And the hits just keep on coming, huh? We can't catch a break. Just when we think it's getting better the other shoe drops. The rug is ripped out from under us. Pick a cliche, any cliche you like because ladies and gentlemen that is exactly where we are as we inch closer and closer to September.
I guess we could go with "There's always next year" or "We can chase number 28 in 2027" for right now. The state of the Yankees pitching staff is arm-ageddon right now. My heart sank when Max Fried hit the injured list, and as much as we don't need to see another arm like Fernando Cruz suffer the same fate I'm not surprised. I am tired of it though.
This team just doesn't demonstrate fundamentals or execute like other top teams in the league. We can't stay healthy. When our starting pitchers get past the fourth inning it feels like a miracle. Our starters can't get deep into games and then our relievers are coming into games too often and expected to clean up the mess that was left for them and eventually it catches up to guys. That could be what happened to Cruz.
Back in April, May and June, Aaron Boone was running him out on the mound constantly. His early success earned him a setup role to David Bednar and lately, he's looked like a shell of himself. The splitter doesn't split like it did, the fastball isn't as fast and the slider doesn't move the same. He's already pitched 54.2 innings this season, and his career high was 66.2 innings. He's 36 and not a young spring chicken anymore. We've seen it with the home runs he's given up and blown leads recently.
And this is why Brian Cashman needed to add stability at the trade deadline and find us some fresh arms. He failed. The Yankees are failing, because they aren't meeting expectations. They are in danger of falling further in the standings because the Yankees have four critical games this weekend against the Red Sox, who have magically come back to life and chasing down the Yankees in the Wild Card race.
If the Red Sox pass the Yankees in the Wild Card race, I won't be able to accept that. NONE of us should. This team isn't what it should be. Everything needs to be torn down to the studs and built back up otherwise it is the same old dance.
Will arm-ageddon be the Yankees final nail in their coffin? I hope not....but this season has been exhausting.
When Reggie arrived in the Bronx before the 1977 season, the Yankees were already Munson’s team. Thurman was the captain, the reigning American League MVP, and the heartbeat of a club that had just gone to the World Series. Reggie arrived as something entirely different.
He was the superstar free-agent signing. He was outspoken. He was confident. He was controversial. And most importantly, he wasn't interested in quietly blending into the wallpaper. In other words, George Steinbrenner had just thrown another stick of dynamite into a clubhouse that already had Billy Martin walking around with a match.
And then came the quote.
In a 1977 Sport magazine article, Jackson was famously quoted describing himself as “the straw that stirs the drink,”while suggesting Munson could only stir it bad.
Whether Reggie believed he was quoted accurately or not almost didn't matter. The words were in print. Munson read them. And the captain was furious. This wasn't some anonymous teammate Jackson had taken a shot at. Munson had spent his entire major-league career with the Yankees. He had caught countless games on battered knees, taken foul balls off every imaginable body part and helped drag New York back to the World Series in 1976.
Then the new guy showed up and, before he'd accomplished anything in pinstripes, appeared to tell the world whose team it was.
That went over about as well as you'd expect.
Welcome to the Yankees, Reggie. Meet Thurman.
The relationship became one of the many soap operas surrounding the 1977 Yankees. Jackson battled with Martin. Munson resented the attention surrounding Jackson. The clubhouse had factions. Steinbrenner hovered over everything.
Yet something strange happened while everybody was waiting for the Yankees to implode. They won, and winning has a funny way of forcing two great players to recognize something they may not particularly want to admit:
I need that guy.
Munson could look beyond Reggie's personality and see an enormously talented baseball player who could help the Yankees win championships. Jackson could look beyond Thurman's hostility and understand why that clubhouse followed its captain. Their personalities were completely different, but their objective wasn't.
There are stories of the two finally clearing the air, including a memorable conversation in a sauna. It didn't magically turn them into childhood buddies. This wasn't a Hollywood movie where the music swelled and suddenly Reggie and Thurman skipped into Yankee Stadium holding hands.
