BELLINGER IS KEEPING US ALL GUESSING

I hate the games within the game. Baseball used to be simple: pitch the ball, hit the ball, pray the bullpen doesn’t spontaneously combust. But thanks to Scott Boras—Baseball’s Self-Appointed Emperor of Drama—we now have offseasons that feel like hostage negotiations run by a guy who thinks he’s starring in Succession.

Let’s get one thing straight: Scott Boras absolutely wrecked the sport’s sanity. Oh, he’s phenomenal at getting his clients rich. Nobody disputes that. If you’re a player and you want a gold-plated jacuzzi installed in your contract, Boras is your guy. He will squeeze every owner until they’re begging for mercy and signing checks with shaky hands. But if you're a fan? Forget it. Boras has turned free agency into a months-long opera where every aria ends with, “Sources say he’s considering all 30 teams.”

He’s great for his players, sure. But for baseball? He’s like putting greased wheels on a runaway shopping cart and rolling it down a hill.

Look at Pete Alonso. Boras pushed him so hard last year he practically emerged from negotiations like a bag of overworked laundry—wrinkled, mishandled, and marked “fragile.” By the time the dust settled, Alonso could only swing a one-year deal with the Mets. Why? Because Boras dragged him through a circus so long that teams just watched from afar, sipping coffee and whispering, “Yeah… we’re good.”

Then Alonso said “enough,” walked himself back to Queens, and delivered a monster season—because he took control. Not Boras. Alonso saved Alonso.

Now we pivot to Cody Bellinger, whose offseason story already feels like it was co-written by Boras and a malfunctioning Instagram algorithm.

Let’s run down what we actually know:

• Bellinger is a free agent.

• He was a Yankee.

• The Yankees would like him back.

• That’s it. That’s the whole plot so far.

And then he posts a photo of himself in a blank, logo-less hat—basically the baseball equivalent of entering the Witness Protection Program—and now we’re left squinting at social media like it’s a Dan Brown novel. Anytime Boras is involved, everything feels like a coded message:
Is he hinting at something? Is he trolling? Are we supposed to “decode” the hat?

Meanwhile, the Yankees—masters of slowness, champions of hesitation, pioneers of dragging things out until other teams actually finish their business—continue to “monitor the situation.” Cashman says he wants Bellinger back. And sure, he says it with conviction… but he said he wanted pitching for the last five years and somehow still ended up signing guys who need immediate Tommy John brochures printed for them.

Other teams—the Dodgers, the Mets—are already lurking with actual intent. You know, that thing the Yankees used to have before Cashman started approaching offseasons like a man shopping for a winter coat but refusing to buy one until spring arrives.

And here’s the kicker: Bellinger isn’t some middle-of-the-road gamble. The guy mashed in 2025:
.272 average, 29 homers, 98 RBIs, 89 runs across 152 games.
At Yankee Stadium? He basically turned the place into his personal amusement park:
.909 OPS, 18 bombs in 80 games.

Defensively? He was great—center field, left field, right field, first base. Plug him anywhere and he excels. He was good for the Yankees, great for the Bronx, and honestly one of the rare Cashman acquisitions that didn’t require an apology letter later.

But here we go again:
Boras playing chess while pretending it’s 4D underwater reverse chess.
Cashman sitting there staring at the board like the pieces might move on their own.
Yankees fans waiting like we’re in line at the DMV.

Will Boras inflate Bellinger’s market into the stratosphere? Probably.
Will Cashman drag his feet until the Dodgers or Mets swoop in? Wouldn’t shock a soul.
Will this turn into another offseason where the Yankees act like they have all the time in the world while every other team is out there actually doing things? Almost certainly.

So now we wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.

All because Scott Boras loves long, dramatic offseasons…
And Brian Cashman loves moving at the speed of a chilled glacier.

Baseball deserves better.
The Yankees need Bellinger.
The Bronx wants Bellinger.

But will this front office actually beat Boras’ game for once?
Or will they get played—again?

Pull up a chair. The circus is in town.

IS LUKE WEAVER ON THE MOVE?

I loved when Luke Weaver parachuted into the Bronx and suddenly turned into Mariano Rivera’s chaos-loving cousin. The man stumbled into the closer role, found his rhythm, and started mowing dudes down like he’d been born on the mound at Yankee Stadium. Clay Holmes didn’t just lose the closer role—he gently backed away from it like someone who realized, “You know what? Maybe being a setup guy isn’t the worst thing.” It was a win-win. Weaver won the closer spot and Holmes found his footing again. It was pure gold.

And then came 2025, and Brian Cashman fucked it all up, by trading for Devin Williams, injecting unnecessary chaos into a bullpen that was finally stable. Suddenly we’re all sitting here questioning just how galaxy-brain stupid Cashman can get when he tries. Spoiler: pretty stupid.

Now Weaver’s a free agent, and while I would absolutely love to see him back in pinstripes, you can bet actual money that deep down—way past the interviews and the polite quotes—he’s thinking about how the Yankees treated him last season. And who could blame him?

Bleacher Report’s Joel Reuter is already out here tossing out predictions that the Padres might swoop in for Weaver—not to close, but to start. The role he had before the Yankees turned him into a bullpen superhero. And shockingly, Weaver isn’t shutting the door on being a starter again.

“I would say, look, the door is open,” Weaver said about starting. “I am never going to just say ‘absolutely not.’ Like, ‘Hey, when the time comes, let’s talk about it. What does that look like?’”

Honestly? Now I’m fascinated. I want to see where this goes. I’m still a huge Weaver guy, but the Yankees absolutely wrecked his vibe in 2025. He needs to get back to that crisp, swagger-filled 2024 version—for New York, preferably—but who knows?

