I BELIEVE IN WARREN, BUT I'M NOT THERE YET WITH WEATHERS

Will Warren is starting to make me rethink things—and I don’t say that lightly.

I’ve watched enough of him now to admit it: the kid is growing up in front of us. Not in a flashy, highlight-reel way every night, but in that quieter, more annoying-to-opposing-teams way where suddenly the box score looks clean and you’re not entirely sure when it stopped being a “question mark” start and turned into “oh, he’s actually getting us through this.” I’m not all-in on the hype train, but I’ll give credit where it’s due—he’s finding real footing.

After a 2025 rookie season where he basically became a baseball workhorse—33 starts, steady production, and the kind of availability managers dream about—he’s carried that into 2026 and turned the dial up. Through his first five starts, the results have taken a noticeable step forward, with a 2.49 ERA that doesn’t feel like a small sample fluke so much as a continuation of real development.

What’s changed isn’t just luck or vibes either. There’s been actual refinement here. A slight tweak in his positioning on the rubber, some mechanical cleanup, and suddenly his stuff is playing up. The metrics back it too—better command, more strikes in the zone, and most importantly for a Yankees fan’s blood pressure, fewer free passes. He’s attacking hitters instead of auditioning for a full-count drama series every inning.

And durability? That part matters more than people admit. Thirty-three starts last year wasn’t just a stat—it was survival. Now he’s carrying that same “give me the ball every fifth day” energy into this season and actually pitching deep enough into games to let the bullpen breathe. That alone earns you a few extra innings of goodwill in New York.

So yeah… prove me wrong, Will. I kind of like where this is going.

Now, Ryan Weathers is a different conversation entirely—and I’m not ready to be sold just because the box score smiled at him once.

I’m calling the last good outing what it felt like: a break in the weather, not a forecast change. There’s history here that makes Yankees fans side-eye these things anyway—his name alone carries a faint echo from a different era, and no, that doesn’t automatically translate into present-day trust.

And look, I get it, he’s had moments this season. But there’s still a lot of “hold on a second” baked into his profile. He’s had starts where things get loud in a hurry—like the April 14 outing where the Angels turned the baseball into souvenir material. It was one of those weird stat lines where you almost have to double-check the franchise record book just to confirm it actually happened: double-digit strikeouts mixed with multiple home runs allowed in the same game. That’s not balance—that’s chaos with a uniform on.

The underlying concerns are still there too. Too much hard contact. A barrel rate that makes you wince a little. A ground-ball profile that doesn’t quite rescue him when the ball is lifted in a park like Yankee Stadium. And when hitters aren’t missing, the pitch count climbs fast enough that you can practically see the bullpen phone ringing before the fifth inning ends.

Even some of the deeper evaluations have pointed out the same thing: the secondary pitches flash potential but don’t always behave, and when the curve or changeup isn’t landing, things tend to unravel quickly. The result is usually the same storyline—five-ish innings, a few too many stressful frames, and a manager quietly hoping the bullpen remembered to stretch.

So where does that leave it? Honestly, somewhere in the middle of “interesting addition” and “let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

The Yankees, as a whole, are rolling right now. The rotation has held together better than expected, and there’s real reason for optimism. But not every piece is equally convincing just yet. Warren feels like he’s trending upward and earning trust start by start. Weathers still feels like a guy you keep watching with your arms crossed, waiting for the sample size to stop arguing with itself.

For now, it’s working. The results are there as a team. But some stories are still being written in pencil—and Weathers is very much one of them. Sorry, it wouldn't be Bleeding Yankee Blue without a harsh, real opinion. Deal with it.

BEN RICE IS THE REAL DEAL

Something funny has happened in the Bronx, and no—it’s not another mystery injury or a bullpen game gone sideways. It’s Ben Rice turning into an absolute menace at the plate, and doing it in a way that screams, “this is real, deal with it.”

Back in 2024, Rice looked like a guy with promise but also like someone who might get lost in the endless shuffle of Yankees roster experiments. The batting average didn’t jump off the page, and casual fans probably shrugged. But underneath that modest surface was something far more interesting—loud contact, strong barrel rates, and the kind of metrics that quietly whisper, “just wait.”

Well, waiting is over.