It was something more believable. They developed respect. And for two intensely competitive men, respect probably meant more than friendship anyway.
Munson saw Jackson deliver when the Yankees needed him most. Reggie saw exactly what made Munson the captain—the toughness, the leadership and the willingness to play hurt without asking anybody to feel sorry for him.
By the time Jackson earned the name “Mr. October” with his three-home-run performance in Game 6 of the 1977 World Series, there wasn't much left to debate about whether Reggie belonged in New York. And Munson didn't need Jackson's approval to prove who he was either.
Thurman had already earned the Bronx. Their relationship continued to evolve. Jackson reportedly even flew with Munson in Thurman's plane, and accounts over the years have described Reggie affectionately referring to Munson as “Coach.” Think about how remarkable that is considering where these two started.
From a newspaper quote that nearly poisoned the clubhouse to two men eventually understanding each other. Not perfectly. Not sentimentally. But genuinely.
Then came August 2, 1979. Munson was killed while practicing takeoffs and landings in his Cessna Citation near Canton, Ohio. He was only 32.
Suddenly all those arguments, headlines and clubhouse battles didn't seem very important anymore.
What remained was the respect.
And maybe that's the part of the Reggie Jackson–Thurman Munson story worth remembering most.
They didn't have to be best friends. They didn't even have to particularly like each other at first. They were two enormous personalities fighting for space inside the craziest baseball clubhouse in America. But somewhere between the arguments, the championships, the back pages and the October nights, they figured each other out.
Thurman was the captain. Reggie was Mr. October.
The Bronx was big enough for both of them. And in the end, they knew it. Rest in peace, Captain.
Thurman Munson — June 7, 1947 – August 2, 1979. Nearly five decades later, No. 15 still belongs to him.
The Yankees’ pitching problems just added another name to the list.
Fernando Cruz has been placed on the 15-day injured list with right elbow discomfort, a concerning development for a bullpen already searching for stability.
The timing is especially troubling. Cruz surrendered the game-tying two-run homer to Jeremy Peña in Tuesday night’s 9-7 loss to Houston, and afterward was seen leaving the clubhouse with Yankees head athletic trainer Tim Lentych. Cruz had said he was healthy, but less than 24 hours later, he was headed to the IL.
And maybe the recent numbers were telling us something. Cruz has been hit hard since the All-Star break after being one of the Yankees’ most dependable bullpen weapons earlier in the season.
The Yankees signed veteran Michael Fulmer to a Major League deal to help fill the hole. But with September approaching, replacing Cruz’s swing-and-miss stuff won't be easy.
For a team trying to make a serious October run, another important arm going down is the last thing they needed.
When you've followed the Yankees long enough, you realize that Yankee Stadium has hosted a lot more than baseball.
Presidents have been there. Popes have been there. Prize fights, football games and concerts have filled the old place.
And in 1987, Dolly Parton showed up. Yes, that Dolly Parton. Country music royalty walked into the House That Ruth Built, grabbed a baseball bat and spent some time with the Bronx Bombers.
With the sad news of Dolly's passing at age 80, we hear at Bleeding Yankee Blue found ourselves thinking about that wonderful little piece of Yankee history. Casey asked me to put this together and I was happy to do it.
Dolly came to Yankee Stadium while filming her ABC television variety series, Dolly, which premiered in September 1987. The Yankee Stadium visit was filmed for an "Out and About" segment appearing in the show's third episode. Waiting for her in the Bronx were four pretty recognizable Yankees:
Ron Guidry. Dave Righetti. Rick Cerone. Mike Pagliarulo.
For Yankee fans of a certain age, those names require no introduction. Guidry was Louisiana Lightning and already a Yankee legend. Righetti had gone from Rookie of the Year starting pitcher to one of baseball's premier closers. Cerone had been behind the plate through some memorable Yankee seasons.
And Pagliarulo — Pags — was the Yankees' hard-hitting third baseman.