Stay tuned. The Luke Weaver Redemption Tour might be headed for the Bronx… or San Diego… we just gotta see. One this for sure though, I don't want him to leave New York. 

TIM HILL GETS HONORED & IT'S KIND OF A BIG DEAL

Baseball rivalries can get hot enough to boil the resin bag, but every now and then the sport steps back, wipes the eye black off its face, and remembers that humanity is actually bigger than Yankees–Red Sox nonsense. And nothing proves that more than Boston — of all teams — handing an honor to a Yankees reliever. If that doesn’t signal the universe soft-resetting, I don’t know what will.

The Red Sox named Tim Hill the 2025 Tony Conigliaro Award winner, an award reserved for players who embody spirit, determination, and the kind of courage Conigliaro carried like a badge. And Tim Hill? He doesn’t just embody those traits — he practically defines them.

This man fought through eight months of chemotherapy after a stage 3 colon cancer diagnosis in 2015. Eight. Months. Of hell — and he still clawed his way back. On top of that, he’d already endured the loss of his father, Jerry, to the same disease in 2007. Later, he learned he had Lynch syndrome, a condition that increases cancer risk and would have broken a lesser human being. But not Tim Hill. The guy isn’t just resilient; he’s forged from whatever substance superheroes pretend they’re made of. I didn't know any of this. It just makes his story sweeter. 

“Tony’s story is one of determination and resilience, two qualities I have always admired,” Hill said. “One thing I’ve learned is that a little inspiration, along with determination, can go a long way. This award itself is a reminder that setbacks don’t have to define you.”

And here’s the wild part: as remarkable as his personal story is, Tim Hill’s performance on the mound since joining the Yankees might be just as impressive. New York grabbed him in June 2024, and he instantly stabilized the bullpen like he’d been there for years. A 2.05 ERA. An 18–9 K–BB ratio over 44 innings. Only one earned run allowed in 8⅓ playoff innings. You don’t stumble into numbers like that — you command them.

Tim Hill isn’t just one of my favorite relievers in the Yankees’ pen — he’s one of the most quietly invaluable players on the entire roster. He brings poise, innings, reliability, toughness, and a story that makes you stand a little taller just hearing it. He’s the guy who trots in from the bullpen and instantly makes you breathe easier.

Rivalries make baseball fun. But Tim Hill?
He makes baseball better. Congrats Timmy.

CUBS MAY BE IN ON WILLIAMS & I'M GOOD WITH THAT

I’ll be honest: Devin Williams to the Yankees always felt like inviting a raccoon into your kitchen because “maybe it’ll cook.” Unnecessary chaos. A vibes sinkhole. A self-inflicted wound we absolutely did not need going into 2025.

The Yankees would have been perfectly fine rolling with the bullpen they had and making adjustments on the fly—shocking concept, I know. Instead, Brian Cashman decided to get cute and shipped off Caleb Durbin, a major-league-ready infielder who could’ve actually helped the Yankees in the spot they desperately needed help. And what did we get? A season of infield musical chairs, a bullpen that felt like a panic attack in real time, and Devin Williams… existing.

Honestly, I didn’t want him here. Still don’t.

But—maybe—the winds are shifting. The Athletic says the Cubs are rethinking how they build bullpens this winter, which is a polite way of saying: “We realized one-year deals for relievers is the baseball equivalent of duct-taping a broken chair.” They might even commit to multi-year deals for the right late-inning arms. No, not Edwin Díaz money, but real investment.

Naturally, Devin Williams—Counsell’s old Brewers closer—is on their radar, and apparently drawing enough interest that his next contract might stretch beyond what the Cubs are even comfortable with. They’re also sniffing around Pete Fairbanks. In other words: Chicago might actually give Counsell options instead of prayer candles.

So… what does that mean for the Yankees?

Simple: if Devin Williams packs up his changeup and leaves the Bronx, I will personally throw a parade. Streamers, confetti, the whole thing.

And let’s not pretend this saga hasn’t been a mess. Williams went through a full-blown confidence crisis this season and admitted it out loud after coughing up a loss to the Astros: “I stink right now.” He said he hasn’t felt like himself, hasn’t found his groove since Tommy John, and is basically fighting ghosts out there. This is not the energy you want anchoring your bullpen.

He’s a free agent after 2025, and of course Brian Cashman—king of familiarity hires and emperor of the “easy way out”—might try to bring him back. Why? Because it’s simple. Comfortable. Familiar. It’s classic Cashman: miss the big picture entirely, then pretend he’s playing 4-D chess while the rest of us are watching him knock over his own pieces.

Letting Williams walk would be the smartest thing the Yankees could do. His shaky performances made the bullpen wobbly, his beard policy drama created noise for no reason, and the whole thing even threw Luke Weaver out of sync. Domino effect chaos.

And sure, the Mets, Cubs, Dodgers, and Giants are reportedly interested in Williams. He’ll get his market. Some team will gamble on a bounce-back. Good for them.

Me? I’m praying the Yankees sleep through the entire bidding process. If Craig Counsell truly feels comfy cozy with Williams, then by all means—Chicago, come get your guy.

One less bullpen headache in the Bronx? Yes, please.

DYLAN CEASE JUST MADE THE BLUE JAYS EVEN BETTER

Us Yankee fans? We should be calling the Yankee complaint line on speed dial! 

The Yankees are once again standing around like they’re waiting for a bus that isn’t coming. I’ve been screaming—SCREAMING—for them to upgrade their pitching, because Gerrit Cole and Carlos Rodón aren’t walking through that door anytime soon unless it’s for an MRI. That leaves poor Max Fried abandoned on a desert island with nothing but a volleyball named Will Warren and Luis Gil as a sidekick.

