'HERO' MCMAHON WITH A 2 HANDED SWING & GROUNDED!

It's a great thing when you fix your hitting mechanics, isn't it? Ryan McMahon was grounded, in his legs, his bottom half & top half worked together... and he swung with both hands.   Say Halleluiah, Say Amen.

And what does Aaron Boone have to say about all this? Strap in for another masterpiece of empty-calorie philosophy—something along the lines of: baseball is hard, adversity builds character, good players are good. "Put a good swing on it on a crazy night." Simpleton. Riveting stuff. Truly groundbreaking analysis. You’d get more insight from a fortune cookie.

That’s the issue. Boone talks like a motivational poster when the moment actually calls for awareness. This wasn’t some vague “trust the process” situation—this was real, tangible adjustment happening in real time, and he sounds like he’s narrating a rain delay.

Because the moment for Ryan McMahon? That was massive. Not symbolic—mechanical. The kind of thing that actually changes outcomes. His swing had been out of sync for weeks—top half flying open, lower half lagging behind, everything disconnected. And then last night? Something clicked. He worked to fix it.

This didn’t come out of nowhere either. McMahon was grinding in the cage for half the game before he even saw the field, then steps in after replacing Amed Rosario in the eighth with the New York Yankees barely holding a lead. That’s not a casual at-bat.

Meanwhile, Cam Schlittler was dealing—six-plus innings, one unearned run, carving through the first 11 hitters like it was a spring training scrimmage. The game had that flat, lifeless feel offensively after Ben Rice went deep earlier. By the eighth, it looked like another quiet, quick inning was coming.

Then Rice keeps it alive with a single—again—and suddenly the whole inning pivots. McMahon steps in, and instead of that disjointed mess we’ve been watching, the swing is finally synced. Lower half fires, hands stay back, barrel stays through the zone, 2 hands on the bat—and boom. That’s not luck. That’s correction.

And somehow, the broader conversation from Boone completely misses it.

This wasn’t “he battled” or “he stayed with it.” This was a hitter actively fixing a broken sequence and getting immediate payoff in a huge spot. That’s the story. Not Boone’s recycled sermon.

If McMahon sticks with that connection and doesn’t drift back into bad habits, this could be a turning point—not just a nice moment.

Big swing. Big adjustment.  Everything Boone somehow managed not to say properly.

Nice win!