By late April 2026, Rice hasn’t just arrived—he’s kicked the door in, rearranged the furniture, and claimed a permanent seat in the lineup. This isn’t a hot streak fueled by bloopers and wind-aided home runs. This is a full-blown Statcast-backed takeover. We’re talking top-tier, elite-level contact. It’s the kind of number you expect from the guys who get paid to hit cleanup in October.

And if you’re looking for proof that this isn’t smoke and mirrors, the expected numbers are basically nodding along in agreement. His xwOBA and expected slugging are right there with the actual production, which is a polite analytical way of saying: yeah, this is exactly what should be happening. And you know I hate talking about weird stats, but this guy is doing great things.

But here’s where it gets even better—because the easy thing would’ve been to label Rice as a platoon bat and move on like Boone was doing. A nice little role player who sits when a lefty is on the mound. Except Rice apparently didn’t get that memo. He’s hammering left-handed pitching to the tune of well over .300, launching homers, and generally making that whole “platoon” conversation look outdated. Even Aaron Boone has had to admit the obvious, noting Rice’s progress against southpaws. Translation: you can’t take this guy out of the lineup anymore without it looking ridiculous.

And yet… this is the Yankees we’re talking about. Which means somewhere, at some point, there will be a temptation. A lineup shuffle. A “rest day.” A matchup-based benching that makes everyone collectively scream into their coffee.

Let’s be clear: that cannot happen.

If Boone even thinks about pulling Rice out of the lineup while he’s doing this, Brian Cashman should be on the phone to the dugout before the lineup card is even finished printing. Not a casual call, either. The kind of call that says, “What are we doing here?” followed shortly by, “Let’s not do that again.” And if the message doesn’t land? Well… there are bigger conversations to be had. Like Fire Boone? Wishful thinking.

Because Rice isn’t just producing—he’s doing it with a blend of power and discipline that teams spend years trying to develop. He’s walking, he’s hunting fastballs like he’s got the answer key, and that subtle swing adjustment he made on his own has turned him into a fastball-destroying machine. Pitchers try to sneak one by him, and it ends up in the seats. It’s not complicated.

Through the first few weeks of 2026, he’s hitting over .300, piling up home runs, and running an OPS that lives north of 1.200. That’s not “nice start” territory—that’s “build the lineup around this guy immediately” territory. And he’s doing it while driving in runs, stepping into big spots, and stabilizing a lineup that’s had its share of early-season chaos.

What really stands out, though, is the confidence. You can see it. This is not a fill-in. This is not a placeholder. This is a former 12th-round pick who has developed into a legitimate force, someone who can play first, slide into DH, and—most importantly—hit anywhere you put him.

The New York Yankees don’t just have a good story here. They have a solution. A middle-of-the-order bat who’s proving, night after night, that the numbers are real, the adjustments are real, and the production is very, very real.

So, the plan is simple: write his name in the lineup. Every day. In ink. Not pencil. Not “we’ll see.” Not “depending on matchups.”

Because if Ben Rice is hitting, the Yankees are dangerous. And if Boone decides that’s optional, he's missing the point entirely, which he does all the time.

WHY I LOVE SPENCER JONES

Wow!, When I read Jeana Bellezza-Ochoa's piece called FIVE TOOL TALENT OR NOT, JONES DOESN'T HAVE WHAT IT TAKES!, I didn't realize how much she didn't like Spencer Jones.  Then she decided to break my chops about it! How dare she. Well look, I guess it's time to explain where my heads at when it comes to Jones.  Here we go...

There are two types of baseball fans in this world: the ones who panic at a strikeout… and the ones who understand that sometimes a strikeout is just the price of admission for absolute chaos.

If you’re watching Spencer Jones right now and clutching your pearls every time he swings through a pitch, take a deep breath and open a history book—specifically the chapter on Reggie Jackson, patron saint of “yeah he struck out, but did you see where that last ball landed?”

Because the parallels? Oh, they’re spicy. Let’s start with the obvious: Spencer Jones is basically a walking science experiment in power. According to Baseball America, early in 2026 he’s already showing the full “three true outcomes” experience—homers, walks, and strikeouts—with 19 strikeouts in just 37 plate appearances (a 51.4% rate).

