BAD BOONE DECISIONS CONTINUE TO LOSE GAMES FOR THE YANKEES

Friday night’s 5–3 loss to the Rays wasn’t just another notch in a three-game skid—it was another reminder that the biggest problem in the Bronx isn’t always on the field.

Yes, Luis Gil had a rocky debut. Fine. That happens. But the defining moments of this game didn’t come from the mound—they came from the dugout, where Aaron Boone continues to manage like he’s guessing on a multiple-choice test and proudly circling “C” every time.

This is becoming a pattern, not a fluke.

April 5: high-leverage situation, Boone rolls with JC Escarra—three pitches later, strikeout, rally dead on arrival.

April 8: a .077-hitting Ryan McMahon keeps getting chances like he’s on a lifetime achievement tour. Boone’s justification was dumb. He actually said McMahon “had been on base four times in the previous three games.” That’s the bar now? Four times in three games? For a hitter batting .077?

And then Friday—somehow worse.

Down 5–3 in the ninth, the Yankees finally wake up. Giancarlo Stanton and Amed Rosario lead off with singles. Jazz Chisholm Jr. does his job, chaos ensues, runners move—suddenly, one swing ties the game.

This is where a real manager plays chess. But we don't have a real manager. We have Boone who plays rock-paper-scissors… blindfolded.

With a righty reliever on the mound, Boone sticks with Randal Grichuk while Trent Grisham—a lefty—sits on the bench watching the season pass him by. Predictably, Grichuk strikes out on four pitches.

And Boone’s explanation? Brace yourself:
“I like the righties against Baker. Had it been two outs, I might have gone Grisham.”

That’s not just a bad answer—it’s barely an answer. It’s the kind of logic that makes you wonder if lineup decisions are being made with a dartboard.

Then came the postgame philosophy lecture, where Boone said:

“Up until the last game of the homestand, we’ve been walking a ton, giving ourselves an opportunity, just got to get some guys clicking and obviously get that big hit... We’re not hitting a ton of longballs right now, but for the most part, approach-wise, I’ve been good…it’s going to happen sometimes from the offense. They’ll get it rolling and some people will pay the price.”

That all sounds nice—if you ignore reality.

Because here’s what Boone refuses to acknowledge: when you do get those opportunities, you can’t hand them to the worst possible matchup and hope for a miracle. Walks don’t win games by themselves. “Approach” doesn’t drive in runs. The right hitter in the right moment does.

Instead, Boone keeps rolling out scenarios where JC Escarra, Ryan McMahon, or a cold righty in a righty-righty matchup becomes the guy. Not because it’s smart—but because, apparently, it “feels” right.

That’s not strategy. That’s gambling. It's a guess. You need to give your team an opportunity. He's not.

Managing this team right now is like handing someone the keys to a Porsche and watching them say, “I like my chances,” right before driving it straight into a wall. And then afterward, they explain the crash by talking about how smoothly the steering wheel felt.

At some point, you stop calling it bad luck. You call it what it is: bad leadership.

The New York Yankees aren’t losing because they lack talent. They’re losing because, in the biggest moments, the decision-making collapses because of Aaron Boone. And until that changes, October isn’t the goal—it’s a fantasy. Mark my words, even if we make it to the playoffs, Boone doesn't have the brain capacity to guide us in a short series.  Trust me.

You cannot win a championship when your manager keeps explaining losses instead of preventing them. That's the bottom line.

WHY DID WE LET LUKE WEAVER WALK AGAIN?

The modern bullpen isn’t about labels anymore—it’s about leverage, flexibility, and giving your team multiple paths to win. That’s exactly why Luke Weaver has more real value than David Bednar right now, and it’s not even particularly close.

Bednar is supposed to be a hammer. One job, one inning, shut the door. That’s the deal. But here’s the problem: if you’re only bringing one thing to the table, you better be elite at it. Not good. Not “figuring it out.” Elite. And lately, Bednar hasn’t been different. A velocity drop, he’s been alittle shaky. 

Meanwhile, Weaver is the exact opposite kind of weapon. He doesn’t need perfection to be useful. He gives you options—and options win games over 162.

Weaver can give you two or three clean innings when your starter flames out early. He can patch together an emergency start without the entire bullpen catching fire behind him. He can stabilize extra innings, bridge the middle frames, or come in with traffic on the bases and actually put out the fire instead of pouring gasoline on it. Even when he’s not dominant, he’s contributing. That’s the key difference—his floor still helps you win.

