THE END WE KNEW WAS COMING

 Flat. Weak. Complacent.  

Sure, the Yankees showed some life at times, but ultimately Aaron Boone couldn't lead the Yankees to a championship, just like so many of us have believed this season as well as the previous ones. Losers are not winners overnight, and Aaron Boone will never be a champion as a Yankee manager. Why? He lacks the stones, the courage and the mindset to lead a team of stars. He doesn't command respect. In fact, he's a caricature of himself at this point. He's a goon.

The decision-making this season was a dumpster fire wrapped in pinstripes. The daily lineups? A tragic guessing game gone wrong. Watching Aaron Judge step to the plate in the post season became a desperate prayer — “please, Judge, hit one 600 feet so we can pretend everything else isn’t collapsing.” And the bullpen? Forget it. They fell apart like a cheap lawn chair in a hurricane.

And look, I called this back in January 2025 — the Yankees’ started pitching was never as “reliable” as the front office wanted you to believe. Maybe they did know it and that’s why they went rummaging through the bargain bin for “foreclosures” at the trade deadline. Either way, this team didn’t have the horsepower, the depth, or the guts to go deep into October. Period.

Sure, there were some nice moments this year — but for me, this was one of the worst seasons to endure as a fan. I didn’t rush to buy tickets. I didn’t care to go to the Stadium. Why? Because this front office and this manager have mastered the art of complacency. For the Yankees, 2025 wasn’t about championships — it was about cash registers. As long as the seats were full and the beers were $16, who cares about the standings, right? You all kept spending. And what did you get out of it?

I’m sorry, but I can’t keep feeding the beast. I love the guys on the roster, I really do — but I cannot, for the life of me, understand what Brian Cashman and Aaron Boone are doing every single day. It’s embarrassing. And as the Blue Jays popped champagne on our turf tonight, the truth stared us in the face: they were the better team. All season.

You can lie to yourself and say the Yankees were “great,” but anyone who watched this team knows the truth. Anthony Volpe was handed shortstop duties like a participation trophy, delivering automatic outs daily. This post season he struck out 14 times. Austin Wells? Bless him, but watching him claw his way to a .219 average was painful. Meanwhile, better bats collected dust on the bench because Boone preferred his “marketing plan” players — the faces on the posters, not the ones who could actually produce.

This wasn’t a great Yankees team, folks. It wasn’t even a good one. Hal Steinbrenner spent August and September playing the quiet game — not a word, not a statement, just radio silence while his empire smoldered. And give it a few days — he’ll surface, mutter something like, “The fans deserve better,” and then… poof. Nothing changes.

The fans do deserve better. Tonight was ugly, but honestly, so was the entire ALDS. Even when Max Fried was dealing, it didn’t matter — the offense flatlined. And how fitting is it that the one guy fans pinned their hopes on in Game 4 was Cam Schlittler, the rookie? Kid’s got guts, no doubt, but this isn’t Disney. He’s young, he’s learning — and this organization was banking on him to save them.

This season never had consistency. And that comes back to leadership — or in our case, the lack of it. No one on this team looks ready to run through a wall for Aaron Boone. He’s not a motivator; he’s a nap with a lineup card. If he had any real grasp of the game, Anthony Volpe would’ve been benched months ago.

But here we are. The game is over. The series is over. The season is over. And the Yankees, once again, are not winners.

This team needs to tear it down and rebuild the coaching staff from the ground up. Boone has to go. Cashman needs a sabbatical — preferably one that lasts forever. Because what we’re watching isn’t the Yankees of pride and power — it’s the Yankees of participation ribbons and postgame excuses.

To all the Bleeding Yankee Blue fans who suffered through this season with me — I feel you. You listened to my rants about our weak shortstop, our clueless manager, and our front office that’s allergic to accountability. You stuck around, and that means everything to me.

We may be frustrated, angry, and exhausted, but we’re Yankee fans. That still means something. We love this team too much to stay quiet. We demand better — and we won’t stop until they finally give it to us.

Bleeding Yankee Blue forever. Yanks forever.

Fire Boone! The worst and softest manager I have ever seen.