That’s not a typo. That’s a “hide your children, hide your batting average” kind of number.

But here’s the thing: five of his seven hits went for extra bases. When he connects, it’s not a single—it’s a small event registered by NASA.

And this isn’t some fluky April heater. In 2025, Jones mashed 35 home runs with a .571 slugging percentage across Double-A and Triple-A, while still running a strikeout rate north of 35%. Translation: yes, he swings and misses a lot… but when he hits the ball, it files a police report.

Now let’s talk about the ghost of Yankee Stadium past—the guy everyone forgets struck out a ton because all anyone remembers are October fireworks. Reggie Jackson didn’t just strike out a lot. He holds the all-time MLB record with 2,597 strikeouts.

That’s not “he struck out a bit.” That’s “he struck out more than anyone who has ever picked up a bat.”

And yet…

• 563 home runs
• 1,700+ RBIs
• Five World Series rings
• A casual nickname of Mr. October because he treated the postseason like his personal fireworks show

Oh—and according to MLB stats, he struck out 100+ times in 18 different seasons. Eighteen! If Twitter existed in 1972, Reggie would’ve been DFA’d by June and trending under #TooManyKs. Here’s where it gets fun. A young Reggie Jackson was exactly what Spencer Jones is now: a terrifying, flawed, unbelievably dangerous hitter. In 1968, for example, Jackson hit 29 home runs while striking out 171 times—a massive number for that era.

Back then, that kind of strikeout total practically came with a handwritten apology note to the fanbase. But guess what teams realized? Runs matter more than aesthetics. Because here’s the dirty little secret about baseball that drives batting-average purists insane:

A strikeout and a weak groundout are exactly the same thing. One just looks uglier.

And if the trade-off is that your “ugly” hitter also launches 35+ home runs, drives in runs, and changes games with one swing… you live with it. Happily. You send it flowers. Reggie Jackson was the blueprint. According to MLB analysis, his power production was 80% better than league average, even while his strikeout rate was way above his peers. Teams didn’t just tolerate the strikeouts—they accepted them as part of the deal for elite production.

Which brings us back to Spencer Jones, a 6-foot-7 problem for opposing pitchers. He’s already shown a Light-tower power (multiple HR bursts in spring and minors), Elite extra-base hit ability as well as the ability to change a game with one swing. And yes… a strikeout rate that makes hitting coaches wake up in a cold sweat.

But here’s the key: the Yankees don’t need Spencer Jones to be a contact hitter. They need him to be a run producer. And according to MLB.com reporting, even the organization understands that his strikeouts may simply be the “tradeoff” for his elite power.

Sound familiar? That’s literally the Reggie Jackson experience. So, let’s say it plainly, you Jeana, are you listening? If Spencer Jones becomes a guy who hits 35–45 home runs, drives in 100 runs, and wins games… nobody is going to care if he strikes out 200 times. Not in the Bronx. Not anywhere. Because baseball history has already answered this question.

The all-time strikeout king is also one of the greatest sluggers to ever live. So, the next time Spencer Jones swings through a pitch and the crowd groans, just remember—you’re not watching a flaw.

You’re watching the cost of doing business for a potential star. Reggie Jackson paid that price. And if things break right? Spencer Jones might too. And if that happens, Yankees fans won’t be counting strikeouts…

They’ll be counting rings. One would hope.

THE YANKEES PROSPECT YOU SHOULD BE PAYING ATTENTION TO!

No, I am not talking about Spencer Jones. It's no secret by now I am OVER that guy. Casey digs him, I don't. NEXT.

So who is next? I'm watching Elmer Rodriguez. If you don't know who he is, he's the Yankees number three prospect who opened eyes at spring training. It was easy to watch that other guy who is overhyped. The real story just might be Elmer!

In all my time here, I have a history for getting excited about pitching prospects and Elmer is my latest. I am anxiously awaiting his next start to see how he builds upon his impressive start of the season. In three starts, he has pitched 15.2 innings, struck out 13 and has a ridiculous 1.15 ERA. In his last start he threw first pitch strikes to 17 of the 21 batters he faced. Yes, that gets me excited. 

