campusano in the bottom of the 10th, wasting Fried's performance and Jones' heroics. Worse, Tampa Bay won, pushing the Yankees four games back in the AL East.

This is September. These games matter.

And this is where Aaron Boone continues to worry me. Managing isn't just keeping everybody happy for 162 games. When the pressure rises, somebody has to push the right buttons. Boone has had years to prove he's that guy.

I'm still waiting.

Fried deserved better. Jones deserved better.

October won't care about excuses.

CAM SHOVES AS YANKEES TAKE THE SERIES

The Yankees beat the Angels 6–3 in 10 innings Wednesday night, taking the series and escaping Anaheim with another important win.

Cam Schlittler was magnificent. Eight innings. Two hits. One run. Nine strikeouts. No walks. He retired 20 of the first 21 hitters he faced and lowered his American League-leading ERA to 2.04. Schlittler didn’t merely give the Yankees a chance—he carried them until the offense finally woke up. The kid is becoming a great major-league pitcher right before our eyes.

Then came the 10th inning. With two outs and the bases loaded, Austin Wells slapped a two-run single into right field to break the tie. Cody Bellinger, Trent Grisham and Ben Rice followed with RBI singles as the Yankees hung a five-spot on the Angels.

Tip your cap to Wells. It was a clutch hit in a big moment. But let’s keep the parade under control. Wells is still batting an awful, horrendous .190. One big hit doesn’t suddenly turn him into Jorge Posada or Thurman Munson. Those were championship catchers who produced when it mattered over entire seasons—not once every few weeks.

Celebrate the hit. Praise the moment. Just don’t confuse one clutch swing with greatness. Write that down.

This game belonged to Cam Schlittler. That’s a series win. Pack the bags and keep moving.

AARON JUDGE IS CLOSE TO A RETURN - BUT IS HE READY?

It's September so when we think about how Aaron Judge has been out since May 31st, it feels like a freaking lifetime ago. In baseball, three months is a lifetime. The clock is ticking on the regular season though, so there's not much time left if Judge is going to make it back for the playoffs.

If the rumor mill is true, Judge might be gearing up for a return very soon read more HERE. I hope it's true. Judge did travel with the team and he is ramping up his baseball activities as he works his way back from a right rib injury. Aaron Boone estimates that Judge could be back in action when the Yankees kick off a homestand against the Colorado Rockies on September 8th.

I hope he is ready to come back. Rib injuries are no joke and this isn't the first one he's ever had. The difference now is he's 34 and not the younger spring chicken he was when he experienced it back in 2019. He's on the other side of 30, and in baseball that's when everything slows down including your abilities and recovery time from injuries. Oh and, not for nothin, I don't trust the Yankees trainers or medical staff one bit. They suck. It's not the first time we've ranted about this.

There's one thing we all know about Judge. He wants to play, he's not okay sitting out and it's the end of the season so he is hungrier than ever. He's going to do or say whatever he has to so he can get back on that field. I love his spirit and drive in that respect, but it also makes me cringe because he's also the guy that is going to go balls out and play through anything and everything. If he's not 100% he's still going to tell you he is and play through any injury or setback. It's what makes him great. It's what makes him a leader. It's what makes him the most respected guy in the whole damn organization.

So, I just want him to be okay. I don't want him to dive on that ball in the outfield and injure his rib again or god forbid something else. He is the heartbeat of this team and getting him back could be the spark that we've been missing. This team looks VERY different when Judge is not on that field and in the lineup.

Fingers crossed that in less than a week Judge is back on the field and he is ready for action. We need him!

--Jeana Bellezza-Ochoa

BYB Senior Managing Editor

Twitter: @nyprincessj

SPENCER JONES IS STARTING TO LOOK LIKE A YANKEE

Well, look at that. The Yankees remembered they're the Yankees.

Twenty-four hours after getting their doors blown off by the Angels, New York showed up Tuesday night, collected 14 hits and walked away with a 7-3 win. Gerrit Cole battled, Jazz Chisholm Jr. homered, Cody Bellinger had three hits and the bullpen shut the door.

But let's get to the good stuff.

Spencer freaking Jones. I love this.

Jones went 2-for-3 with a homer, three RBIs, two walks, two runs and a stolen base. The home run was his second in two nights.