And that’s where this becomes almost insulting from a roster-building standpoint.

Weaver fits the modern game perfectly. He’s the guy you deploy in the 5th, 6th, or 7th when the game is actually on the line—not just when the scoreboard tells you it’s time for a save opportunity. He stops rallies before they become losses. He keeps games from spiraling. He protects the rest of your staff by eating innings and preventing overuse. In a long season, that kind of pitcher doesn’t just help you win today—he keeps you from collapsing tomorrow.

Bednar? He’s locked into the 9th inning like it’s written in stone. No flexibility. No creativity. And if there’s no save situation, he’s basically a very expensive spectator. That’s a luxury you can afford when the guy is Mariano Rivera-level automatic. When he’s not? It’s a liability dressed up as a role.

And this is where the Yankees deserve every ounce of criticism coming their way.

Because when Bednar and Camilo Doval arrived, Brian Cashman puffed his chest out and essentially stamped it “mission accomplished.” Like the bullpen puzzle was solved. Like fans should just nod along and be grateful. How’s that looking now?

Messy. That’s how.

Bednar isn’t locking down good enough. The bullpen isn’t stabilized. And the one guy who actually gave you flexibility, length, and insurance across multiple scenarios—Luke Weaver—is gone.  

So, here’s the question that should be hanging over the Bronx like a storm cloud: why didn’t they prioritize keeping the guy who gives you more ways to win?

This isn’t complicated. It’s basic roster construction in 2026. Versatility matters. Durability matters. The ability to influence multiple parts of a game matters. Weaver checks all those boxes. Bednar checks one—and right now, he’s not even checking it well...again, shaky.

For a franchise that loves to talk about “championship standards,” the Yankees are making decisions that feel anything but. This isn’t some grand philosophical debate. It’s common sense.

And right now, common sense is nowhere to be found in that front office.

WELLS & MCMAHON ARE DRAGGING THIS YANKEE TEAM DOWN

And it's Boone's fault for putting them in the lineup day after day.

The New York Yankees front office has developed a bad habit: take a struggling player, slap a “he’ll figure it out” label on him, and shove him into the lineup like fans won’t notice. It’s not optimism—it’s denial dressed up as strategy. We are no longer a competitive, or a serious franchise.

And right on cue, Aaron Boone is the one delivering the sales pitch.

We’ve seen this movie before. Austin Wells and Ryan McMahon are just the latest examples of players being force-fed to the fanbase while producing absolutely nothing. Bleeding Yankee Blue has been waving the warning flag for months, but instead of adjustments, we get stubbornness and spin.

Let’s start with Wells. He came up with the promise of a bat-first catcher who needed polish behind the plate. What’s he become? A below-average defender… with a disappearing bat. That’s not a project—that’s a problem. When your back up catcher in Ben Rice is better than your actual catcher, we have a problem. Austin's plate discipline is eroding, the contact is weak, and the results are brutal. A World Baseball Classic homer for the Dominican Republic is not a résumé builder—it’s a footnote. Meanwhile, guys like Ben Rice are sitting there actually earning opportunities. Thank God his bats in the lineup. At some point, performance has to matter more than reputation. The Yankees don't get that.

Then there’s McMahon, who somehow looks even worse. A .069 average with a near 38% strikeout rate isn’t a slump—it’s a red flag waving in your face. The mechanics are a mess: all arms, no lower half, no balance, no confidence. He doesn’t look close. He looks lost. And when a hitter loses confidence, that’s not something you just “wait out”—that’s a spiral. Read THE CASE OF MCMAHON'S MISSING LOWER HALF for more.

Yet Boone stands there and tells everyone, “He’ll get it rolling.”

Based on what? Vibes?

Because right now, the bottom of this lineup isn’t just struggling—it’s automatic outs. And continuing to run these guys out there while better options sit (not many mind you) is not loyalty, it’s negligence. It’s a refusal to adjust. It’s managing scared.

If Boone really is the one writing out the lineup card every night, then Brian Cashman needs to pick up the phone and remind him what the fucking job is: win games. Not protect feelings. Not hand out extended tryouts in April like it’s spring training.

Yankees fans don’t want charity cases. They don’t care about clubhouse friendships or who “deserves” more time. They want accountability. They want results.

And right now? Wells and McMahon aren’t just underperforming—they’re actively hurting this team.

Enough with the gift-wrapping guys and telling us they are gifts. These guys aren’t good. And pretending otherwise isn’t fooling anyone.

AMED ROSARIO IS A GAME HERO & RYAN MCMAHON IS A ZERO!