Then Dolly Parton walked into the middle of them.
Only at Yankee Stadium. And Dolly wasn't content just shaking hands and posing for pictures. She picked up a bat. Standing near the first-base line, Dolly took a few swings and apparently wasn't too bad at it. At one point she wondered what would happen if she actually made contact and whether somebody might get hurt.
Pagliarulo eventually presented her with an official Yankees bomber jacket, which Dolly immediately put on. Then she wanted the cap. There was, however, a slight engineering problem.
Dolly Parton's hair. If you remember Dolly in 1987, you understand. That Yankees cap wasn't going over that hair. It was going to have to sit on top of it. And that's exactly what happened.
There she was — one of the biggest stars in America, standing at Yankee Stadium in a Yankees jacket with a cap perched on that famous blonde hair.
It was a terrific image. But looking back on it almost 40 years later, there's something else that strikes me about the moment. Dolly looked like she belonged there. That's probably because Dolly Parton seemed to belong everywhere.
She could stand on a stage in Nashville, appear in a Hollywood movie, walk through Dollywood or wander onto the field at Yankee Stadium and immediately make people smile. There was no pretense about her.
She was Dolly. The Yankees she met that day have long since retired. The old Yankee Stadium itself is gone. Baseball has changed enormously since 1987. But that's the beauty of Yankee history. Sometimes history isn't Babe Ruth hitting a home run. It isn't Lou Gehrig's speech. It isn't Reggie hitting three home runs in a World Series game or Don Larsen throwing a perfect game.
Sometimes it's something small and sweet. Something you almost forget happened. Like the afternoon Dolly Parton came to Yankee Stadium and took a few swings with the Yankees.
Today, that memory means a little more. Dolly Parton died yesterday at the age of 80, leaving behind an extraordinary legacy as a singer, songwriter, actress, entertainer, businesswoman and philanthropist.
Millions will remember the songs. Others will remember the movies. Still others will remember the enormous amount of good she quietly did for people throughout her life.
Here at Bleeding Yankee Blue, we'll also remember that day in 1987 when a little bit of Nashville came to the Bronx. Dolly Parton was one of us.
Rest in peace, Dolly. Thanks for giving us one more wonderful story from the House That Ruth Built. And somewhere, I hope there's a Yankees cap big enough for that hair.
The Yankees had this one. Then they had it again. And then, somehow, they had it again.
And they still lost.
The Yankees fell 9-7 to the Astros Tuesday night, blowing three separate leads as the bullpen completely unraveled. After Will Warren left, Yankee relievers allowed six runs over the final four innings.
That wasted a good night from the offense. Cody Bellinger launched a three-run homer, while Luis García Jr. went 4-for-5 with a homer and three RBIs. Jeremy Peña tied the game with a two-run homer off Fernando Cruz in the sixth, and Houston eventually took control against Brent Headrick in the eighth.
This one is pretty simple: seven runs should be enough.
The Yankees offense did its job.
The bullpen didn’t.
Astros 9, Yankees 7. A bad one to give away this late in August.
For nearly three months, the Yankees have been playing the waiting game with Aaron Judge. Finally, there’s some actual movement.
Judge continues to make progress from the stress fracture in his right rib, and the Captain is slowly checking off the boxes. He’s throwing, running, lifting and has begun working his way back into hitting, including taking swings off a tee. So far, importantly, there haven’t been any reported setbacks.
Now comes the part Yankee fans actually care about: Can Judge get back on the field before this season runs out of runway?
There’s still no official return date, and nobody should start circling days on the calendar just yet. But every swing, throw and workout gets No. 99 a little closer.
At this point, Yankee fans don't need another vague medical update. They need Aaron Judge walking back into that lineup.
Because if the Yankees are going anywhere this fall, having the Captain along for the ride would certainly help.