That’s not a rotation. That’s a cry for help.

And don’t tell me this franchise is “competitive” or “serious.” Competitive teams actually try. Serious teams actually look at the players who can help them win. Meanwhile, Brian Cashman is out here running the Yankees like he’s blindfolded, spinning in circles, and pointing at names on a dartboard.

Because right there — RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM — was Dylan Cease.
A gift. A layup. A flashing, Vegas-sized billboard screaming, “HEY BRIAN, THIS IS A STARTING PITCHER YOU COULD SIGN.”

And what did Cashman do?
Absolutely nothing.
Didn’t even pretend to care.

You know who did open their eyes?
The Toronto Blue Jays — a team that apparently remembers how winning works. They handed Cease a seven-year, $210 million deal, per Jon Heyman, because they actually want to improve. They looked at their already-loaded rotation of Gausman, Berríos, Bieber, and Yesavage and said, “You know what? Let’s make this unfair.”

Cease has a fire, a competitive pulse, an actual starter’s mentality — all the things the Yankees desperately need and Cashman can’t seem to identify unless the guy is 36 years old and coming off Tommy John surgery.

But don’t worry: while Toronto is assembling a pitching Voltron, Cashman is showing off his big offseason move…

Yerry Rodríguez.
Stop the presses.

It’s embarrassing. It’s incompetent. It’s Cashman being Cashman — the GM who manages to walk past every obvious upgrade like he’s shopping with a grocery list he dropped down a sewer grate.

What a joke.

I'M DRUNK IN EPCOT MEXICO AGAIN, BUT VERY THANKFUL FOR WHAT I HAVE

Let me take you back—way back—to the legendary “Drunk-in-Epcot-Mexico” post I wrote for my buddy Mike’s birthday years ago. Here it is: "I'M DRUNK IN EPCOT MEXICO" & WHAT COMES NEXT. It was chaotic, it was tequila-fueled, and it made him laugh, which was the whole point. Because that’s what brothers do—we give each other stories worth retelling.

Mike and I have been friends since 1989. Nineteen. Eighty. Nine. We’ve been laughing at the same stupid inside jokes for decades, and they still hit like prime Bernie Williams lining one into the gap. Time hasn’t changed anything between us. We don’t see each other as much, sure. He doesn’t write for Bleeding Yankee Blue anymore, sure. But he reads every word, supports every rant, and we talk nearly every day—because that’s what real friendship looks like. No drama, no nonsense, no algorithm required.

This week, I found myself back in Orlando… back in Epcot… back in Mexico… and yes, after a couple of margaritas, right back thinking of Mike and laughing again. The last time I was there, my kids were three. Now they’re teenagers. Life moves fast—but the memories? Those stay parked exactly where you left them.

And yeah, here at Bleeding Yankee Blue, we still write about the Yankees every day—even if the current version of the front office tries its hardest to make us question all our life choices. The players? We love ’em. The franchise? Always. Competitiveness? Essential. The front office? A flaming bag of complacency on the doorstep of 161st Street. Mike and I share the same brain on that. Always have.

But here’s the truth that Thanksgiving forces you to slow down long enough to feel: all the rants, all the sarcasm, all the roasted marshmallow-hot takes… none of it matters half as much as the people behind it.

I’m thankful for Mike, who helped build Bleeding Yankee Blue with me back in the day. I’m thankful that no matter the miles, or the years, or the chaos, we zip right back into sync—especially during moments like this. I’m thankful that real friendship survives when Twitter threads, hot takes, and fake tough-guy commenters do not.

And I’m thankful for YOU—the BYB readers, the lifers, the loyal crew since September 14, 2010. Fifteen years later, you still show up. You still read. You still argue like civilized human beings, which is now rarer than a Yankees prospect developing into an actual star. Respectful banter is alive and well… just not on social media, where nuance goes to die.

That’s why I went underground again. Why BYB stayed clean, tight, smart, grassroots, and bullshit-free. Social media has turned people into loud, joyless, knee-jerk reactors… and I refuse to let BYB become another casualty of that nonsense. We keep it simple. We keep it classy. We keep it ours. That's why we're gone from those places... forever.

So, here’s the recap for Thanksgiving:

I’m thankful for our readers.
I’m thankful for the friendships.
I’m thankful for the BYB family and Jeana Bellezza Ochoa.

I’m thankful that we get to do this our way—zero filters, zero corporate buzzwords, zero drama.

And yes, Mike—I promised you another drunk Epcot Mexico post… and buddy, I delivered.

Love you, pal. Happy Thanksgiving to you and to every single BYB freak out there.

Thank you for your support.

TATSUYA IMAI IS THE BREATH OF FRESH AIR I WASN'T PAYING ATTENTION TO....UNTIL NOW!

Another Japanese player has posted to sign with a MLB team, that's no surprise. In fact, when the news first broke that it was happening I shrugged it off and didn't even spend ten seconds thinking about it. After all, the Yankees have not had any recent success in attracting Japanese talent to the Bronx. It feels like it has been forever and the idea of trying these days just feels silly.

But is it silly? I'm not going to hold my breath just yet because Tatsuya Imai is still in the middle of a 45-day posting window and even though the Yankees are "in the mix" we have all heard that story before. The Yankees are always tied to every big name on the free agent market and potential trade bait players. That isn't going to change anytime soon, but something else just might....

Right now the Dodgers are the mecca of Japanese baseball players with Shohei Ohtani, Yoshinobu Yamamoto and Roki Sasaki all on their roster. It's an assumption now that any Japanese stud is going to end up in Dodger blue, but Imai would rather play against them and beat them then suit up with them, read more HERE. 

