RODÓN SETS THE TONE IN SUBWAY SERIES OPENER

The Yankees took care of business Friday night, beating the Mets 6-4 in the Subway Series opener at Yankee Stadium and extending their winning streak to four.

Cody Bellinger delivered the big blow, crushing a three-run homer in the second inning to give the Yankees a lead they never surrendered. Ben Rice added a solo shot and finished with three hits, while Spencer Jones got the scoring started with an RBI single.

Carlos Rodón gave the Yankees exactly what they needed, going 6⅓ innings with eight strikeouts in his longest outing of the season. The bullpen made things a little too interesting late, but David Bednar came in with the bases loaded in the eighth and finished off a five-out save.

The Yankees are now 85-62, winners of four straight and still three games behind Tampa Bay for first place in the AL East.

Bottom line: Bellinger brought the thunder, Rodón brought the pitching, and the Yankees kept moving forward. With 15 games left, winning the division is still the mission.

LOOK WHO SHOWED UP? YANKS SWEEP ROCKIES

Anthony Volpe finally did something to help the New York Yankees win a baseball game.

There. I said it.

In his return from Triple-A, Volpe went 3-for-4, drove in five runs and launched a grand slam as the Yankees beat Colorado 10-3 and completed the sweep. It was a hell of a game. Give him credit. He showed up when his number was called.

But everybody relax. I'm still not buying Anthony Volpe. 

First off, there were other Yankees who deserve some attention from last night. Luis García Jr. launched his 30th homer of the season, a two-run shot that got things started. Spencer Jones delivered a huge two-run single in the seventh. Cody Bellinger drove in a run, and Max Fried struck out seven while allowing just one run, although it took him 80 pitches to get through 3.1 innings. The bullpen did enough from there.

That's called a team win.

We aren't asking Volpe to be Derek Jeter. We're not asking him to be a superstar. We're asking him to become something resembling the player Yankee scouts told us he was going to be. That's it. Like Jesus, bat .280 on the year.

We've spent years hearing about the talent, the upside and the potential. Meanwhile, we've watched the inconsistency. So, one huge night against a Colorado team that has lost 100 games doesn't suddenly erase everything we've already seen. I'm a realist.

Was Volpe's adrenaline pumping after getting recalled? Absolutely. Did he look energized? Sure. Did he have a great game? Damn right.

But we've seen this movie before. A big game. A little hope. Everyone starts screaming that Volpe has "figured it out." Then comes another stretch where we're wondering what happened.

So, spare me the redemption tour after one night. I've been fooled for 3 years with this guy.

Am I happy for Volpe? No. I'm happy the Yankees won.

Volpe did his job, exactly what he was supposed to do. That's what I'm happy about. There is way too much emphasis placed on the fact that Anthony Volpe did it instead of what actually matters: the Yankees need to win this division.

So that's the story. This isn't about rebuilding Anthony Volpe's confidence or proving the Yankees were right about him. September isn't about protecting prospects, organizational pride or winning arguments.

It's about winning baseball games. Volpe helped them do that last night. Good. Do it again.

And again. Because one grand slam doesn't change my opinion of Anthony Volpe. But helping the Yankees get to first place might.

That's the standard now.

Win the damn division.

LOMBARD GOES GRAND. VOLPE GETS ANOTHER LIFE

George Lombard Jr. gave Yankee fans the moment of the night.

With Spencer Jones working a two-out walk to help load the bases, Lombard stepped up and crushed an opposite-field grand slam — the first of his career and the Yankees’ first grand slam of the season.

The kid continues to impress.

Jones deserves credit, too. Two walks, patience at the plate and another contribution from a young player who looks like he belongs.

And Will Warren? Six strong innings, one run and eight strikeouts. Exactly what the Yankees needed.

Then came the news that made me roll my eyes.

Anthony Volpe is coming back.

With Jazz Chisholm Jr. suffering a thumb sprain, Volpe will rejoin the major league roster Thursday. And apparently we're going to force this experiment into second base now?

Why?

José Caballero is already here. He can play second. Let him.

I simply don't care about the Anthony Volpe experiment anymore. He had his opportunity. It was a long time. The Yankees finally sent him to Triple-A, Lombard took over at shortstop, and the kid has brought energy and excitement.

Why are we still trying to manufacture opportunities for Volpe?

At some point, stop trying to prove you're right about a player and just play the guys who give you the best chance to win.

This is the kind of organizational nonsense that makes it hard for me to root for this team sometimes.

Lombard is giving you something special. Don't screw it up.