It's early, so I'm not going to jump to conclusions yet but, THE CASE OF MCMAHON'S MISSING LOWER HALF is really concerning. It's enough that even clown Aaron Boone knew he had to make a change. Let's hope he continues to think smart and use a baseball brain.

Everything is off with Ryan McMahon right now so I am glad Baboonie used his brain for once and used Amed Rosario Tuesday against the A's. Rosario's role was planned as the bench infielder that would play more against left-handed pitching but when you aren't getting the job done like McMahon right now who is in a 2-for-23 slump, sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith.

And it paid off. It's hard for me to watch the Yankees struggle against teams like the A's but it happens. Sometimes your regulars just don't get the job done but one person can be the sparkplug that changes everything. That's exactly what Rosario was with his two homeruns. He could make it very easy for Baboonie to give Rosario more playing time against right handed pitchers if McMahon can't remember how to hit a ball again.

If McMahon was in the lineup Tuesday, we wouldn't have been able to watch that beautiful home run against Mark Leiter Jr. and bring that energy to the rest of his teammates. I can appreciate McMahon's glove, on paper it is "better" than Rosario's but it's not a detriment to this team to play Rosario instead. This isn't a Anthony Volpe concern who can't hit worth a lick and is a defensive liability.

I think Baboonie needs to look a little harder for more opportunities to play Rosario. It's obvious McMahon needs a cleansing of sorts to get his mojo back offensively. I don't care about righty-lefty scenarios right now. McMahon would struggle to hit an oversized beach ball at the plate and until he gets his shit together Baboonie needs to be willing to play Rosario against righties and look at matchups that may be good to get his bat into. All guys have those pitchers that they just see well. 

Right now it's not good to be a Ryan on this team. McMahon isn't getting the job done and let's face it Ryan Weathers also stinks to high heaven. Someone call Baboonie and tell him the Ryan's aren't getting the job done and to continue to make adjustments.

--Jeana Bellezza-Ochoa

BYB Senior Managing Editor

Twitter: @nyprincessj

MICHAEL KAY'S STILL FIGHTING TO STAY RELEVANT

Michael Kay used to be the comforting metronome of a Yankees broadcast: steady, familiar, the kind of voice that made a long inning feel like theater. Lately, though, he’s been doing something else with that microphone—lecturing us fans. That shift from play‑by‑play to public scold is jarring, and not just because it’s tone‑deaf; it’s because the man doing the scolding is paid by the very franchise whose customers he’s chastising.

Take this recent display everyone’s still talking about: a section of the Stadium broke into a profane chant aimed at Juan Soto, and Kay didn’t treat it as a moment to explain the emotion behind it—he called it “an awful look,” said it made Yankees fans look “small” and “jealous,” and warned that it handed rival fans ammunition. That wasn’t a throwaway line on a hot mic; it was a full‑throated rebuke on his show. But who actually looks small? Kay, stop holding the Yankees water. Do a different act... we all know you get paid by the Yankees. Knock it off.

Look, there’s nothing wrong with asking fans to be better. But context matters. The Yankees are a franchise built on entitlement and expectation; being loud, unreasonable, and occasionally irrational is part of the product. Fans boo, chant, and rage because they care and because they spend THOUSANDS of dollars in that building in the Bronx, but also because accountability is baked into fandom here. When the person with the megaphone is also on the payroll, those admonitions stop sounding like civic-minded commentary and start sounding like corporate damage control.

What makes Kay’s posture especially grating is the tone: moralizing rather than explaining. A broadcaster can add value by translating front‑office logic—why a contract was structured a certain way, why a manager made a lineup choice—without telling ticket‑holders how to feel. Kay’s “shame on you” routine flattens nuance into sermonizing, and in a town that prizes bluntness, that’s a fast way to lose credibility. That's how I feel at least.

There’s also an optics problem that isn’t theoretical. When a paid voice repeatedly defends the franchise and publicly scolds the paying public, listeners are entitled to ask whether they’re hearing independent analysis or a PR echo. I feel like it's PR quite frankly. Fans don’t need a babysitter, Michael, they need someone who will call out the good, the bad, and the ugly—regardless of who signs the checks.

If Kay wants to keep the goodwill he earned as a broadcaster, the fix is simple: call the game, explain the decisions, and stop policing the crowd on your ESPN radio show. It doesn't mask the fact that you are still getting paid by the Yankees. New Yorkers will forgive blunt criticism of the team; they won’t forgive being told how to be fans by someone who’s effectively on the franchise payroll.