The Yankees called up the veteran reliever ahead of their series with Houston. Topa has looked decent in a handful of innings at Triple-A since joining the organization, so maybe the Yankees see something they like. But there’s one rather large number staring everybody in the face: 8.05. That was Topa’s ERA with Minnesota this season.
And somehow, that gets you a ticket to the Bronx.
This is what I don't understand about the Yankees and their obsession with numbers. They have analytics for everything. They can probably tell you a pitcher's spin rate on a Tuesday night with two outs and a runner on second. But figuring out who actually deserves an opportunity? That's apparently more complicated.
Some Yankees get chance after chance no matter how poorly they perform. Others can produce and seemingly never get a legitimate opportunity. Then somebody carrying an 8.05 ERA comes through the door and the Yankees say, Let's see what we've got.
Maybe Topa pitches lights-out. I hope he does. This isn't a knock on the guy for accepting an opportunity. It's about the Yankees.
For an organization that supposedly lives by the numbers, they sure have a strange way of deciding which numbers actually matter.
The Yankees have a real opportunity here. Cuban outfielder Raider Sanchez is 20 years old, has serious power potential and is now available on the international market.
Here’s the kicker: the Yankees reportedly have more international bonus money remaining than any other team. Translation: Brian Cashman has the biggest wallet at the table. For once, this shouldn’t require a complicated Yankee analytics meeting.
Prospects are never guarantees. Sanchez could become something special or disappear into the minors. Nobody knows. But what we do know is the Yankees take changes all the time. But when a team has money and a talented 20-year-old power hitter is sitting there, the decision seems pretty simple.
I say go get the kid. Sánchez batted .355 with 2 home runs in Cuba's Elite League at the start of the 2026 season before leaving Cuba as a much-touted prospect.
Then again, these are the Yankees. Simple decisions somehow become calculus.
Jon Heyman dropped an interesting nugget earlier this month. I didn't want to forget to tell you. Allegedly the Yankees are among the teams linked to Japanese slugger Teruaki Sato, the 27-year-old Hanshin Tigers third baseman expected to pursue MLB after the 2026 season.
Heyman's report appeared in the New York Post on August 13, with the Mets, Yankees, Dodgers and Phillies among the clubs connected to Sato.
Now, "linked" is doing a lot of work here. This isn't a signing. It isn't even necessarily serious negotiations. It's a loose rumor. But it's an interesting one.
Sato is one of Japan's premier power hitters, and here's where this gets even more intriguing.
Meanwhile Ryan McMahon landed on the 10-day IL August 21, retroactive to August 20, with a Grade 2 sprain of his left thumb after jamming it sliding into second base against Baltimore.
And remember: Heyman's Sato report came eight days earlier.
So no, the Yankees weren't suddenly linked to Sato because McMahon got hurt. They were apparently interested before the injury. Coincidence? Probably. But now that McMahon is hurt, that little August 13 rumor suddenly feels a bit more relevant.
Maybe Sato becomes another name swallowed up by the endless Yankee rumor machine. Or maybe this is one worth remembering. For now, it's just a link.
After getting embarrassed by Toronto pitching on Saturday, the Yankees came back Sunday and actually looked like a team with some attitude, beating the Blue Jays 8-3 and taking another important step forward.
Ben Rice continues to impress me. With the bases loaded in the sixth and the Yankees needing a big hit, Rice battled through a full count and ripped a two-run single to right. No panic. No trying to hit a six-run homer. Just a professional at-bat from a kid who keeps showing he belongs in the middle of this lineup.
And how about Jazz Chisholm Jr.? He helped manufacture the rally with a bunt single and then decided subtlety was overrated, launching a two-run homer an inning later. That's Jazz — energy, swagger and the ability to change a game in about five minutes.
Spencer Jones chipped in with an RBI double and a terrific diving catch, Trent Grisham reached base for the go-ahead run and later homered, and suddenly the Yankees had themselves an 8-3 win.
That's six wins in seven games, folks.