Another thing that gets me excited, is when we can stead some good talent from Boston. We did that with Cam Schlittler and Elmer could be another good pick up. Schlittler popped on the scene in a big way last season and Elmer had a good season in the minors. In 27 games last season, he struck out 176 batters and held opponents to a .192 BA. He's got a good sinker in his pitching arsenal and all good things that give me tingles. Boston drafted him in the fourth round in 2021 and traded him to us in exchange for catcher Carlos Narvaez and that could pay dividends in the future.

It's early in the season, and he has more to prove in Triple-A but you never know what the Yankees may need later in the season. If he continues to progress, he could force the Yankees hand and make it impossible for the Yankees not to give him a call up. Right now a lot has to go wrong with Gerrit Cole and Carlos Rodon getting closer to return but there have been question marks with Luis Gil and his ability to be a reliable starter after he has regressed since his 2024 rookie season.

The Yankees have proven they are not shy about calling young studs up. We saw it last year with Schlittler, and if Elmer keeps pitching the way he is now the Yankees would be stupid not to give him a shot to help this team win the division.

Elmer's not ready yet, but he's getting closer and I like what I am seeing.
All eyes on Elmer!

--Jeana Bellezza-Ochoa

BYB Senior Managing Editor

Twitter: @nyprincessj

THE YANKEES & ASTROS SWAP NOBODIES!

The Yankees get better and better at frustrating fans and now players alike. Back in February, the Yankees designated Braden Shewmake for assignment to clear up a spot on the 40-man roster. But he sat in limbo waiting....and waiting until yesterday.

On Sunday, after waiting two and a half months, Shewmake was traded to the Houston Astros for pitcher Wilmy Sanchez. The shortstop that had no clear path to the majors and just sat around cleasring up a 40-man roster spot for all of last season is officially gone. This is what frustrates me about the Yankees. We had no where to put him, and he was not a clear upgrade over Anthony Volpe but let's just let him hold on to a valuable spot that anyone else could have and we could've used. That's the New York Yankee way.

And there was no reason to keep Shewmake as long as we did. He was bad at Scranton last season with a .244 BA and he was on pace for more of the same this spring. Even an extensive injury history in the infield would not have given him a golden opportunity at the big league level. We just like to hold onto scrubs.

The Astros, unfortunately need him. They have significant injuries they are dealing with and let Mauricio Dubon walk over the winter so now they are desperate and get the Yankees leftovers. Not that we are left with much better.....

So now we have Sanchez, the Astros leftovers. He's going to be the latest reclamation project for the Yankees. We all know how much Brian Cashman loves those. Now Matt Blake gets another pitcher he has to try and tune up. I will say if Blake can work his magic there COULD be an upside but it is a gamble. In 61 innings pitched last season he only gave up six home runs so it will be interesting to see if he can keep that success in New York. He also recorded 75 strikeouts so he has potential....but he does have some serious command issues holding him back but at 22 years old, he's still young enough to mold and get him ready for big league play.

Potential is always nice, but we are all tired of watching the Yankees go dumpster diving for projects. This strategy has blown up in our faces now with Camilo Doval and Jake Bird. Not to mention, there is still some trauma lingering from the failures of Clay Holmes, Mark Leiter Jr and Jonathan Loaisiga and honestly I could continue with this list but I am gonna save myself some PTSD....it's going to be a long season.

The Yankees and Astros swapped nobodies this weekend. As we sit and wait for the Yankees to make a deal for a difference maker, we all age a little more and grow more frustrated. These are not the moves of a contender, but a pretender.

--Jeana Bellezza-Ochoa

BYB Senior Managing Editor

Twitter: @nyprincessj

YANKEES WIN. BOONE SPINS.

The Yankees beat the Royals again. Put it in the ledger, take the win, move on—but let’s not pretend they just climbed Everest. It’s Kansas City. You’re supposed to win these games. And lately, the Yankees have been treating “supposed to” like an optional setting.

Remember how this season started? Red hot, everything clicking—then the usual unraveling act. Questionable bullpen moves, inconsistent pitching, and a general sense that the team is being steered by vibes instead of strategy. Now they might be stabilizing, let's see where this takes us.

