EJECTIONS AREN'T NOBLE, BOONE

Let’s make one thing crystal clear: you don’t argue balls and strikes. Everyone in baseball knows this. 

Is the strike zone always fair? Absolutely not. Sometimes umpires squeeze you. Sometimes they miss. And sometimes, a borderline pitch ends up looking like it landed in Hoboken.

But here’s the thing: the call doesn’t change. That’s the rule. Always has been. So, when a manager knows this and still goes full Broadway meltdown over a low strike call, what are we doing here?

Enter Aaron Boone, stage left.

The man is addicted to ejections. At this point, he’s not managing games—he’s auditioning for an off-Broadway play called “Tossed Off". 

He claims it’s about protecting his guys. Fighting for them. Rallying the troops. Please. It’s not leadership. It’s performance art.

Take last night: game tied 1-1, one out, Volpe on second. Jasson Domínguez takes a pitch low and gets rung up looking. And yes, it was a bad call, But Domínguez, a quiet kid still finding his way in the majors, reacted like a veteran. Arms up, a little frustration, a few words with the ump—done.

“I was surprised, because it was low,” Domínguez said.

You and everyone else, Jasson. But look, he kept his cool. Because guess what? There was still a game to win.

Aaron Boone gets ejected in the ninth inning after a low strike three call on Jasson Dominguez pic.twitter.com/lXvrikm4a7

— Talkin’ Baseball (@TalkinBaseball_) May 14, 2025

And then Boone charges in like a bouncer who just spotted someone sneaking into VIP. He literally pushes Domínguez aside—because of course he needs center stage—and unloads a string of expletives that probably got bleeped in seven languages. He got tossed, again, shocker.

Now, some folks will call this “fire.” They’ll say Boone is “sticking up for his guys.” But it’s not. It’s noise. It’s an overcooked gesture that means absolutely nothing. The call didn’t change. The inning didn’t extend. The Yankees still lost.

You want to show leadership? Win the damn game on a decision you made, big guy.

Boone acts like these ejections are some kind of emotional spark plug. Spoiler alert: they never work. You look like a clown. You think the team huddles up in the dugout like, “Boone got tossed! Let’s go to war!” No. They go, “Well, there goes Boone again.” Because it’s routine now. He’s the boy who cried “bad call.”

Look, Max Fried pitched a gem. That happens. The Yankees, who’ve been riding a high-powered offense all year, just couldn’t crack him. That’s baseball. Sometimes you run into a buzzsaw. Doesn’t mean you need to light yourself on fire to make a point.

Also, newsflash: Max Fried can’t pitch every game. The Yankees' pitching staff is thinner than Boone’s arguments. The bullpen? Shaky. The rotation? Questionable. And we’re in May. Remember December? When Bleeding Yankee Blue suggested, “Hey, maybe fix the pitching”? Yeah, about that... bottom line is the Yankees offense is good, but in the end, good pitching wins ballgames and here's an example of the Yanks not able to close it out because over time, offense gets tired. being hot all the time isn't sustainable in baseball... it's just not.

But back to Boone. This guy treats May like October. Every borderline call becomes a crusade. Every ejection a badge of honor. He’s like that guy at the gym yelling at the treadmill for going too fast. It’s not intensity—it’s insecurity.

What’s sad is that some fans will defend this like it’s noble. But let me ask you: when has Boone ever made a savvy in-game decision that flipped the script? When has he out-managed anyone? 

Never.

So don’t tell me he’s “fighting for the team.” He’s fighting for the camera. If he really wanted to help, maybe save the fireworks for a blown call in October. Or a game that actually means something. Not a random Tuesday in May when there’s still four months of baseball left.

Last night’s loss wasn’t about one bad call. It was about not executing when it counted. That’s on the players—and yes, the manager. Screaming at an umpire doesn’t change that. It’s just theater. A hollow act. 

So yeah, the Yanks lost. Boo hoo. It happens. But Boone’s meltdown? That’s the real loss. Because every time he does this, he reminds us he’s not leading—he’s just lashing out. And the team deserves better.

It’s a long season, Aaron. Try managing like you know how. Pick your spots. And maybe try staying in the dugout for once.