There are still things to clean up, but right now? I'm enjoying this. The Yankees are playing with some life, the kids are contributing, Jazz is bringing the juice and Ben Rice just keeps looking better.
I hate writing this because I actually like Giancarlo Stanton.
The guy has never bothered me. He works. He doesn't make excuses. He has delivered some monster moments for the Yankees, especially when the lights get brighter. And when he gets a hold of one, it's still one of the greatest sights in baseball.
Not because he's a bad player. Not because he's a bad teammate. And certainly not because I'm blaming the guy for getting hurt. I'm saying it because at some point your body gets a vote.
And Stanton's body has been voting NO for years. Since coming to the Yankees, we've seen injuries involving his biceps, shoulder, knee, quad, ankle, Achilles, hamstrings, elbows and enough calf problems to make you wonder if the Yankees should just bubble-wrap him between at-bats.
That's not being cruel. That's the history. In 2019, Stanton played just 18 regular-season games. Then came more calf trouble in 2020, along with a hamstring strain. The quad followed in 2021. Ankle and Achilles issues arrived in 2022. Another significant hamstring injury cost him nearly two months in 2023. Another hamstring strain cost him 28 games in 2024.
Last year? Both elbows. Stanton missed the first 70 games of 2025 dealing with tendon problems. And somehow, 2026 has topped all of it. Stanton hurt his right calf in April. He spent nearly four months trying to get back. He had already suffered a setback with that calf earlier in the process.
Then, finally, he reached what was essentially the last major hurdle before beginning a rehab assignment: running the bases.
And he fell. And strained the other calf. You can't make this stuff up. The Yankees announced yesterday that Stanton suffered a moderate strain of his left calf while working his way back from the right calf injury. Aaron Boone acknowledged that, this late in the calendar, getting Stanton back this season has become extremely challenging.
He has played 24 games this season. Twenty-four. That's where my opinion changed. This isn't about waiting for Stanton to get healthy anymore. We've been waiting for Stanton to get healthy for most of his Yankee career. It's about reliability.
The Yankees are supposed to be building a championship roster, and you simply cannot construct that roster while repeatedly reserving an important spot for a player you have absolutely no idea will be available.
That's not roster construction. That's roulette. And before somebody tells me Stanton can still hit — I know. That's what makes this sad. There is still serious power in that bat. There are still moments when Stanton looks like the most terrifying guy walking toward the batter's box. This isn't Willie Mays stumbling around with the Mets. Stanton can still punish a baseball.
The problem is getting him into the batter's box in the first place. He's 36 years old. He's under contract through 2027. And after this latest setback, the Yankees are once again discussing whether he'll even make it back onto a baseball field this season.
How many more times are we going to do this? Injury. IL. Rehab. Running. Setback. Aaron Boone update. More rehab. Hope. Another body part.
Stanton has had a hell of a career. MVP. Five-time All-Star. One of the premier power hitters of his generation. He has carried himself professionally in New York and given Yankee fans some unforgettable postseason moments.
That's how I'd rather remember him. Not as a 37-year-old trying to coax one more season out of legs that have been screaming at him for years. There is dignity in knowing when it's time. And for Giancarlo Stanton, I think we've reached it.
Retire, Big G. It's the right move as much as I don't want to see it happen. Retire.
Not because you can't hit anymore. Because the Yankees and us fans can't keep waiting to find out whether you'll be healthy enough to try.
Cody Bellinger didn't exactly tear up Triple-A pitching during his rehab assignment.
Good. He didn't need to.
Bellinger is expected back with the Yankees today after missing nearly a month with a Grade 2 left hamstring strain. His rehab stop with Scranton/Wilkes-Barre was less about batting averages and more about making sure everything still worked.
On Friday, Bellinger went 0-for-3 against Charlotte, but played six innings in left field and, more importantly, actually had to use the hamstring. A couple of fly balls sent him moving around the outfield, he handled them without a problem and walked away healthy.
That's all I needed to see.