JUDGE RETURNS & THE YANKEES KEEP ROLLING

Aaron Judge is back. Finally.

The Yankee captain returned Tuesday night after missing 100 days, and while he went 0-for-3, nobody cares about the box score right now. Judge is healthy, he’s in right field, and the Yankees beat Colorado 5-3.

QUICK HITS: Judge is back. That’s the headline. Now stay healthy.

Cam Schlittler shoved: 7 innings, 1 earned run, 10 strikeouts. The kid continues to be the real deal.
Ryan McMahon ripped an RBI double to put the Yankees ahead.
Heliot Ramos delivered the dagger — a three-run bomb in the eighth.
David Bednar closed it out for save No. 32.

The Yankees are 82-62. September is here. Judge is back.

Enough excuses. Go win the damn thing.

WHOEVER MADE THIS MEME OWES BILL BELICHICK AN APOLOGY

I saw this floating around and immediately had one question:

Who the hell made this thing?

Bill Belichick standing next to Aaron Boone with “8 rings combined” plastered across the bottom is technically clever, I guess.

Except Belichick did the heavy lifting.

The meme says one has eight and the other has zero. The larger point is dead-on: Belichick has actually reached the mountaintop repeatedly. Boone has been managing the Yankees since 2018 and still hasn't won a World Series.

So please don't put these two guys together like they're some kind of championship power couple.

One is associated with championships.

The other is associated with explaining losses.

And that's where this meme accidentally pisses me off.

I've heard every Aaron Boone defense imaginable. Great regular-season record. Players love him. Good communicator. Keeps the clubhouse together.

Wonderful.

Where's the freaking ring?

Boone has 778 regular-season victories and a .582 winning percentage as Yankees manager. That's impressive until you remember we're talking about the New York Yankees, where the assignment isn't win a bunch of games between April and September. The assignment is to win the World Series.

Nine seasons. Zero championships.

That's the stat I care about.

And worse, I still don't trust him when the game gets tight. I don't trust the pitching changes. I don't trust the lineup decisions. I don't trust the feel for the moment. October exposes managers because eventually the spreadsheet stops helping and somebody has to actually manage the baseball game in front of him.

That's where Boone scares the hell out of me.

Yet here we are again in 2026. Aaron Judge is 34. The championship window isn't going to remain open forever, and somehow the Yankees continue acting as though Boone deserves unlimited attempts to figure this thing out.

Why should I expect this October to be different?

I don't.

Maybe the Yankees get hot. Maybe Judge carries them. Maybe the pitching catches fire and Boone finally pushes every correct button.

I'd love to be wrong.

But after nine years, I'm done predicting something I've never seen.

So congratulations to whoever made the meme. You got your engagement.

But don't ever put Aaron Boone's name next to Bill Belichick's rings again.

Belichick earned his jewelry.

Boone is still looking for the damn store.

THE CAPTAIN IS BACK! GO GET 28!

Aaron Judge is back.

Finally.

The Yankees activated their captain Monday night, and Judge is expected back in the lineup today against the Rockies after missing more than three months with a fractured rib. No rehab assignment. No more waiting. It’s go time. And man, did this lineup miss him.

The Yankees went 45-39 without Judge, but the offense was ugly. They hit just .227 during his absence, and now they enter the final 19 games four games behind Tampa Bay in the AL East.

So yes, I’m thrilled. Judge changes everything. His presence changes the lineup, changes how pitchers attack the Yankees and gives this team something it desperately needs:

Fear.

But now comes the question nobody wants to ask while we're celebrating: Can Aaron Judge get us to the finish line? Not September. Not a Wild Card banner. Not another “great season.” October. The World Series. A championship.

Judge is back.

Now go finish the damn job.

STANTON LIVES!

Everyone's waiting for Aaron Judge to return, but apparently Giancarlo Stanton isn't completely dead for 2026 either. Wild.

Aaron Boone says Stanton is hitting and gave us the always-informative “we’ll see.”

Thanks, Aaron. Pulitzer stuff.

Look, Stanton hasn't played since April 24 because his calf apparently has the structural integrity of wet toilet paper. At 36, expecting him to suddenly become Cal Ripken Jr. is ridiculous.

But here's the funny part: I still want him.

Because if October comes and I need one gigantic human being to walk to the plate and scare the absolute hell out of a pitcher, give me Big G.

Judge and Stanton back for October?

I'll believe it when I see it.

But I'm certainly not deleting Stanton's number yet. Interesting.

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.