Remember when the conversation was whether this gigantic human being could actually make enough contact in the majors? Yeah. About that. Jones isn't just showing up anymore. He's starting to look comfortable. There's a swagger developing. There's patience. There's power. And when this dude connects, baseballs start reconsidering their career choices.

Best of all, he's becoming a problem for opposing pitchers instead of a Yankee “project” we're told to patiently wait six years for.

That's refreshing. Jones launched a two-run bomb in the first, Jazz followed immediately with another homer, and suddenly Gerrit Cole was handed a 3-0 lead before he even threw a pitch. Later, when the Yankees needed another run in the ninth, Jones knocked that one in too.

That's what I want from the kids. Don't tell me about exit velocity projections for 2028.

Show me.

Spencer Jones is showing us. He's not a finished product. He's going to strike out. He's going to make mistakes. There will be nights when he looks lost.

Who cares? Because we're finally watching a young Yankee come into his own right in front of us, and I'm enjoying every damn second of it.

The Yankees won 7-3. Spencer Jones keeps growing. Play the kid. Get out of his way. 

And enjoy the ride.

I’M A YANKEE FAN, BUT WILL FLEMMING WASN’T WRONG ABOUT JAZZ

I’m a Yankee fan.

Not casually. Not when they’re winning. I’ve been writing Bleeding Yankee Blue since 2010, and if you’ve read this blog for five minutes, you know exactly where my allegiance sits.

But apparently we’ve reached the point in society where being a fan means surrendering your common sense.

Sorry.

I’m not doing it.

Jazz Chisholm stealing second and then third with the Yankees up 7-1 in the eighth inning against the Red Sox was bush league.

There. I said it.

And apparently Will Flemming said it too.

The Red Sox broadcaster watched Jazz swipe two bags with Boston essentially waving the white flag and lost his shit. He called it bush league, said Jazz was playing the game the wrong way and then went too far by talking about drilling Austin Wells and suggesting somebody should fight Jazz.

Was that smart? Hell no. Flemming made the mistake of saying the quiet part out loud. You’re the broadcaster, Will. You have a microphone. Thousands of people are listening. Maybe don't provide the play-by-play for baseball retaliation. That's amateur hour.

But here's where everybody needs to calm the hell down: Flemming wasn't wrong about the baseball. He was wrong about broadcasting what should have stayed unspoken.

There's a difference. And somewhere along the way we've lost the ability to understand that difference. Everything now requires outrage. An apology. A statement. A clarification of the statement. Then an apology for the clarification.

Jesus Christ. Sometimes a guy gets pissed off and says something stupid. Flemming apologized afterward. Fine but he shouldn't have.   

Maybe:

"I shouldn't have said that on the air." Done. Because what exactly are we pretending happened here?

The Yankees were beating Boston 7-1 in the eighth. The Red Sox weren't even holding Jazz on. The game was cooked. Jazz took second. Then he took third.

Was it legal? Absolutely. Was Aaron Boone giving him the green light? Yes, but that's just bad managing. Was it necessary? Give me a break. That's where baseball etiquette comes in.

Not everything that's legal needs to be done. Baseball has always had a language underneath the language.

Guys know. Dugouts know. Managers know. Fans know. You don't need a committee meeting to figure it out. You need a look. A nod. And then you handle your business within the game.

That's what Flemming apparently forgot. Nod and handle it. Every Red Sox player in that dugout should have been thinking exactly what Flemming was thinking. Every one of them. But the Red Sox didn't do a thing and I find that weird. The rivalry is dead. 

Flemming had the microphone and decided to narrate the inner monologue. That's the stupid part. The thought wasn't shocking. Saying it publicly was.

And spare me the pearl-clutching afterward. We have become so terrified of offending somebody that grown adults apparently need emotional bubble wrap every time somebody says something harsh.

This is Yankees-Red Sox. What the hell are we doing? These teams aren't supposed to exchange friendship bracelets. They're supposed to dislike each other. They're supposed to get pissed off. They're supposed to remember things. They're supposed to have some damn pride. That's what made this rivalry great in the first place.

And let's remember something else: Flemming is a Red Sox broadcaster. He's passionate about his team. He watched his club getting embarrassed by its biggest rival and watched Jazz dancing around the bases while it happened.

He reacted. Poorly? Sure. Humanly? Absolutely. Hell, passion is why Bleeding Yankee Blue exists. I didn't start writing this blog because I wanted to carefully workshop every sentence until nobody on planet Earth could possibly be offended.