Rehab games aren't supposed to be auditions. Bellinger already has the job. They're about getting your legs underneath you, seeing some live pitching and making sure nothing pops, pulls or explodes.
Mission accomplished.
Now Bellinger returns to a Yankee team that needs every healthy, productive bat it can get for the stretch run.
Forget the 0-for-3.
The best number from his rehab assignment was zero setbacks.
Maybe it was because he felt like one of our guys. A 19th-round Yankees draft pick who wasn't supposed to become much of anything, Marinaccio simply kept pitching his way up the ladder until suddenly he was standing on the mound in the Bronx getting big-league hitters out.
And getting them out pretty damn well, too.
As a rookie in 2022, Marinaccio posted a 2.05 ERA in 40 appearances, striking out 56 in 44 innings. Opponents hit just .149 against him. For a while there, the kid from Toms River looked like another bullpen steal the Yankees had dug out of nowhere.
But baseball careers rarely travel in straight lines. Since leaving New York, Marinaccio's journey has looked more like somebody dropped the GPS in a blender. San Diego. Pittsburgh. Cincinnati. Waivers. DFA. Another opportunity. Another DFA.
And now, Minnesota. The Twins signed Marinaccio to a minor-league deal after he elected free agency rather than accept an outright assignment from Cincinnati. His 2026 numbers aren't pretty — a 6.09 ERA overall — but his career ERA still sits at 3.98 over 183 major-league innings.
So maybe there's still something there.
That's what resilience looks like in baseball. It's not always some dramatic Hollywood comeback. Sometimes it's getting punched in the mouth, packing another suitcase and saying, OK, who's got a baseball? I loved Marinaccio when he was a Yankee, and I'm rooting for him now.
He's still got another inning in him. Go get 'em, Ron.
I have to admit, this has gotten a little out of control. In a good way.
If you've looked at the Bleeding Yankee Blue Store lately, you probably noticed something: this isn't just a handful of BYB shirts anymore. The store has exploded with new designs, new collections and some wonderfully strange ideas—and that's exactly where I wanted it to go.
Look at what we're doing now.
CLICK TO SHOP
We've got the traditional Bleeding Yankee Blue gear—the classic shirts, tanks, hoodies and game-day stuff that represents this blog and the Yankee fans who have supported us since 2010.
But then things get interesting.
We've got our Mafia Collection, mixing Italian-American attitude, humor and old-school imagery into shirts you aren't going to see hanging next to the generic baseball tees at the mall.
CLICK TO SHOP
We've expanded our holiday selection. We are working on Christmas, Thanksgiving, even Easter designs! We got St. Patrick's Day BYB gear, patriotic designs, women's styles, rugged baseball shirts and plenty of classic Bleeding Yankee Blue looks.
And then there are the designs I probably enjoy the most—the weird, obscure baseball stuff.
Bernie. The Boss. Old baseball references. Inside jokes. Designs that might make a baseball fan stop, look at your shirt and need three seconds before saying:
"Oh my God. I get it."
THAT'S what I want.
There is enough generic sports merchandise in the world.
I want Bleeding Yankee Blue merchandise to have some personality. Sports mixed with humor. Baseball mixed with nostalgia. Yankee culture mixed with things we grew up with, things we remember and things that simply make us laugh.
Some of these designs are going to be very different from anything you're used to seeing in sports merchandise.
Good. Bleeding Yankee Blue has been different since 2010. We started as an independent, grassroots Yankee blog built around one simple thing: being fans. No corporate voice. No pretending everything is wonderful when it isn't. We celebrate the Yankees when they deserve it, blast them when they deserve that too, and we've always tried to have some fun along the way. The store is becoming a physical extension of that personality.
It's hosted through Dashery, powered by TeePublic, which gives independent creators like BYB a standalone shop while they handle manufacturing, shipping and customer support. That allows me to concentrate on what I enjoy most:
Coming up with the next idea. And believe me, some of them are pretty damn obscure. But the best part of all this remains the people who have been here all along.
