WHEN GAMES GET TIGHT, BOONE FOLDS

The dude is clueless. The dude is unfit to run this team. Everyone on the east coast was yelling into their TV. We all knew that Ohtani was about to crush us. I'd even suggest that Fried knew that Ohtani had seen enough of his stuff to make a dominant swing. You know who didn't get any of it? Aaron Boone.

Managing a baseball team when everything’s going right? That’s easy. Just sit back, spit sunflower seeds, and ride the wave. But managing when things get messy? When tension hangs over a game like a storm cloud? That’s when a real manager earns his paycheck.

So, what does Aaron Boone do in those moments? He takes a nap with the bullpen phone unplugged.

Let’s not sugarcoat it. Friday night in Los Angeles was a statement game—the kind of matchup the Yankees should treat like Game 1 of the World Series. Instead, Boone treated it like a Tuesday in June. The Dodgers came ready for war. Boone brought a wet sponge.

Sure, some fans will try to pin this one on Max Fried. He gave up a solo shot to Shohei Ohtani, then got burned eventually. But if you’ve been watching baseball for more than five minutes, you know the third time through the order is where good pitchers become vulnerable and great managers earn their stripes. Boone didn’t even bother to reach for the Sharpie.

This wasn’t just any hitter, either. It was Shohei Ohtani. You let him see a pitcher three times in one night and expect a miracle? That’s not managing. That’s gambling with someone else’s chips.

Boone froze. Again. Like he always does when the pressure ratchets up. Ohtani crushed another ball into the Hollywood Hills, Freddie Freeman doubled twice and collected three hits, and the defending champs feasted on a manager who clearly didn’t read the scouting report—or didn’t care to.

That once-comfortable 5–2 Yankees lead? Gone faster than Boone’s postgame accountability.

Even after Fried was finally yanked—far too late—the bleeding didn’t stop. The Dodgers racked up four runs in the inning, some before Fried left, some after. Doesn’t matter. The damage was done, and Boone stood there like a guy watching a wine glass fall off the table in slow motion.

And for good measure, Boone decided to pinch-hit DJ LeMahieu in the eighth with two runners on and two outs, even though DJ’s OPS looks like a typo on the back of a Little League card. Predictably, he flied out, threat over, inning dead, hope extinguished. It's fun to try to give guys a chance Boone but do it when the pressure is off and guys like DJ can build some confidence. It was like he pulled his name randomly from a hat. This wasn’t just poor decision-making—it was managerial malpractice.

The Yankees needed a tactician. They got a bystander. Again.

And that’s why this team hasn’t sniffed a championship under Boone. When the lights get bright and the games get tight, he always seems to fold. It's not the first time he's mismanaged a pivotal moment, and it won’t be the last. He’s had years to grow into this job, and yet the learning curve still looks like Mount Everest.

This loss doesn’t land squarely on Max Fried’s shoulders. It lands on Boone's. He didn’t adjust. He didn’t react. He didn’t manage.

And if you’re wondering why the Yankees didn’t win the World Series last year—or why they won’t win it this year—look no further than the top step of the dugout.

Leadership matters. Sadly, we just don’t have any.

Today’s another chance to prove someone in pinstripes actually has a pulse. But if Boone’s holding the reins again… expect more of the same.