It's refreshing to hear that, honestly. I was in that mindset of "oh he's just going to be a Dodger too" and didn't even entertain the idea of him playing anywhere else, let alone the Yankees. But he doesn't want to be one of them instead he would rather experience "winning against a team like that and becoming a world champion would be the most valuable thing in my life. If anything, I'd rather take them down."

And isn't that what we all want? The Dodgers have won two championships in a row. They are focused on being the next dynasty.... you know that thing we used to have. I'm focused on not only winning but also making sure they don't get that dynasty they are looking for.

 Imai sounds like he has the confidence on the field and off the field to do that. We've heard a lot about comraderies being important to Japanese stars coming over here. The Dodgers can certainly give that, but Imai doesn't want that. "If there were another Japanese player on the same team, I could just ask them about anything, right?" Imai said. "But that's actually not what I'm looking for. In a way, I want to experience that sense of survival. When I come face-to-face with cultural differences, I want to see how I can overcome them on my own -- that's part of what I'm excited about."

And reading that excites me, honestly. This guy sounds like a gamer. He's not afraid of making it in a new country and culture and figuring things out on his own. I think it is refreshing and actually makes me interested in him now. He sounds like the type of gamer we need on this team. 

So now he's piqued my interest at least. Even if the Yankees don't sign him, the fact that he wants to play against the Dodgers and beat them piques my interest. I wish the Yankees could target these players that have the confidence, attitude and skill....it could be a game changer.

So, I wasn't paying attention to Imai before.... but now I am. Even if we don't sign him, I will just be happy if he stays away from Los Angeles. But seriously, Hal Steinbrenner I know you are paying attention to this.....open up your wallet and go get him! 

--Jeana Bellezza-Ochoa

BYB Senior Managing Editor

Twitter: @nyprincessj

YANKS JUST SIGNED A PITCHER. YEA... GO BACK TO BED

Yankees fans just want a breather, man. Is that too much to ask? We’d love — LOVE — to sit down at Thanksgiving and talk about actual baseball players with actual name recognition instead of debating for the 900th straight holiday whether Aaron Boone is a manager or a life-sized marionette. (Spoiler: he’s a full-blown puppet. Jim Henson couldn’t have crafted a more compliant character.)

But of course, it’s late November, which means Brian Cashman has retreated into his natural habitat: the Bargain Bin Jungle. You know the vibe — he emerges with an armful of depth pieces no one’s ever heard of, proudly calling it an “arsenal,” while the rest of us call it exactly what it is: a curated collection of future DFA candidates.

Sure, if there’s any money left after Cashman loads up on mystery pitchers and waiver-wire fossils, maybe — maybe — we land Cody Bellinger and an actual frontline starter to help Max Fried. One can dream. Yankees fans specialize in dreaming; it’s what replaces championships these days.

Anyway… the newest “move.”

According to MLB’s transaction ledger, the Yankees signed 28-year-old right-hander Yerry Rodríguez to a minor-league deal. Yes, that Yerry Rodríguez — the one released by the Pirates, didn’t pitch in affiliated ball all year, bounced between the Rangers and Blue Jays, and is currently elbow-deep in Tommy John rehab. The plan? Be ready by midsummer. The reality? Flip a coin.

As Yanks Go Yard summed it up beautifully:

Best case: the Yankees discover something magically fixable in his footage, he taps into some hidden ceiling, and suddenly he’s getting real high-leverage work like a modern-day bullpen Lazarus. 

Worst case: rehab goes sideways, Year 1 melts into Year 2, and he vanishes into the same void where former “intriguing minor-league depth” goes to die.

In other words: either he’s a miracle or a memory.

So yeah. Another Yankees signing.
Another lottery ticket.
Another footnote we’ll probably never mention again.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone — enjoy the depth.

SO, WELLS IS ALLEGEDLY TIPPING PITCHES NOW?

Low batting average, below average catcher... possibly tipping pitches. Sounds awful.

So now the baseball world is whispering—no, snickering—about whether Austin Wells is tipping pitches. This came out earlier in the week. I am just catching up. 

Former MLB pitcher Joe Ausanio and every self-appointed slow-motion-video guru on Twitter swear they’ve cracked the code: apparently Wells nods his head like a bobblehead on a pothole when he wants a changeup and keeps it still for a fastball. Wonderful. Just what we needed: a catcher who turns pitch-calling into interpretive dance.

Now, yes, this “tell” hasn’t been proven. It’s not science. It’s barely science fiction. But honestly? Do we even need proof? If someone told me Wells was accidentally holding up flashcards that says “FASTBALL COMING,” I’d shrug and say, “Yeah, that tracks.”

Because here’s the truth: anything involving Austin Wells messing up feels on-brand at this point to me. My eye test didn’t just fail him—it flat-out refused to grade the assignment. The Yankees shoved him into the big leagues like they were rushing out a product that wasn’t finished, and surprise! It performs like a product that wasn’t finished.

Wells’ 2025 season? A masterpiece of mediocrity.
• A .219 batting average that should come with a parental advisory label.
• Exit velocity falling off a cliff, waving goodbye on the way down.
• A batted-ball profile that screams “weak contact enthusiast.”
• A platoon role he’s clearly allergic to.
• And a nerve issue in his catching hand—because of course the one thing he needs most is malfunctioning. Hey, I guess you gotta blame something.  But if he hand is messed up, then why the hell are we running this guy out there every game?

Let’s stop pretending there was ever some blossoming star here. The hype around Wells evaporated faster than soda on hot pavement in my opinion. One minute he was “the next great Yankees catcher,” and the next minute he’s… well… Austin Wells.