You.
The Bleeding Yankee Blue audience has been incredibly loyal for nearly 16 years. You've read the blog, shared our stories, argued with me, laughed with me, celebrated wins and suffered through some absolutely ridiculous Yankee baseball. Now I'm seeing people wearing BYB.
That's pretty cool. So no, Bleeding Yankee Blue isn't "just getting started." We've been here since 2010. The difference is that now the store finally looks like us. Yankees. Baseball. Humor. Nostalgia. Italian attitude. Patriotism. Obscure references. And absolutely no interest in being ordinary.
The Yankees are banking on pitching to carry them deep into October. Well, today gave us another reason to start sweating.
Ryan Weathers left the Yankees’ 4-3 loss to Toronto with left forearm discomfort and is headed for imaging. Those are three words nobody wants to hear about a pitcher in late August.
Weathers wasn't particularly sharp before leaving—72 pitches for just 10 outs—but that's almost irrelevant now. The bigger issue is whether the Yankees just lost an important piece of their rotation at the absolute worst possible time.
And there’s reason for concern. Weathers has dealt with forearm and lat problems before, making only eight starts last season, and he also missed significant time with a finger injury in 2024. Now, after pushing past his previous career high in innings, the forearm starts barking.
Wonderful.
The Yankees need healthy arms for September and October, not another mystery injury followed by an MRI and crossed fingers.
Hopefully this is nothing.
Because if it isn't, the Yankees' postseason pitching plan just got a whole lot thinner.
At some point, somebody needs to explain what the hell happened to Giancarlo Stanton.
Stanton has been out since April 24 with a right calf strain. Then he suffered another setback in that same calf in June. Now, while finally working his way toward a return, Stanton fell while running the bases and strained his left calf. Aaron Boone called it a moderate strain, and with the calendar sitting in late August, his season is suddenly in serious jeopardy.
Unbelievable.
And yes, Stanton has an extensive injury history. Nobody is pretending otherwise. But I have questions for the Yankees, too.
What exactly is happening with this organization's training, rehabilitation and recovery operation?
This isn't some guy who rushed back after two weeks. Stanton has spent nearly four months rehabbing. The entire purpose of that process is to carefully rebuild the body so the player can eventually handle baseball activities again. Yet here we are: Stanton was rehabbing one calf and somehow injured the other one running the bases.
How?
Maybe this is simply terrible luck. Maybe Stanton's 36-year-old body just isn't cooperating anymore. But the Yankees have had enough injury and rehabilitation headaches over the years that their process deserves scrutiny.
Because Stanton played just 24 games this season, and now there's a legitimate possibility we won't see him again in 2026.
That's not just disappointing. It's ridiculous.
Somebody inside that organization needs to start asking harder questions about why getting important players healthy — and keeping them healthy — continues to feel like such an adventure.
The Yankees are digging through the pitching bargain bin again.
New York has signed right-hander Eli Morgan to a minor-league deal, adding another arm to the organization and, presumably, another project for the pitching department.
Morgan, 30, hasn't exactly lit up the radar gun—or the stat sheet—this season. He posted a 5.12 ERA with 16 strikeouts over 19⅓ innings with Kansas City before eventually hitting free agency.
So why bother?
Because this is what the Yankees do. They see an arm, find something they think they can tweak and toss it into the Matt Blake laboratory. And Morgan isn't completely without a résumé. He posted a 1.93 ERA over 42 innings for Cleveland in 2024, so there's at least evidence that the guy can pitch when everything is clicking.
It's a minor-league deal. There's virtually no risk here. Maybe Morgan rediscovers something and helps the Yankees down the stretch. Maybe he's simply organizational depth and we never see him in the Bronx.
Either way, Cashman bought another lottery ticket.
Let’s state something for the record: since George Lombard Jr. arrived in the big leagues, he has been a breath of fresh air.
