A Disgraceful Showing & A Manager That Is Not Qualified To Be There

Sure, you can blame the Yankees for not hitting — and believe me, that’s fair — but what’s truly infuriating over these last two games is how this so-called “dominant repeat” team has looked anything but dominant. Remember the hype? The 2025 Yankees were supposed to bulldoze the league. They were supposed to be the 2024 encore tour — louder, meaner, unstoppable. Instead, we got a front office asleep at the wheel, a manager without a plan, and a dugout full of players being micromanaged like lab experiments. The word MICROMANAGING is the key to all of this, folks.

Aaron Boone — the master of mediocrity — has once again proven he’s not qualified to lead this team. I don’t care how many spreadsheets they hand him, how many analytics reports Cashman’s army of interns print out — this man couldn’t manage a lemonade stand at a Little League game. He’s a “vibes” guy surrounded by people who think spin rate wins championships. The result? A team that looks robotic, joyless, and flat-out lost.

Even Luke Weaver hinted last night that he’s being told things about how he’s performing and needs to adjust — that’s me paraphrasing, but the message was clear: he’s being micromanaged to death, which ultimately has him second guessing and sucking. 

Somewhere in the bowels of Yankee Stadium, a bunch of front-office statisticians are dissecting every breath these guys take and it’s destroying this team. How do you expect anyone to play freely like that? It’s baseball, not a coding competition. You can’t play instinctive, winning baseball when every decision — from pitch selection to defensive positioning — has to pass through a corporate algorithm.

And that brings me to today’s disaster. The Yankees, who supposedly can hit anyone, couldn’t even touch Trey Yesavage. His first postseason start. A kid with four regular-season games under his belt. I called it before the game — the Yankees wouldn’t hit him. Why? Because they’ve never hit unfamiliar pitching and there ain’t much data for the loser nerds in the back office. It’s tradition at this point. Some rookie shows up, throws strikes, and suddenly the Yankees are swinging like they’ve never seen a baseball. Yesavage didn’t need to be special — he just needed to be unknown.

Max Fried? He wasn’t great. Gave up five runs. But the Yankees didn’t hit either and they probably could win the game if Fried’s in longer. But, like clockwork Boone — naturally — made it worse. In comes Will Warren. Now listen, Warren isn’t a bad pitcher. He’s fine. But at this point in the season, he’s the mop-up guy. The “get us through this without embarrassment” guy. And Boone, in his infinite wisdom, decided that was the moment to call his number. Bottom line, Fried had more in the tank to allow the Yankees a shot and Boone didn’t allow it. It’s like watching someone pour gasoline on a fire, then complain about the smoke.

And let’s not pretend Game One was any better. We all knew Luis Gil wasn’t going to outduel Kevin Gausman. Everyone did except Aaron Boone. You don’t start the kid against Gausman in Game One of the ALDS — not unless you enjoy digging your own grave. But Boone did it anyway, because his gut told him to. Translation: the analytics team told him to. Gausman is a bona fide ace — filthy stuff, veteran poise — and we treated him like a pop quiz we forgot to study for.

Meanwhile, the rotation depth I’ve been screaming about since April? Nonexistent. Fried and Rodón are your only dependable starters, and “dependable” is a stretch. Rodón is a coin flip every start. I said it all year: the Yankees’ rotation was shallow. I said it at the trade deadline when Cashman decided to collect four closers instead of adding a starter. FOUR. The man stockpiled relievers like he was preparing for an apocalypse. What good is that when your starters can’t get through five innings?

This is not a pitching staff. It’s a house of cards built by a GM who’s lost touch with how to construct a winner. Brian Cashman has spent the last few seasons convincing himself that he’s the smartest man in baseball, when in reality he’s the most stubborn. He can’t admit when he’s wrong, so instead of correcting mistakes, he doubles down on them. Cashman’s been running the Yankees like a tech startup — data-driven, buzzword-heavy, emotionally empty. The man who once built dynasties now builds spreadsheets.

And as bad as that is, let’s talk about Austin Wells. I like the kid’s spirit, but he’s been exposed. Can’t hit. Can’t frame as well as he thinks he can. And the most important part which is obivous at this point, Can’t call a game. Thurman Munson caught through broken bones and World Series pressure. Austin Wells sits more in one season than Munson did in his entire career. And it shows. Our pitchers look lost. There’s no rhythm, no leadership behind the plate. Wells calls games like he’s guessing what pitch Boone’s spreadsheet wants next.

And Anthony Volpe — I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again — he’s not the answer right now. We needed him the most today. What did we get? Two strikeouts, zero fight. If you can’t rise up in moments like this, what’s the point? We’ve protected him, pampered him, and excused him all year. Enough. You either produce or you don’t. The Yankees can’t keep giving away at-bats in October because someone might develop in 2027.

This team has no edge. None. They’ve gone soft. The fire that once defined the Yankees — gone. Mike O’Hara, who writes for Bleeding Yankee Blue, texted me tonight and said it best: “Volpe is a disappointment. The team looks lifeless. Cam will pitch 3, 5, and 7 at this rate.” You gotta hand it to Mike — he still believes. But how can any of us, really? This team doesn’t look like they want to win. They look like they’re waiting for someone to tell them how to.

And Boone? He’ll walk into that postgame presser, blow his bubblegum, and mumble the same clichés. “We had good swings.” “We just ran into a better team.” Spare me. You didn’t run into a better team. You got out-managed, out-prepared, and out-hustled. Boone is an excuse machine in a uniform. He manages like a man allergic to accountability.

The Yankees are now down 0–2 in the ALDS, and does anyone feel good about this team? Be honest. You can’t. Because deep down, we all know what the problem is: the front office is complacent, the manager is clueless, and the roster is built for mediocrity. Boone doesn’t inspire players — he babysits them. Cashman doesn’t build winners — he builds “projects.” And the analytics department has turned this proud franchise into a collection of decimal points and theories.

This isn’t a bad week. This is who they are. They played catch-up tonight just like they’ve been playing catch-up all season — because bad decisions have consequences. Remember August? Total collapse. Boone “rested” players, managed scared, and the team fell apart. You don’t rest your way into a World Series. You fight. You grind. You lead. And the Yankees have done none of that.

So yeah, yell at me if you want. Tell me I’m negative. Say I’m repeating myself on Bleeding Yankee Blue. But guess what? I’m right. This team isn’t built for a championship — never was. I said it in January 2025, said it in July, and I’m saying it now: the Yankees need to clean house. READ MY ARCHIVE. From the front office, to Boone, to the coaching staff. Complacency kills, and this team’s been flatlining since the All-Star break.

Boone sucks. Cashman’s vision is outdated. The analytics crew runs the show. The players look like they’re drowning in instructions. And the fans — the real ones — we’re left watching the same movie every October.

If the Yankees want to win again, it starts with this: humility. Fire Boone. Rebuild leadership from the top down. Put baseball people back in charge — not computer people.

Because right now? The New York Yankees are a numbers experiment masquerading as a ballclub — and the results are in. Failure.

#FireBoone
#FireCashman
#WakeUpYankees