WILL WEAVER RETURN TO THE CLOSER ROLE?

In Major League Baseball, the ninth inning isn’t just a frame — it’s a war zone. And if you’re not stepping on the mound with a full tank of confidence, electric energy, and surgical precision, you’re just another body waiting to blow a lead. Which is why, to anyone actually watching Yankees baseball last year, it became stunningly obvious: Luke Weaver had it.

Not kind of had it. Not flashes of it. The man was a closer. Period.

Weaver took over the job when the Clay Holmes experiment officially fizzled. Holmes had a brief run of competence, but his grip on the closer role was about as steady as a wet paper bag. Enter Weaver — cool, collected, nasty stuff, and a bulldog mentality. He didn’t inherit the role. He seized it. He wasn’t propped up by analytics or public relations puff pieces. He just flat-out earned it.

So, what did the Yankees do? Naturally, they went shopping, cause their freaking clueless.

In swoops Devin Williams, a guy with a shiny résumé and a pitching arsenal that looks great on Pitching Ninja GIFs. The Yankees, desperate to make a splash in the offseason — whether it made baseball sense or not — decided they needed another closer. 

And what did Williams do? Well, first, he told the world he “didn’t feel like himself,” and blamed part of his struggles on — get this — shaving his beard. Yes, apparently the secret to his effectiveness was not a wicked changeup or clean mechanics, but facial hair.

Meanwhile, Luke Weaver kept dominating.

Then, predictably, Aaron Boone happened. Weaver, thanks to Boone’s patented “run my best arm into the ground” strategy, strained his hamstring warming up in the Dodger Stadium bullpen. The Yankees were forced to turn back to Williams — who, credit where it’s due, has been solid lately. Four-for-four in save chances, eight strikeouts in 5.2 innings, even three Ks today. Not bad.

But here’s the thing: Weaver’s back. Or he will be tomorrow. Ahead of schedule, by the way — because that’s what dogs do. He’s already beaten the projected recovery timeline, and let’s not forget, when he went down, he was rocking a 1.05 ERA with eight saves.

So now the million-dollar question: what will the Yankees do?

If you’ve watched this team long enough, you already know. Prediction? They’re going to keep Williams in the closer role — not because he’s the better option, but because he’s the more expensive option. Weaver will get some “easing back in” label slapped on him, and be quietly shuffled into a setup role, while the team hopes fans forget he was the best closer on the roster before the hamstring tweak.

Why? Because this front office operates like a luxury brand: if they costs more, they must play. Boone won’t fight it. He’s not calling the shots. He’s just nodding along, managing by committee, afraid to make waves as long as the turnstiles keep spinning.

And guess what? As long as Yankee Stadium is full with all of you, mediocrity is profitable.

That’s why I haven’t been to the Bronx in two years. These are still my Yankees — but not this version, not this front office, and definitely not this manager. I’m not paying premium prices to watch a team that insists on rewarding contracts over performance.

Luke Weaver should close. But with this regime? Don’t hold your breath.

Welcome to the Bronx — where the bullpen decisions are corporate, the excuses are bearded, and the fans? 

We’re getting tired of being the only ones who remember what winning championships used to look like.