And while we’re handing out blame, let’s not forget the real criminal masterminds here: the Yankees’ scouting and drafting department, who continue to evaluate players with all the success rate of someone throwing darts blindfolded in the dark during an earthquake. They hyped Wells, they rushed him, and now they’re gaslighting us into believing that he's fine, it's us!

Meanwhile Ben Rice, the backup, the understudy at catcher… is outplaying Wells. By a lot. When your backup catcher looks like Buster Posey compared to your starter, something has gone horribly wrong.

So, is Wells tipping pitches? Unconfirmed. But is Wells playing terribly? Oh, that’s confirmed. In triplicate. With a notary stamp.

And are the Yankees once again exposing how their drafting decisions belong in a museum next to “Failed Experiments of the 21st Century”? Absolutely.

At this point, the only thing Wells is tipping is the rest of us off that the Yankees' player-evaluation system desperately needs a reboot.

THE RED SOX ARE ALREADY AHEAD OF THE YANKEES THIS OFF SEASON!

The Red Sox have already gone out and upgraded their rotation. The Yankees? We’re over here lighting candles and hoping Carlos Rodón and Gerrit Cole remember how to throw baseballs in time to help Max Fried. For now, the Yankees’ rotation is basically one ace and two question marks wearing ice packs. And yes—that’s sarcasm.

Why are the Yankees always fashionably late when it comes to addressing their biggest needs? There is zero debate: they need another legit starter behind Fried. There’s no guarantee Cole comes back as Cole, or that Rodón stops pitching like he’s being haunted by 2023. Something has to happen—because the Red Sox already did something.

Boston just pulled off their first real offseason swing, bringing in Sonny Gray from the Cardinals accoding to reports. Now, sure, Yankee fans will roll their eyes and say, “We had Sonny Gray, remember? Dumpster fire.” Fair point—but that was baby Sonny. That was Sonny fresh out of the wrapper, overwhelmed, overcoached, and allergic to throwing what he was actually good at.

This Sonny? He’s older, tougher, smarter, and, frankly, really good. Laugh all you want—Boston filled a need, and they filled it with a guy who knows how to pitch in big moments.

Gray slots in as a rock-solid No. 2 behind Garrett Crochet on a Sox team trying to win right now. They didn’t gut their farm system, they got cash in the deal, and they added a pitcher who posted a 5.29 K/BB ratio last season—fourth-best in MLB—and cleared 180 innings. That’s not “Yankees Sonny Gray.” That’s “You’re-gonna-hate-facing-him Sonny Gray.” Boston made a legitimately smart move.

Meanwhile, the Yankees have Fried… and then a couple of pitchers whose injury updates sound like Yelp reviews. “Getting better… slowly… maybe.” No one knows if Cole or Rodón will be ready for Opening Day.

So right now the rotation looks like:
Fried, Warren, Gil… and a prayer.

Yikes.

OUT OF TOUCH HAL STEINBRENNER JUST MADE IT WORSE

Hal Steinbrenner appeared on a video call this week looking like a man who just realized fans know math. He announced, in his signature soft-spoken “please don’t yell at me” tone, that it’s still too early to know the 2026 payroll. But—don’t worry!—he’d like it to be lower than the $319 million spent in 2025.

“Would it be ideal if I went down?” Hal mused, as if he were deciding between yacht sizes. “Of course. But does that mean that’s going to happen? Of course not. We want to field a team we believe can win a championship.”

Believe. That’s the key word with this ownership group. Believe. Wish. Hope. Pray. Manifest. Burn sage. Sacrifice a chicken. Anything but build an actual roster that wins the World Series.

The problem? Belief hasn’t delivered a title since 2009. That was 16 seasons ago. A whole human being has gone from diapers to high school in the time it’s taken Hal Steinbrenner to figure out that pitching depth matters.

Instead of acknowledging the colossal failures of the front office—which fans have been screaming about, writing about, tweeting about, billboard-ing about—Hal chose instead to protect Aaron Boone like he’s wrapping the last candle on a birthday cake.

Boone, Hal insists, is “a good manager at many of the things he has to do.” Translation: he fills out a lineup card and remembers to file an HR report after every ejection.

But the actual losing? According to Hal, that’s on the players. Not Cashman for building another roster with holes you could drive an Amtrak through. Not Boone for managing like he’s trying to win a participation ribbon at a middle school science fair. Not the organization that keeps trotting out the same stale formulas, training methods, and analytics that worked exactly once—eleven years ago.

And this is exactly the kind of thing Bleeding Yankee Blue has been calling out for years. We aren’t a corporate mouthpiece. We’re the bellowing megaphone of the fanbase—the only entity that holds this team accountable because the Yankees sure as hell don’t hold themselves accountable. BYB has ripped into Cashman’s complacency, Boone’s cookie-cutter mediocrity, and Hal’s tone-deaf billionaire logic long before the mainstream media grew the guts to do it.

We’re not writers pretending to be above the fray. We’re fans. Paying fans. Fans who don’t get comped seats behind the dugout—we sit with the people who spend a month’s rent for two beers, a hot dog, and a parking spot.

So when Hal starts lecturing the fanbase about expenses, we’re allowed to laugh right in his face.

According to Forbes, the Yankees raked in over $700 million in revenue in 2025. Hal, however, says that’s “not fair or accurate” because nobody talks about expenses—like the $100 million annual payment to New York City.

Right. Because we were all sitting here thinking, “Gee, I hope the Steinbrenner family is doing okay financially.” Poor Hal. Barely scraping by. Just a humble billionaire trying to keep the lights on and the stadium sushi fresh.