Kay can still be the voice we tune in for, but he's losing his footing, no doubt about it.

THE CASE OF MCMAHON'S MISSING LOWER HALF

Watch one Ryan McMahon at-bat—really watch it—and you’ll see something that would make any Little League coach start pacing like a nervous dad behind the backstop:

His lower half clocks in late. His upper half clocks in early. And the bat? Oh, the bat just sort of waves through the zone like it’s trying to hail a cab in midtown. It’s not synced. It’s not connected. It’s not… good.

This is what people mean when they talk about the “kinetic chain.” In a proper swing, energy starts in the ground, moves through the legs, rotates through the hips, and finally explodes through the hands and barrel. It’s a whip.

What McMahon is doing right now is less “whip” and more “wet noodle.” All arms. No engine. Right now, McMahon is hitting like a guy trying to win a bar bet with his upper body.

His legs? Optional.
His hips? On vacation.
His hands? Working overtime like they’re getting paid by the swing. And when that happens, the results are exactly what you’d expect:

• Late on velocity
• Out in front of off-speed
• A whole lot of empty swings

That 35.2% whiff rate from 2025 didn’t just fall out of the sky—it packed a suitcase and followed him into 2026. We have been seeing it for months.  Yes, he singled in his first at-bat of the season. Baseball loves a good prank. Then came the 0-for-22 stretch, which felt less like a slump and more like a public service announcement.

Meanwhile, in the Yankees Dugout…over on the bench sit James Rowson, Casey Dykes and Jake Hirst. Three hitting coaches. Three. At this point, you half expect one of them to at least accidentally fix something on McMahon's swing.

Now, to be fair—because fairness matters even when we’re annoyed—these guys aren’t clueless. This is the New York Yankees. They have more data than NASA... just ask Boone, he uses it more than he actually manages. But it's true, the Yankees coaches can tell you the exact millisecond McMahon’s swing goes off the rails. But if they know, they aren't fixing it.  Why are they missing the problem? From the outside looking in it sure feels like they’re doing nothing.

Now, here’s where it gets interesting. What looks like a mechanical disaster might actually be a timing issue wearing a bad disguise. If McMahon is:

• Starting late
• Rushing to catch up
• Guessing instead of reacting

Then suddenly the lower half doesn’t just “disappear”—it never gets a chance to show up. And once that happens, the upper body panics. The swing speeds up. The hands take over. And boom—you’ve got a guy who looks completely disconnected. So, is it mechanics? Timing? Both? Right now, it’s playing like a greatest hits album of everything you don’t want.

And so, for me, here's the Fix. Widen the base. Sit into the legs. Let the lower half actually do its job. It’s Hitting 101… which is exactly why it’s so maddening. Basics matter, especially for McMahon right now.  Because here’s the catch: fixing that isn’t a quick tweak. It’s a commitment. And midseason? That will be like deciding to rebuild your house because a window won’t close properly. It can get worse before it gets better. A lot worse. Do the tweaks in April!

Now look, I never wanted McMahon. Not a big fan of the guy.   And if this is who McMahon is right now—if this disconnected, all-arms swing is the plan—then the Yankees have a bigger issue than a McMahon bat cold streak. They have a lineup spot that opposing pitchers are going to circle in red ink. Fastballs up. Spin away. Repeat until further notice.

And unless that lower half starts showing signs of life, the results aren’t going to magically change because the calendar flips to May. Dude's gotta work to fix it.

Look, this isn’t panic… yet, but it’s not nothing either. You don’t run a 35% whiff rate, follow it up with at-bats that look like a mechanical guessing game, and just assume it’ll all sort itself out.

At some point, either:

• The swing gets reconnected
• The timing gets fixed
• Or the results keep telling the truth

And the truth, right now, isn’t subtle. For a team like the Yankees—with all their resources, all their expectations, and yes, all their money—this is the kind of problem that shouldn’t linger.

Because if it does? Then Ryan McMahon won’t just be struggling. He’ll be exactly what frustrated fans are already starting to fear. A guy with all the tools… swinging like he forgot where he left them.

Yikes.

SAME YANKEES, SAME PATTERN

It’s April. 

The New York Yankees are in first place—congratulations, you’ve achieved the absolute baseline expectation of being the Yankees. Hang the banner.

And somehow, nine games in, the noise is already unbearable. Not concern—panic. Not analysis—idiocy. Fans are foaming at the mouth over José Caballero like he personally tanked the season. The guy has played NINE GAMES. Nine. Not 90. Not half a season. Nine games, and people are ready to ship him to the moon because he’s hitting .129.