Actually, make that a huge breath of fresh air that the Yankees desperately needed. The kid looks like he belongs. He moves like a natural athlete, plays with energy, runs the bases aggressively and — imagine this — actually looks comfortable playing shortstop for the New York Yankees.
Since his arrival, the Yankees have been playing better baseball, and Lombard has already found ways to contribute beyond the box score. On Wednesday in Baltimore, for example, he drove in two runs, including the go-ahead run in the eighth inning of a 5-3 Yankees win, not the mention homers, smooth fielding plays, great instincts.
And this is precisely why I have a problem with anyone suddenly reaching for the panic button when the kid screws something up. Because he will screw something up. He's a kid.
Friday night against Toronto, Lombard dropped a foul ball at shortstop. It was an error. It wasn't pretty.
So what?
He's 21 years old.
Back on July 26, before Lombard ever stepped onto a major-league field, I wrote this:
“Will George Lombard Jr. struggle when he gets to New York?
The difference is those struggles come attached to legitimate upside. They're part of developing a player whose ceiling still looks incredibly high. With Volpe, Yankees fans aren't watching growing pains anymore. They're watching the same movie over and over, hoping the ending changes. It hasn't.”
And that is exactly where I still stand. There is absolutely no comparison between what we're watching with Lombard and what we watched for years with Anthony Volpe.
The Yankees handed Volpe the major-league shortstop job and essentially decided to finish his development in the Bronx. The training wheels were attached while the Yankees were trying to win baseball games. Mistakes became patterns. Patterns became seasons. And eventually Volpe, at 25 years old, was sent back to the minors.
Lombard's situation is totally different. The Yankees drafted him in 2023 and developed him through their system slowly. He earned his promotions. In 2026, he hit .284 with a .411 on-base percentage and .909 OPS in the minors before getting the call.
Then he arrived in New York and immediately looked like he belonged. His first major-league hit was a home run, and he flashed the glove immediately in his debut. As of Saturday morning, Lombard is hitting .292 with a .352 OBP and .790 OPS through his first 48 major-league at-bats.
That's not a finished product. That's the point. Lombard is a kid playing Major League Baseball. There will be errors. There will be bad at-bats. There will eventually be a slump because major-league pitchers have this annoying habit of adjusting to hitters. Then Lombard will have to adjust back. But let me be clear, it will be nothing in comparison to Anthony Volpe. Volpe was not ready and the Yankees forced him down our throats. Lombard? Lombard IS ready.
That's why I don't want to hear the overreaction if Lombard make a mistake. He's going to make rookie mistakes because — breaking news — he's a rookie. I believed Lombard would eventually grab the spotlight because the athletic ability was obvious. Now we're seeing it.
So, enjoy the kid. Let him play. Let him screw up occasionally. And when he eventually goes 2-for-20 and somebody declares that pitchers have “figured him out,” everybody please remember what we're actually watching. We're not watching Anthony Volpe all over again.
We're watching a 21-year-old legitimate major-league talent learning how to become a major-league star. There is a very big difference.
And right now, George Lombard Jr. looks like he belongs exactly where he is.
The Yankees beat Toronto 3-1, have now won nine of their last 13, and suddenly they're just three games out of first place in the AL East. Yes, these Yankees. Go figure.
Spencer Jones stayed hot, launching his seventh homer and going deep for the second straight game. Toronto even challenged it after Jones admired his work for a moment. Nice try. Still gone.
Cam Schlittler wasn't exactly cruising, but he battled through traffic and made pitches when he needed them. José Caballero added a sacrifice fly, Brent Headrick escaped a late jam and David Bednar finished it off for save No. 30.
But forget the individual numbers for a second. The Yankees are simply playing good baseball right now — and they're gaining ground.
That's what makes this 10-game homestand so important. They're home, they're hot and first place is suddenly sitting right there within reach. This is the major opportunity. Let's hope Boone doesn't mess this up.
Don't just make the AL East race interesting. Go take the damn thing.