Meanwhile, fans are spending:

-$80 for a nosebleed ticket
-$40 for a beer that tastes like regret
-$150 for a jersey with a player's name who’ll be DFA’d in three months
-$65 for parking unless you want to risk your car in a pothole the size of Mariano Rivera
-And a small fortune for food, merch, and a commemorative cup we never asked for

The Yankees aren’t hurting. They’re swimming in cash like Scrooge McDuck. And yet somehow, we’re supposed to believe they can’t go the extra mile for a roster upgrade?

Then look at the ACTUAL moves so far:

Paid Trent Grisham $22 million—the most expensive “insurance policy” in baseball history.  Added Ryan Yarbrough—because apparently the Yankees just had to get another soft-tossing lefty. Non-tendered relievers like someone cleaning out expired yogurt. And still haven’t fixed left field. Because why fix something that’s been broken since Brett Gardner's first retirement?

For a team that claims it “needs” outfield help and bullpen help, they are sprinting headfirst into February acting like everything will magically come together if they manifest hard enough. Oh, and Cody Bellinger? Hal declined to comment. Which is rich, because he doesn’t seem shy about commenting on everything else.

This is the same owner who said he was “confused” by fan frustration during a midseason stretch so bad it made the 2013–2016 era look like the 1927 Yankees. Confused! As if the booing wasn’t loud enough for him to hear from Tampa.

This is also the same owner who defended Brian Cashman’s job security by saying “he has earned the right to stay.” Earned? In what universe? If any of us delivered the kind of results Cashman has delivered since 2009, we’d be escorted out of our workplaces with a cardboard box and a security guard.

And this is the same owner who blamed a 2025 ALDS exit on the players—never the people who built a roster with:

-No depth
-No stability
-No left field
-No October identity
-And no plan other than “maybe Gerrit Cole saves us again”

So here’s the truth nobody in the Yankees’ front office wants to hear:

Yankees fans are done with excuses. We’re done with lectures. We’re done with tone-deaf billionaires crying poor. And we’re done being treated like we don’t know the difference between a real championship blueprint and the same broken strategy the Yankees keep recycling.

If Hal Steinbrenner doesn’t want to invest in the Yankees like the powerhouse they used to be, then maybe it’s time for someone else to step in—someone who actually cares about winning instead of profits, optics, tax thresholds, and PR spin.

Because right now?

Hal is complacent. Cashman is stale. Boone is overmatched. And the Yankees, the greatest franchise in sports history, are a $7-billion machine being run like a thrift store version of Moneyball.

If Hal wants to keep acting confused, out of touch, and allergic to urgency, then maybe he should finally do what fans have been whispering for years:

Sell the team.

Until then, Bleeding Yankee Blue will keep saying what the front office won’t: Yankees fans deserve better than this. And we’re not shutting up anytime soon.

LET THE YANKEES BULLPEN BLOW UP BEGIN!

Of the many things that just didn't go right last season, the bullpen was no exception. In hopes that we don't have to relive that experience again, we can rejoice in a brief moment knowing the bullpen is getting a giant makeover. I wonder what the final reveal will look like.

It should be a big change. The Yankees have three 2025 bullpen arms on the free agent market headlined by Devin Williams (Thank goodness for that), Luke Weaver and Jonathan Loaisiga in addition to five non-tendered arms. Now as long as Williams stays far away there should be some big changes coming.

The Yankees non-tendered Mark Leiter Jr., Scott Effross, Ian Hamilton and Jake Cousins, and minor league reliever Michael Arias ahead of the deadline to offer players contracts for 2026.  The Yankees need a major bullpen upgrade heading into next season because we cannot afford to have another repeat of what we just watched.

It's amazing how our offense had high rankings last season like first in runs, home runs and slugging percentage but our bullpen was at the bottom of the dumpster. A season prior the Yankees were sixth best to finishing at 23rd in the majors with a 4.37 ERA. It was a night and day difference that left me screaming at my television night after night.

On the surface, it sounds like a lot of men to replace in the bullpen but it's an addition by subtraction. Especially since I will no longer have to watch Leiter Jr blow a game and won't have to read about him being left off a postseason roster for a third straight season. 

So now Brian Cashman gets to focus on a full scale reclamation project and we get to sit back and hold our breath in terror. Now we just hope that they don't add a bunch of guys that the analytical nerds completely tarnish somehow. It's too bad they didn't release these guys a couple of days ago then they could’ve added some more rule 5 eligible players. 

I guess I have a dose of cynicism today. I'm glad we cut some dead weight, but Cashman's track record doesn't inspire a lot of confidence these days. Now he has plenty more reclamation prospects out there to claim. Let's just hope he doesn't chase after Joey Gallo who is making a comeback as a pitcher. That would be the next terrible nightmare......

--Jeana Bellezza-Ochoa

BYB Senior Managing Editor

Twitter: @nyprincessj

MAKE BELLINGER THE PRIORITY, THE REST WILL FOLLOW

Yankees fans aren’t just waiting for Cody Bellinger — they’re practically standing on the Bronx sidewalks holding cardboard signs that say “COME HOME, CODY.” Let me rephrase that with the appropriate urgency:

I want Cody Bellinger back. It’s non-negotiable. Essential. Mandatory. Life-support-level important.

But will we actually get him? Cashman opened his mouth and, in classic Cashman form, somehow managed to talk for a full minute while revealing absolutely nothing.