Meanwhile, Anthony Volpe hit .212 over a full 153-game season, and somehow that got a pass wrapped in excuses and blind optimism. That’s not loyalty—that’s delusion. The Yankee front office is full of that. Meanwhile Caballero already has 3 stolen bases. Volpe had 18 all last year. But yeah, tell me more about how Caballero “can’t play.”

You don’t sound smart—you sound clueless.

If you’re going to be mad, at least have the backbone to be consistent. The supposed cornerstone, Aaron Judge, is hitting .185. Where’s the outrage there? Or does criticism only apply to the new guy because it’s easier? Judge will be fine. Caballero will be fine.

You know who's not fine? The real problem: Aaron Boone. This guy is a walking, talking example of how to overthink yourself into failure. Nine games in, and he’s already making decisions that would get a Little League coach side-eyed.

You have Paul Goldschmidt—a legitimate, proven hitter—sitting on the bench in a moment where you need a clutch at-bat. And Boone decides, “Nah, I’m good,” and sends up JC Escarra to strike out and end the game. That’s not strategy. That’s incompetence.

At some point, it stops being “just April” and starts being a pattern of stupidity.

And the quotes? My God. Boone calling Volpe “F’in elite” last year was an embarrassment. This year, saying Escarra would be top 10–15 in the league if he played regularly? That’s not even spin—that’s straight-up fantasy. You can practically hear Brian Cashman whispering in his ear while he parrots nonsense to the media.

Boone isn’t managing a baseball team—he’s reading from a script written by a front office that clearly thinks fans are stupid. He is a puppet, there is NO QUESTION.

But here’s the truth: it’s April. This is when teams figure things out, patch holes, and grind out wins however they can. The Yankees didn’t properly fix their roster in the offseason, so yeah, things look messy. Fine. That part is reality.

What’s not reality is trashing a player after nine games while pretending the rest of the roster is above criticism. Going after Caballero right now isn’t just premature—it’s brain-dead. 

If you want to be angry, aim it where it belongs: at the decision-making, at the leadership, at the people who should know better and clearly don’t. I said it before, boycott, but you won't.

Otherwise, spare everyone the outrage. You’re not exposing problems—you’re exposing yourself for being idiots.

TREVOR BAUER IS FIGHTING HIS WAY BACK!

Trevor Bauer is officially back on a U.S. mound—just not the one most people expected. He’s signed with the Long Island Ducks of the Atlantic League, marking his first stateside return to pro baseball since 2021. He’s slated to take the ball on Opening Night, April 21, and honestly, that’s a storyline worth watching.

Now, Bauer has never exactly been “quietly existing” as a public figure—he’s outspoken, polarizing, and often a lightning rod. But his situation has always felt more complicated than Manfred and MLB’s initial reaction suggested. In an era where accusations can move faster than facts, MLB seemed to sprint before the starting gun even went off.  Shame on the MLB.

To recap: in 2021, Lindsay Hill accused Bauer of sexual assault, making serious claims about their encounters. Fast forward to June 2025, and a Los Angeles judge ordered Hill to pay Bauer over $309,000 for repeatedly violating their settlement agreement—mostly through social media claims about receiving money. Then there was a separate civil suit filed in 2023 by another woman, which Bauer said was an attempted $3.6 million shakedown. By April 2024, that accuser had been indicted on fraud-related charges tied to those allegations.

So, what does that all mean? At the very least, it suggests the story wasn’t nearly as one-sided as it was initially portrayed. Whether Bauer has terrible judgment in his personal life or was unfairly cast as baseball’s villain, the full picture is far messier than the league’s early response implied.

Which brings us back to the present: Bauer in a Ducks uniform, trying to pitch his way back into MLB relevance. And in classic Bauer fashion, this won’t be a quiet comeback—he’ll be mic’d up for games and practices all season, turning his return into part baseball, part reality show.

The goal is obvious: prove he still has the stuff and force MLB teams to at least consider giving him another shot.

As for Commissioner Rob Manfred? If Bauer performs and the legal dust has truly settled, the league may eventually have to reckon with how it handled the situation. At minimum, it raises a fair question: did MLB act too quickly, and if so, what does accountability look like on that side of the equation?

Either way, Bauer’s back on the mound in the US—and whether you’re rooting for him or rolling your eyes, you’ll probably be watching.