But homer happy always seems to be the setting the Yankees fall back on. And they did what they always default to yesterday—hitting homers. Four of them. Boom, game tilted, stress reduced. And sure, that’s fun. Nobody’s booing a three-run shot. But it’s also the same glaring issue: this team treats run manufacturing like it’s some ancient, forbidden art. Move a runner? String together hits? Productive outs? Nah—just wait for someone to go yard. When it works, it looks dominant. When it doesn’t, it looks like a lineup stuck in buffering.

Will Warren deserves real credit, though—11 strikeouts and an outing that didn’t feel like a survival exercise. That alone is noteworthy given how many of their early games turned into coin flips. Fourteen of the first 20 decided by two runs or fewer tells you everything: this team doesn’t separate cleanly. So yeah, a five-run cushion and a cruise-control finish? That’s basically a luxury suite.

And then—inevitably—you get Aaron Boone at the podium, serving up his trademark blend of empty calories and verbal fog. After the game, he says: “A lot of good swings up and down the lineup, against a tough lefty."

A tough lefty? Really?

This is where it crosses from optimism into outright insulting everyone’s intelligence. Noah Cameron is not some shutdown force. He’s not a guy you circle on the schedule in fear. He’s a developing pitcher with middling stuff, a fastball that’s been tagged as a weakness, and numbers that scream regression. Calling him a “tough lefty” is Boone trying to dress up a routine performance like it’s a signature win. It’s spin. Transparent, lazy spin.

It’s the same routine every time—inflate the opponent, flatten the context, and hope nobody notices. Like the Yankees just cracked some elite code to “get the bats going.” No. They faced a pitcher who’s still figuring it out and did what a competent lineup should do.

This wasn’t some heroic breakthrough. They didn’t slay Goliath. They handled a beatable arm on a beatable team.

And that’s fine—just say that. Stop acting like fans can’t tell the difference.

End of the day, yes: a win is a win. Take it. But if this team wants to actually be something, it’s going to take more than homer binges and postgame word salad pretending routine games are defining moments.

That's my take.

'HERO' MCMAHON WITH A 2 HANDED SWING & GROUNDED!

It's a great thing when you fix your hitting mechanics, isn't it? Ryan McMahon was grounded, in his legs, his bottom half & top half worked together... and he swung with both hands.   Say Halleluiah, Say Amen.

And what does Aaron Boone have to say about all this? Strap in for another masterpiece of empty-calorie philosophy—something along the lines of: baseball is hard, adversity builds character, good players are good. "Put a good swing on it on a crazy night." Simpleton. Riveting stuff. Truly groundbreaking analysis. You’d get more insight from a fortune cookie.

That’s the issue. Boone talks like a motivational poster when the moment actually calls for awareness. This wasn’t some vague “trust the process” situation—this was real, tangible adjustment happening in real time, and he sounds like he’s narrating a rain delay.

Because the moment for Ryan McMahon? That was massive. Not symbolic—mechanical. The kind of thing that actually changes outcomes. His swing had been out of sync for weeks—top half flying open, lower half lagging behind, everything disconnected. And then last night? Something clicked. He worked to fix it.

This didn’t come out of nowhere either. McMahon was grinding in the cage for half the game before he even saw the field, then steps in after replacing Amed Rosario in the eighth with the New York Yankees barely holding a lead. That’s not a casual at-bat.

Meanwhile, Cam Schlittler was dealing—six-plus innings, one unearned run, carving through the first 11 hitters like it was a spring training scrimmage. The game had that flat, lifeless feel offensively after Ben Rice went deep earlier. By the eighth, it looked like another quiet, quick inning was coming.

Then Rice keeps it alive with a single—again—and suddenly the whole inning pivots. McMahon steps in, and instead of that disjointed mess we’ve been watching, the swing is finally synced. Lower half fires, hands stay back, barrel stays through the zone, 2 hands on the bat—and boom. That’s not luck. That’s correction.

And somehow, the broader conversation from Boone completely misses it.

This wasn’t “he battled” or “he stayed with it.” This was a hitter actively fixing a broken sequence and getting immediate payoff in a huge spot. That’s the story. Not Boone’s recycled sermon.

If McMahon sticks with that connection and doesn’t drift back into bad habits, this could be a turning point—not just a nice moment.

Big swing. Big adjustment.  Everything Boone somehow managed not to say properly.

Nice win!