His quote (courtesy of the New York Post) boiled down to:

“Like anything else, there are certain salary levels that we’ll tag out at... That’s yet to be determined. But we’ve driven hard to get things done at times. We’ve driven hard and still not gotten things done because the markets … they go on and on and on and places you never expected. So you just don’t know how free agency’s going to work. So that’s why it’s so important for me to do what I’m always doing — what all GMs are doing — which is engaging your fellow GMs and the agents.”

Translation: The man said a whole paragraph and not one useful sentence.

Still, there’s no getting around it — Bellinger matters to this team. And no, we do not need Kyle Tucker. We don’t need to overthink this. Bellinger checks every box: pop in the bat, athleticism, defensive versatility, actual vibes, and the uncanny ability to look like he just rolled out of bed and still hit 29 bombs with 98 RBIs in his first season here. He played all three outfield spots, filled in at first base, and made it all look easy.

But of course… the Boras Factor.

According to NJ.com, Yankee ownership is preparing for a marathon negotiation with Scott Boras, which sounds about as fun as a root canal performed by a raccoon. One executive (whose team isn’t even in on Bellinger) put it perfectly:

“When you negotiate with Scott, you’re not in control. You’re just flying in his plane, hoping he doesn’t land you in a cornfield.”

And honestly? Same. I cannot stand Boras. If you watched the A-Rod documentary, you saw how he practically took a baseball icon and ran his career into a wall. The man negotiates like he’s trying to buy Monaco, not get a player a contract.

This is why I keep thinking:

Wouldn’t it be refreshing if Bellinger just pulled Boras aside and said, “Look, I like New York. My dad played here. This all fits. Don’t turn this into a sci-fi saga”?

Sure would.

And it’s not like Bellinger has been shy about liking the Yankees. He called the team fun, praised the clubhouse, and said wearing the uniform was “unbelievable.” He basically waved a neon sign that read I Wouldn’t Mind Staying.

So what happens now? Time — and Boras’s mood swings — will decide. But the Yankees would be foolish not to prioritize this. If Cashman can somehow avoid tripping over his own shoelaces and actually bring Bellinger back on a reasonable deal, the rest of the offseason could click right into place. Including the top-tier starting pitcher they desperately need.

And while we’re at it… if someone could please locate a shortstop who isn’t the human migraine known as Volpe?

Yeah. I’ll take that too.

YANKEES MAKE A SPLASH WITH ORNELAS

That is sarcasm.

’Tis the season for Brian Cashman’s annual bargain-bin Easter egg hunt — that magical time of year when he scours the baseball world not for stars, not for upgrades, but for depth. Glorious, unnecessary, “why are we doing this?” depth. And this week, he proudly placed another shiny trinket in the Yankees’ overflowing junk drawer: Jonathan Ornelas.

Per MLB.com’s transaction log, the Yankees scooped up Ornelas on a minor-league deal after he politely showed himself the door from free agency on November 6. Insider Francys Romero added that the deal comes with a spring training invite and a midseason opt-out if the Yankees don’t shove him onto their 40-man roster. Classic Cashman: sign him, stash him, shrug later.

And you just know what’s coming. By February, Cashman will trot out in front of the cameras with that “trust me, I’m a genius” energy and say, “Well, we made some moves, and I like the group we’ve assembled.” Meanwhile, somehow Bo Bichette will be strolling into Fenway wearing a Red Sox beanie, and the Yankees will be convincing themselves that Ryan McMahon is the second coming of DJ LeMahieu. It’s the same movie every offseason — Cashman’s love affair with spare parts instead of actual impact players.

Now, to Ornelas himself. His big-league résumé: 32 games across three seasons. His calling card? Defensive versatility. The guy has played everywhere except first, catcher, and pitcher — so that's good I guess. He was even the Rangers’ Minor League Defender of the Year in 2022. Sounds great… until you look at the offense.

A .208 career average. Fifty-three total MLB at-bats. Nine of them came in 2025, where he hit .222 — which is… well, numbers technically. Once again, the Yankees grab another perfectly nice human being who cannot, under any known circumstances, hit above .260. It’s a skill, honestly — not the players, the Yankees’ ability to find them.

So yes, it’s a minor-league deal. Yes, it probably won’t matter. But it’s also another tile in Cashman’s mosaic of mediocrity — a reminder that while other teams chase stars, we’re collecting utility gloves like they’re Pokémon.

Anyway… welcome to the circus, Jonathan. Best of luck. You’re gonna need it.

HARRISON BADER BACK IN PINSTRIPES? I AIN'T PLAYIN'

How would you feel about Harrison Bader swooping back into the Bronx as the Yankees’ ultimate high-energy, break-glass-in-case-of-emergency outfielder? Honestly, this wouldn’t just make sense — it would be fan-service at its finest. If the Yankees re-sign Cody Bellinger, and they’ve already got Trent Grisham, Aaron Judge, Jasson Domínguez, and soon-to-be skyscraper-of-an-outfielder Spencer Jones, then what’s missing? A right-handed defensive monster who plays with the intensity of someone trying to outrun a speeding taxi on 161st Street. That’s Bader, front to back.

And let's not forget what he actually did in New York — because some of you pretend like 2022 never happened. When Bader arrived at the deadline that year, people grumbled. Then October came, and suddenly he turned into the Bronx’s answer to Babe Ruth with Wi-Fi. The man hit five postseason homers in nine games, including absolute moonshots off elite playoff pitching. For a week and a half, he carried the Yankees’ offense like it was a duffel bag. Yankees fans practically had him fitted for a cape.

 

Defensively? Please. Healthy Harrison Bader was a GPS system with legs. In 2022 and early 2023, he made center field look small — diving catches, fearless routes, that ridiculous closing speed that made liners scream for help. The guy covered more ground than a New York real estate developer. And the energy? Through the roof. He played like every game was an audition to become the unofficial mayor of the Bronx.