#FreeTrevor

FIVE TOOL TALENT OR NOT, JONES DOESN'T HAVE WHAT IT TAKES!

I've taken a lot of heat from fans for over a year now about Spencer Jones. I think the Yankees missed the boat and should've cut their losses with Jones a long time ago. It's a harsh reality that I understand some just can't accept. If Jones could turn it around and make me eat my words I'd gladly eat crow. I'm still waiting.....

And I just don't think it is going to happen. I have salivated over guys before in the past and they didn't amount to anything. It happens. I just wonder how much longer we need to wait around and see more of the same and no progression before fans and Yankee brass alike realizes Jones isn't getting better and it's time to strategize for a future without Jones.

This weekend, we saw more smoke and mirrors from Jones. Yesterday, the RailRiders beat the Red Wings 16 to 5. Jones had 5 at bats, he hit a Grand Slam which is what fans love to hear, but he also struck out three times. That's not what I want to hear. I'm tired of the the "you have to take the good with the bad" thought process some fans have. THIS is exactly what is holding Jones back and he's not fixing it. I'm not going to cheer for a grand slam when the kid continues to swing and miss. It's not a trade off!

The season is young, I get it. Regardless of how few games have been played, Jones has 19 strikeouts in 36 plate appearances. This is the same concern the Yankees have had for years now. His spring training looked good, but now we are back to normal....and normal isn't good for Jones. At all. This is why he is not in the big leagues and why he shouldn't even be considered.

Young season or not, he is continuing the same pattern. He strikes out too much, doesn't walk enough and has fleeting moments of greatness. This is not a new problem, it's also not a problem that looks like it is getting better. The Yankees should be concerned, even scouts know it, read more HERE.
"It's early, it's cold and he spent a lot of the spring in big league camp. But you can't strike out half the time, either." That's the truth. 

Jones has over 1,500 at bats in the minors. He's had plenty of time to work on his weaknesses. He needs to stop having fleeting moments of greatness and start showing he can have consistent results and make contact. He has to be more than a "feat or famine" type of player. We've had way too many of those guys. We don't need the new Joey Gallo, we've been there and done that. That's not going to cut it. I really don't think this is a matter of not putting in the work to change the results. He's put in the time, but now we need to start having those tough, honest conversations about if the necessary skill is there. 

So those of you of the opinion of "take the good with the bad" we have a whole roster of that. We've had years of teams with that. There's too much bad compared to the good to keep this insanity going. I don't think Jones has what it takes. I'm sorry to say it....but sometimes you gotta accept the harsh realities. 

--Jeana Bellezza-Ochoa

BYB Senior Managing Editor

Twitter: @nyprincessj

THE YANKEES ARE DOING WHAT THEY'RE EXPECTED TO DO... IN APRIL

But can they do it in the playoffs?

The New York Yankees have come flying out of the gate in 2026, sitting at 6–1 as of April 4 and planting themselves atop the AL East. Early on, it’s been a mix of dominant starting pitching, better depth, and—shockingly—some aggressive base running.

Through the first stretch, Yankees starters have been nearly flawless, allowing just two earned runs. Young arms like Cam Schlittler and Will Warren have stepped up and delivered, helping stabilize things while the bigger names work back into form. Max Fried already has two wins, including a shutout to open the season, while Schlittler made noise immediately with eight strikeouts in his debut.

Offensively, this team looks more alive. In their home opener, they went a perfect 5-for-5 in stolen base attempts, with Jazz Chisholm Jr., José Caballero, and Aaron Judge all getting involved. 

At the plate, Ben Rice has been red hot, hitting .409 with two homers and eight RBIs through seven games. Judge added a blast in the home opener, and Giancarlo Stanton is doing what he does best—four home runs in just 22 plate appearances.

And for once, health hasn’t been a disaster. The Yankees actually made it through spring training with most of their core intact, which feels borderline historic at this point.

But let’s not get carried away.

Because the real question isn’t what they’re doing now—it’s whether they can keep doing it when it actually matters.

The Yankees recently highlighted Aaron Boone reaching 700 managerial wins. That’s nice. Truly. I had my own fun changing it to what fans really care about.  Because, quite frankly, the dude can't close.

For this fanbase, numbers like that don’t move the needle unless there’s a championship attached. Boone wasn’t brought in to collect regular-season wins—he was brought in to win a World Series. Until that happens, milestones feel hollow.

A strong April isn’t something to celebrate—it’s the baseline. This is what the Yankees are supposed to look like. Fans aren’t asking for a good start. They’re asking for a strong finish.