NEW TRADE TARGET FOR THE YANKEES?

The Yankees keep talking like they’re one “savvy move” away, but at this point the only thing they’re close to is another awkward press conference explaining why everything went sideways again. This isn’t a good team—it’s a collection of patches held together by hope, excuses, and whatever Brian Cashman scribbled on a napkin last winter.

And speaking of Cashman—his recent moves have all the precision of a blindfolded dart thrower. The Ryan McMahon experiment? That’s not a roster upgrade, that’s performance art. Watching McMahon hit right now feels like watching someone try to swat a mosquito with a pool noodle—lots of effort, zero results. The guy fell off a cliff, and honestly, so did his confidence.

Which brings us to a rare concept in the Bronx these days: a move that actually makes some sense.

Enter Willi Castro.

Now, no—this isn’t a blockbuster. He’s not walking through that door to save the season. But unlike some of Cashman’s recent “masterpieces,” Castro has a pulse and a purpose. The Colorado Rockies will likely be out of contention by the time the weather gets interesting, which makes Castro the exact kind of low-cost, high-utility piece they’ll flip for a lottery ticket prospect.

And here’s the key difference: Castro actually does things. He plays everywhere—second, short, third, first, all three outfield spots—basically wherever the Yankees have a problem (again… everywhere). He’s hitting .214, which isn’t exactly headline material, but compared to McMahon’s current “abstract art” approach at the plate, it’s practically Tony Gwynn.

Dig a little deeper and Castro’s numbers suggest he’s at least been functional, even a bit lucky, while McMahon’s stat line reads like a cry for help. Castro also holds his own against lefties, which for a bench piece is more than acceptable—it’s useful, which is a foreign concept for parts of this roster.

Let’s be clear: trading for Castro doesn’t fix the Yankees. It doesn’t turn them into contenders. It doesn’t even guarantee competence. But it does accomplish something revolutionary for this front office—it makes sense.

And right now, that alone would be a massive upgrade over whatever Brian Cashman has been cooking up lately.

THE YANKEE SAVIOR IS COMING

Anthony Volpe is rehabbing, and the Yankees are treating it like the Second Coming is scheduled for Double-A Somerset. The messaging is loud and clear: behold, the anointed one returns—Volpe, risen again, destined to fix everything that’s been broken, from the infield defense to whatever existential crisis the offense is currently having.

You’d think he’s been sent down not for reps, but for a ceremonial purification before reclaiming his throne in the Bronx.

Meanwhile, Oswald Peraza has apparently taken the “fine, I’ll do it myself” route in Anaheim, batting .269 and turning into a nightly reminder that distance and new scenery can do wonders. Against the Yankees, he hits like he’s personally offended by their existence and I love it. Just another chapter in the ongoing “front office evaluation debates” that never really end. Cashman shouldn't have let him go, but analystics spreadsheets told him to do trade him.

Back in rehab land, Volpe’s second appearance with Double-A Somerset ended 1-for-3 with a strikeout—because even prophecy takes warmups. After going hitless in his first two at-bats of the assignment (including a respectful introduction to Zack Wheeler), Volpe finally recorded his first hit in at-bat number three. Before that, there was a groundout, then a 3-2 swing-and-miss down in the zone, giving him three strikeouts in his first five rehab plate appearances. Not exactly walking on water just yet.

The schedule is set like scripture: play Friday, rest Saturday, return Sunday, then ascend to Triple-A Scranton/Wilkes-Barre, where the stakes rise and the mythology grows.

And while all eyes are fixed on the return of the Volpe chosen one, George Lombard Jr. is over in the corner quietly putting together a .425 start through 10 games with five multi-hit performances—2-for-3 with an RBI and a walk on Thursday. No fanfare. No prophecy. Just production. Doing the job he's supposed to do.

But sure—Volpe is still the guy. The anointed shortstop. The franchise savior written in pinstripes and expectation.

At some point the Yankees are either going to get their resurrection… or just another reminder that not every mess gets cleaned up by a halo.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED & THE 'FAKE NEWS' WORLD OF BRIAN CASHMAN

The Yankees had the blueprint for a clean, stress-free win: Max Fried on the mound, a slim lead, and momentum on their side. Naturally, it all went sideways. Why? Because the bullpen once again treated a lead like a polite suggestion instead of a responsibility.