I started it because I love the Yankees. Sometimes I get pissed. Sometimes fans get pissed. Sometimes broadcasters get pissed. That's sports. We've sanitized enough of society already. We don't need to sanitize Yankees-Red Sox too. And Yankee fans need to be capable of admitting when our guy looks like an ass.

I like Jazz. I love the energy. But stealing two bases up six runs in the eighth inning when the opponent isn't even bothering to hold you?

Come on, Jazz. That's a bitch move. And I don't care if Boone gave him the green light. Boone was wrong too. Being a Yankee fan doesn't require me to pretend everything a Yankee does is wonderful. Baseball deserves more respect than that.

There used to be an understanding in sports that you beat somebody, shake hands and move on. You didn't need to humiliate them just because technically there wasn't a rule preventing you from doing it.

And if somebody crossed that line? The other team remembered.  A nod. Message received. We'll remember.

That my friends is baseball.

So yes, Will Flemming screwed up. He had a microphone in front of his face and forgot that some things in baseball aren't supposed to be broadcast to the world.

Amateur move. But stop pretending the guy committed some unforgivable sin because he got pissed off during Yankees-Red Sox. And stop pretending Jazz didn't know exactly what he was doing.

He did.

The Yankees won 16-1. They beat the hell out of Boston. That should have been enough. Sometimes winning is the message. You don't need to underline it, circle it and draw a middle finger next to it.

Jazz should've stayed on the bag. And everybody else? Stop being so damn soft.  It's baseball.

Act like you've been here before.

STOP BLAMING CABALLERO. THE YANKEES COULDN’T SCORE

I’m seeing a lot of attention being thrown at Jose Caballero after the Yankees got embarrassed by the Angels Monday night.

Yes, Caballero made an error. Yes, it was ugly. But can we please tell the whole story?

When Caballero botched the potential double-play ball in the sixth inning, the Yankees were already losing 6-1. His mistake allowed another run to score and made it 7-1.

So, explain something to me. How exactly did Jose Caballero lose this game? Were the Yankees suddenly going to score six runs if he fielded that ball cleanly?

Because they didn't. They scored one run the entire night.

One.

Spencer Jones hit a solo homer in the fifth inning. That was it. The Yankees finished with six hits, didn't draw a walk and went quietly against Angels rookie Walbert Ureña, who gave them seven innings of one-run baseball.

And let's remember what happened before Caballero's sixth-inning error.

Elmer Rodríguez had already put the Yankees in a 4-0 hole. The Angels made it 5-1 in the fifth. Then Michael Fulmer's errant pickoff attempt helped another run score.

It was 6-1 before Caballero made the error everybody wants to talk about.

That's context. Caballero deserves criticism for playing sloppy defense. Absolutely. He'd probably tell you the same thing. But blaming him for a 10-1 loss is ridiculous.

The Yankees didn't lose because their shortstop booted a ball while they were already getting blown out.

They lost because they couldn't hit. They couldn't score. And they couldn't give themselves even the slightest chance to win.

You don't beat anybody scoring one run.

Stop looking for a convenient scapegoat. Jose Caballero didn't lose this game. The Yankees offense did. Get over it.

REPORT: BOONE’S SEAT IS GETTING WARM. GOOD.

For years, the Yankees have sold us the Aaron Boone résumé. Winning seasons. Playoff appearances. Great clubhouse. Players love him.

Wonderful. Where’s the championship?

Now Jon Heyman reports that Boone may finally be on “slightly less steady ground,” with his future potentially depending on what happens this October.

And it’s about time. Boone has managed the Yankees since 2018. He’s won plenty of games. He finally reached the World Series in 2024. But here’s the only number Yankees fans really care about:

ZERO championships.

That’s not being unfair. It's a fact. That’s being a Yankee fan. This isn’t a franchise where simply making the playoffs earns you a parade. Boone has had Aaron Judge, Gerrit Cole, big payrolls and plenty of opportunities.

At some point, almost has to stop being good enough. I don't hate Aaron Boone. I think he's a bad manager that does not command respect.

Nine years without a championship in New York? Come on. The Yankees haven't won it all since 2009. Boone has been given plenty of runway to change that.

So maybe his seat really is getting warmer. Good.

Win No. 28. That's the job.