Even when Schlittler says he enjoys the hate, it’s hard not to smirk a little. It’s easy to embrace that mentality in April. Let’s see how that plays in the dog days of summer. No disrespect—but we’ve all seen this before. Different year, same script.

General manager Brian Cashman continues to defend the roster, insisting it’s championship caliber. But as Ian O'Connor wrote in his recent article:

“I’ve been openly willing to challenge anybody that we don’t have a championship-caliber roster and team,” Cashman said in January, when he was already tired of complaints that he was bringing back the same squad that didn’t even reach the ALCS, complaints later notarized by Aaron Judge himself.

“Brutal” and “pretty tough to watch” read the captain’s scouting reports on his team’s early inaction in free agency.

“I’m like, ‘Man, we’re the New York Yankees.’”

And that speaks to the essence of where this team stands right now.

Because the truth is, the Yankees aren’t really the Yankees anymore."

And that’s exactly what we’ve been saying all along here at Bleeding Yankee Blue.

This isn’t a top-tier roster. It’s a collection of good players. The front office leans too heavily on numbers and not nearly enough on the tangibles—the things you can actually see and feel on the field. The edge. The instincts. The moments.

That’s baseball.

Numbers help, sure. But baseball isn’t built on spreadsheets—it’s built on feel.

So yes, the Yankees look dominant in April. But it’s hard to believe that holds up in June. Or August. I really hope so, but I am a realist.

Look, I hope they prove everyone wrong, me included. But I’m already thinking ahead… and the Yankees don’t. And let me be clear, it's not the players... it's the front office that makes bad decisions, Boone included.

And that’s exactly the problem.

ALL EYES ON CARLOS RODON & HIS "SETBACK"

Aaaaannnnndddd we're back. When I say we are back, I mean more than just back to playing meaningful games. The injury bug is also back in early April. Let's just hope it's not a big deal. We get more than our fair share of these big deal injuries.

Last season was tough, we lost a lot of starting pitching. Now that we are soooo close to getting reinforcements back with big name pitchers, it's scary to hear Carlos Rodon with a "setback," read more HERE. 

I know I'd like to know more about how he hurt his hamstring. There seems to be some conflicting information on social media. One tweet I saw said Rodon hurt his hamstring after running Monday. Another one made it sound like he hurt it while he was pitching.

Anytime we have an injury, I get skeptical. I admit it. The Yankees are one of the richest franchises in all of sports and I think they have a horrible medical staff and training and conditioning staff. They should have the best resources that money can buy....and they don't. So when I read reports like these I raise my eyebrows. Then I see Aaron Boone make statements like THIS one today, and it's concerning. I never like Boone's comments they are so idiotic. It went from  "We'll see what we have there," to "I don't think it's that big a deal. Hopefully it's not" and hopefully it doesn't delay his rehab start.

So what is the real story here? Rodon will be back in the Bronx to be present for the home opener and he will be evaluated by the training staff. Hopefully it's nothing and they actually diagnose everything correctly. It would be nice to get Rodon back in May but if the hamstring is worse than the Yankees initially think that may not be possible.

If this is a true setback this would be crappy for the Yankees. We really need the Rodon from last season to return to this team so I am going to put positive vibes out into the universe and cross my fingers and toes for good luck!

--Jeana Bellezza-Ochoa

BYB Senior Managing Editor

Twitter: @nyprincessj

 

IS AARON BOONE'S ABS OBSESSION THE ONLY WAY HE CAN WIN IT ALL?

Baseball has always been a beautifully imperfect game. It breathes, it argues, it gets things wrong—and somehow, that’s always been part of what makes it right.

But here we are in 2026, watching the New York Yankees rack up wins like they’ve discovered a cheat code… and that cheat code has a name: ABS.

Let’s get something out of the way first—Automated Ball-Strike Systems aren’t inherently evil. The idea of getting calls correct isn’t exactly controversial. Nobody walks into a ballpark thinking, “Boy, I hope the umpire absolutely blows a 3–2 pitch in the ninth.” Accuracy has value.

But what’s happening right now feels less like progress and more like overcorrection. And at the center of it all is Aaron Boone, who, at this point, doesn’t just use ABS—he manages for it. The man isn’t managing a baseball team anymore; he’s managing a tech demo.

And yeah, the Yankees are winning. A lot. But does anyone else find it just a little weird that so many of those wins hinge on ABS challenges?

Because that’s the uncomfortable question: are the Yankees playing better baseball… or just better ABS baseball?