And the wild part? This wasn’t supposed to be an issue anymore. Cue the flashback—July 31, 2025. Brian Cashman steps up after the trade deadline and essentially stamps the roster with a big “Mission Accomplished.” Reinforcements had arrived: David Bednar, Jake Bird, and Camilo Doval. Three arms, one promise—problem solved.

Except… not even close.

Bird’s already been rerouted to Wilkes-Barre like a package marked “return to sender.” The others? Let’s call it aggressively average. Sprinkle in a few more spare parts, and somehow the bullpen still operates like it’s held together with duct tape and crossed fingers.

Meanwhile, yesteday Fried actually gave them a chance. He settled in, found a groove, and carried a one-run lead into the sixth looking every bit like the ace. Then came the turning point—because of course it did. Former Yankee Oswald Peraza ties it with an RBI double, and Fernando Cruz follows that up by turning a crack into a crater with three more runs.

From there, it became a parade of “who’s that?” and “why now?”—Angel Chivilli (I don't know who this is) and Ryan Yarbrough—and just like that, the wheels weren’t just off, they got lost. The offense, for dramatic effect, vanished right on cue.

So yes, they got run over by an Angels team that isn’t exactly a juggernaut. And the question keeps coming back: how does a team that stockpiles bullpen arms like collectibles still end up with a relief corps that can’t close a door, let alone a game?

I’ll give you the short answer—because the guy in charge thought the job was already finished. “Mission accomplished,” remember? That’s starting to look less like confidence and more like the moment the GPS lost signal.

And it’s not just the bullpen. This is part of a longer résumé that raises eyebrows: the Carlos Rodón deal that hasn’t delivered co-ace results, the gamble on Frankie Montas that came with a warning label attached, a roster that seems permanently one tweak away from the injured list, and an offense that lives and dies by the long ball—usually dies when it matters.

At some point, it stops being bad luck and starts being a pattern.

And if you zoom out? Brian Cashman only really has one unquestioned crown jewel—2009. The rest? All of it traces back to the foundation built by Gene Michael. Since then, it’s felt more like maintenance than mastery.

Yesterday was just another episode in a very familiar series: shaky bullpen, silent bats, and a team that looks less complete the closer you examine it.

And the best (or worst) part? It’s only April 17. Plenty of time for things to improve… or for the same script to keep running on repeat.

THE ANGELS GAVE THE YANKEES A GIFT

I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

I mean, sure the Yankees got a win tonight, wins are important. But they are playing the Angels, hardly a superpower in the American League. Yes, a win is a win, but no one saw Jazz Chisholm's at bat in the 9th inning?A sky-high infield pop that dropped? The Yankees didn't actually EARN this win, they got lucky. Be real about this... don't drink the Kool-Aid. We're not world champions... Boone just dodged a bullet.  The Yankees didn’t so much win this game as politely accept a gift the Angels forgot to wrap.

Down to their last breath in the ninth, a routine pop-up turned into a three-man group project between Zach Neto and Oswald Peraza—and like most group projects, nobody took charge. The ball dropped, chaos followed, and suddenly the Yankees had life they absolutely did not earn. I sound like a hater, Michael Kay will say I'm a hater, and I'll call him a Yankee ass kisser. His ass is owned. It's just the way it is.

Enter José Caballero, who decided subtlety was overrated and ripped a two-run double to steal a 5–4 win. Hero? Sure. But let’s not pretend this was some grand, orchestrated comeback. This was baseball’s version of tripping into a winning lottery ticket.

And yeah, a win is a win. The Yankees are 10–8 so far this year. Fantastic. Hang the banner. Except a week ago they were 7–1, and now the illusion is cracking faster than a cheap bat. This isn’t a juggernaut—it’s a team surviving on opponent mistakes and crossing its fingers that Aaron Boone doesn’t overthink his way into another disaster.

Because that’s really the issue. Boone manages like he’s playing spreadsheet simulator. The whole Ben Rice situation said it all—less “ride the hot hand” and more “consult the algorithm and hope for the best.” There’s no instinct, no edge, no “this guy’s locked in, don’t touch him.” Just numbers, matchups, and second-guessing in real time.

