A WORLD IN WHICH ANTHONY RIZZO IS OUR YANKEES MANAGER

I’ll admit it: sometimes I catch myself daydreaming about the glorious day Aaron Boone finally gets canned. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not cheering against the Yankees — I’m cheering against their manager. Boone’s brand of “leadership” has been little more than press conference word salad paired with in-game mismanagement. The man has made the Yankees allergic to consistency. This team doesn’t play with urgency unless their backs are stapled to the wall, and that’s a reflection of a manager who has spent years lowering the bar.

What I’m waiting for is that perfect “not good enough” moment — when Hal Steinbrenner takes a look at his bottom line and realizes he only made millions this year instead of billions. That’s when I want him to say, “Boone, you’re gone.” And with Anthony Rizzo’s retirement announcement, I couldn’t help but think: what if Rizzo is the guy who finally replaces him?

Here’s the thing about Rizzo — he’s the anti-Boone. Rizzo has leadership in his bones. He was never just a first baseman; he was a clubhouse general, a player guys rallied around. He wasn’t just about stats (though, let’s be clear, his career had plenty of those too). He was about presence, about grit, about setting a tone. Even through struggles and injuries, he commanded respect. That’s something Boone has never once inspired in pinstripes. Boone gets eye-rolls; Rizzo got buy-in.

Rizzo’s résumé speaks for itself: four Gold Gloves, a Platinum Glove, a Silver Slugger, three All-Star nods, the Roberto Clemente Award, and of course his role in the Cubs’ 2016 World Series — a championship that ended a 108-year drought and cemented him as a legend in Chicago. And let’s not forget, the Yankees got the benefit of his leadership too. He may not have been the same hitter in the later years of his career — the concussion robbed him of that — but his influence in the clubhouse was always there. Rizzo wasn’t just a player, he was a culture-setter.

Contrast that with Boone, whose managerial style feels like it was downloaded from a malfunctioning analytics spreadsheet. His bullpen decisions alone could qualify as a new form of baseball torture. He’s the king of excuses, the maestro of mediocrity, the pilot of a ship that keeps circling the drain. Under his so-called guidance, the Yankees are on the verge of missing the playoffs again — and somehow we’re supposed to keep pretending he’s the right man for the job?

Now imagine Rizzo in that dugout, not with a glove but with a lineup card. Picture him commanding respect, actually holding players accountable, and bringing that edge that’s been missing since the Joe Torre days. The Yankees don’t need a cheerleader clapping in the dugout; they need a leader who players want to follow. Rizzo fits that mold perfectly.

Look, my dream scenario is still Don Mattingly as manager with Jorge Posada as his right-hand man — that’s pure Yankee nostalgia heaven. But if Rizzo is ready to trade in his batting gloves for a manager’s uniform, I’d take him in a heartbeat. He has the pedigree, the credibility, and the leadership chops Boone has never had.

Rizzo will forever be a Cubs legend, no doubt about it. But what if his second act is in the Bronx, not as a player, but as the man who rescues the Yankees from Boone’s clown show of a tenure? That wouldn’t just be an upgrade — it would be a revolution.