Let's face it, Boone’s new playbook is “When in Doubt, Tap the Screen.” There was a time when managing meant instinct. Feel. Reading the moment. You watched your pitcher, studied the batter, trusted your catcher, and yes—even factored in the umpire.

Now? Boone seems one bad call away from reaching for ABS like it’s his emotional support tablet.

Instead of living with the rhythm of the game, he’s constantly looking for an override button. A borderline pitch doesn’t go his way? Challenge it. A hitter doesn’t like a call? Challenge it. The dugout doesn’t feel right? You guessed it—challenge it.

It’s not strategy anymore. It’s dependency.

The ABS challenge system was supposed to be a safety net. Instead, it’s become a crutch—and Boone looks like he’s leaning on it hard.  With ABS, the managerial feel of the game kind of goes away, whether you believe it or no. Baseball has never been about perfection. It’s about adjustments. For decades, players had to figure things out on the fly.

Pitchers and catchers would spend the first few innings decoding the umpire:

• Does he give the low strike?
• Is the outside corner a suggestion or a rule?
• How generous is he on the edges?

That was the chess match. That was the cerebral layer. Now? That entire mental battle is gone. Wiped out by a perfectly calibrated, robotic strike zone that doesn’t change, doesn’t bend, and doesn’t care.

It’s like replacing a jazz band with a metronome. Sure, it’s precise. But it’s also lifeless.

ABS doesn’t just call pitches—it removes the need to understand the game on that deeper level. Players don’t read the umpire anymore. They don’t adapt. They just… comply. And what about the catcher? I guess catching is now a lost art?  I love when catchers frame a pitch.

For over a century, great catchers weren’t just defenders—they were illusionists. They could take a borderline pitch and “present” it in a way that convinced an umpire it clipped the zone. It was subtle. It was skilled. It was an art form.

Now? That art is hanging in a museum labeled “Obsolete.” With ABS enforcing a perfectly accurate zone, framing becomes meaningless. There’s no human to deceive, no judgment to influence. The pitch is either in or out—end of story.

So what happens next? Teams stop valuing elite defensive catchers. Why invest in someone who can steal strikes when there are no strikes left to steal? Instead, the focus shifts to offense-only backstops. Just like that, an entire layer of strategy—one that’s existed for generations—gets stripped away. Baseball doesn’t evolve here. It flattens.

And hovering over all of this is Commissioner Rob Manfred, who seems determined to turn baseball into something cleaner, faster, and more… programmable. The ABS system fits perfectly into that vision. It’s neat. It’s precise. It’s marketable.

But here’s the problem: in chasing perfection, Manfred is sanding down everything that made the game unique. The arguments. The missed calls. The tension between players and umpires. The human drama of it all.

Gone—or at least, fading fast. ABS doesn’t just fix mistakes. It removes character.

Because let’s be honest: nobody has ever told a nostalgic baseball story that starts with, “And then the system confirmed the call with 100% accuracy.” They talk about the blown calls. The heated arguments. The managers losing their minds. The moments that felt alive.

Manfred’s version of baseball feels less like a sport and more like a simulation running on high settings.

Here’s where it all comes together. ABS isn’t just a tool—it’s becoming an addiction in my opinion. Just like GPS can slowly erode your ability to navigate on your own, ABS is eroding baseball’s internal instincts. Players and managers are starting to trust the system more than their own eyes.

And Boone? He might be the poster child.  Every challenge reinforces the habit. Every successful overturn feeds the belief that the system knows better than the game itself.

It creates an adversarial dynamic with umpires, too. Instead of working within the human framework of the game, teams are constantly trying to beat it through technology.

The flow gets choppy. The rhythm breaks. The game starts to feel less like baseball and more like a series of interruptions.

Look, Yankees fans have every reason to enjoy the wins. A W is a W. But it’s fair to ask: what kind of baseball are we watching?

Because if teams start building strategies around exploiting ABS challenges rather than playing the organic, messy, beautifully human game we’ve always known, then something fundamental is changing.

And not necessarily for the better.  Aaron Boone hasn’t just embraced ABS—he’s reshaped his managerial identity around it. In doing so, he’s lost something important: the feel of baseball.

And Rob Manfred? He’s getting exactly what he wants—a more controlled, more predictable version of the sport.

But in the process, we’re losing the quirks, the mind games, the imperfections—the very things that made baseball feel real.  Baseball was never meant to be perfect.

And the more we chase perfection, the more it slips away from being baseball at all.