Pitching? Shaky. Lineup? Still has holes you could drive a truck through. And yet somehow José Caballero—yes, the guy hitting .179—is out here delivering bigger moments than Anthony Volpe, who, by the way, wasn’t even in action Wednesday while continuing his rehab assignment. They are babying his achy shoulder worse than babying an actual baby.

Caballero’s doing exactly what fringe players have to do in the Bronx: force the issue. Make it uncomfortable to take the bat out of your hands. Stack moments until the front office has to notice. But let’s be real—you can already see how this ends. Volpe comes back, Boone gushes and blows kisses, Caballero gets shoved aside, and we all get to watch the same bad Volpe movie play out again in May.

So yes, the Yankees “won” tonight. But let’s call it what it was: a victory built on a botched pop-up and blind luck. If that’s the blueprint, it’s not a strategy—it’s a warning sign.

SEND RYAN WEATHERS BACK TO WHEREVER THE HELL YOU GOT HIM!

Let’s stop pretending the Brian Cashman master plan is anything more than a recycling bin of bad ideas dressed up as “strategy.”

First, it was the victory lap—mission accomplished!—after bringing in David Bednar, Jake Bird, and Camilo Doval… a trio that has turned late innings into a nightly horror show. And we were knocked out of the playoffs. Season over. Now we’re supposed to believe in the latest science experiment: Ryan Weathers, a guy who throws hard but hands out runs like it’s Halloween candy.

And somehow, the Yankees’ marketing machine keeps rolling these guys out like they’re headline acts instead of cautionary tales. It’s not roster building—it’s gaslighting with graphics.

Let’s call it what it is: this team hasn’t spent like the Yankees in years. They’re patching together a supposed contender with duct tape, crossed fingers, and whatever spare parts Cashman finds in the bargain bin. This isn’t the Bronx Bombers—it’s a clearance rack.

Remember 2009? That wasn’t luck. That was a front office actually acting like the New York Yankees. CC Sabathia, A. J. Burnett, Mark Teixeira, Nick Swisher—they went big, and guess what? It worked. Shocking concept.

Now? It’s a patchwork roster orbiting Max Fried, Aaron Judge, and Cody Bellinger, hoping gravity alone keeps the whole thing from drifting into irrelevance.

This team isn’t good—it’s marketed to look good.

Ryan Weathers in pinstripes is the perfect example. The game starts, and even a kid can see it coming: “Weathers is pitching? That’s a loss.” Imagine being a Yankee fan and saying that? What the hell. When the fans can predict the outcome before the first pitch, what exactly is the front office doing—other than pretending everything is fine?

Five innings. Five runs. Four home runs. But sure, let’s celebrate the strikeouts. Because nothing says “ace” like getting shelled while occasionally missing a bat.

And here’s the bigger issue: you cannot expect a lineup to claw back every single night because your pitcher decided to implode in the first inning. That’s not resilience—that’s exhaustion. It’s bad baseball.

Six losses in the last seven games after a hot start tells you everything. This isn’t a slump. It’s regression to the mean of a mediocre roster.

Meanwhile, Oswald Peraza was out there last night for the Angels actually competing, creating pressure, forcing mistakes—doing everything his team should be doing. But by the time he makes an impact, the damage is already done. Good for him. Sticking a finger in Cashman's eye.

And in the dugout? Aaron Boone looks like a guy trying to solve a puzzle with half the pieces missing. No urgency, no adjustments, and a bullpen strategy that feels like it’s being picked out of a hat.

You cannot expect Aaron Judge to carry this entire operation on his back every night. That’s not a plan—that’s a wish.

But don’t worry—the hype train is already moving. Anthony Volpe is being packaged like a savior, a franchise messiah ready to rescue the Bronx. What they’re not highlighting? A rough Double-A showing with 2 strikeouts that don’t exactly scream “immediate solution.” And for context, he batted against Zach Wheeler, an established major league pitcher.  So that just proves to me, he's not qualified to be on a major league field.  Pathetic.  

This is what the Yankees have become: a brand selling nostalgia while delivering mediocrity.

At some point, fans have to stop buying it—literally and figuratively. Because right now, the loudest thing in Yankee Stadium isn’t the bats.

It’s the disconnect.