Now he’s a free agent after turning down Philly’s $10 million option — fresh off a career-best season at the plate — and he’s looking for a multi-year deal. And honestly, if the Yankees want a right-handed hitter with elite defense, New York roots, and the vibe of a caffeinated superhero, Bader is sitting right there.

Sure, the Phillies want him back. Who wouldn’t want a gold-glove-caliber athlete with playoff pop, charisma, and locks worthy of a shampoo commercial? But if the Yankees want someone who’s proven he can thrive here — in October, no less — then Harrison Bader isn’t just an option.

He’s the perfect, high-energy, Bronx-approved choice. Bring him home and let him cause chaos in center field again.

THE BEST CALL OF THE YEAR DESTROYS BRIAN CASHMAN!

Look, I love my Yankees and I really think Brian Cashman and Aaron Boone are doing a terrible job with this Yankee team, but for the life of me, I'm certainly not gonna call into a radio show and I have way too much going on in my life to care that much about this team. I said it many times here and I'll say it again; the Front office doesn't know how to run this team and there needs to be a serious change of personnel up there. You don't go firing a guy like bullpen coach Mike Harkey and say "OK, we're fixing things." Mike Harkey sitting in the pen waiting for Boone to call is not the problem. 

And here's the worst part, we know who the problem is, and the front office and analytics department know it's them as well, but they are also in charge and as long as Hal Steinbrenner is not in the red and all you Yankee fans keep spending money on season tickets and merch and their stupid food, nothing will change.  I said after the season, you gotta boycott this team. Not for the players, we love the players. No... it's the front office... it's Cashman, it's Boone. It's them. Get rid of them, make an effort actually win, and then I'll come back. until then, nope.  By the way, read ENOUGH! LET'S BOYCOTT THE YANKEES TO CHANGE THIS TEAM'S FUTURE if you want more on that. I ain't wrong, Unc.

But back to this amazing fan. John from Maspeth. Great for radio, slightly embarrassing and yes, he hit on all the right points. When Trent Grisham happily pocketed the Yankees’ one-year, $22 million qualifying offer on Tuesday, a reward for the season where he suddenly morphed into a 34-homer wrecking ball. Sure, it’s a steep price tag, but the short-term deal... but still, money that should be spend elsewhere. 

But here comes John from Maspeth. The man heard the news about Grisham and immediately transformed into a human air-raid siren. He called up WFAN’s Evan Roberts and Tiki Barber to express his thoughts — or, more accurately, to unleash them — and let’s just say he didn’t hold back on his favorite punching bag, Brian Cashman. Listen to this:

Somebody check on John in Maspeth pic.twitter.com/tixrOzhBh2

— Awful Announcing (@awfulannouncing) November 19, 2025

John from Maspeth is right.  Look, the Yankees players for the most part are a decent team. Plus, if you kick Volpe and Wells to the curb, they are no question better.  But guys like Grisham? Not really needed.  Had a great season, his time is up in my opinion.  We need Bellinger... we need a solid starting pitcher.  The days of Will Warren are over. Nice kid, we need more certainty. I mean, let's get serious. Let's try and win a championship... not duct tape a roster together.  And so, I ask this question, just like John from Maspeth is asking every day, "What the hell is Brian Cashman doing?"

THE YANKEES NEED TO SNAG TARIK SKUBAL FROM THE TIGERS

There’s one pitcher out there who could wipe away the Yankees’ rotation headaches faster than a bottle of Advil: Tarik Skubal. And when someone like Jeff Passan raises an eyebrow and whispers, “Hey, this is actually doable if the Yankees feel like acting alive,” (I'm paraphrasing), you can only pray Brian Cashman isn’t off somewhere reorganizing his binder collection.

Passan even went so far as to say the Yankees have the juice to pull it off, noting that “New York’s got the upper-level pitching depth Detroit wishes it had.”

In other words: the Yankees can make this happen. The universe is teeing it up. Now we wait to see if Cashman actually swings.

If the Yankees believe they can lock up Skubal for the long haul, then yes—go ahead and throw open the farm-system vault. That’s the whole point of having prospects: eventually you trade some of them for someone who can actually help you win baseball games before the sun burns out. Passan even notes that Detroit isn’t clueless—they’re going to take the temperature of the market, because at some point they will have to move him.

As he puts it, “Teams aren’t about to cough up the moon if they can land a pitcher who’s three-quarters of Skubal at half the cost.” Translation: no one’s overpaying unless the alternatives dry up. Until then, the Tigers will sit back, sip their lemonade, and watch every GM squirm.

So who would the Yankees actually part with? That’s the million-dollar, sleep-depriving question. Jones and Lombard Jr.? Don’t even bother asking. Those guys are more off-limits than the good snacks in Aaron Judge’s locker. But everyone else? Well… if you want a Cy Young–stacking, high-octane, unhittable lefty who’s still young and under control, then yes—everyone else is basically wearing a price tag.

Skubal is the kind of pitcher who instantly transforms a rotation from “Yeah, maybe they can hang” to “We will dominate.” He throws hard, he misses bats, he has the metrics that make front offices swoon, and he owns hardware to prove he’s not a one-year magic trick. Add in Fried, Cole, Rodon, Cam? I mean, we just won the 2026 World Series on paper!

Sure, the trade cost will make your eyes water—but guess what? The Yankees actually have the pieces. And more importantly, they need to remember what it feels like to be hungry. Hungry to win. Hungry to dominate. Hungry to stop watching October baseball from the comfort of their couches.

If you listen to Passan—and honestly, the man knows things—this is the guy.