Imagine If Rice & Chisholm Played Game 1?

If they were, we would have already won this series and be moving on.

Look, there’s an old rule in baseball that doesn’t require an algorithm, a PhD in data science, or a $5 billion front office with a department of 40 people crunching numbers in Excel: play your best players. 

Simple, right? Not for the New York Yankees, who managed to make Game 1 of this series look like a masterclass in self-sabotage.

Ben Rice? Benched. Jazz Chisholm? Invisible until the 8th inning. Two of the most electric players on the roster were treated like spare parts while Aaron Boone and his analytics disciples tried to galaxy-brain their way through the night. Spoiler alert: it didn’t work.

By the time Jazz actually got into the game, the damage was done. And after it was over, he looked furious—and honestly, who could blame him? This is a 30–30 player. He’s the kind of guy who manufactures runs out of thin air, steals energy from the opponent, and injects life into his own team. Yet Boone and his iPad brigade decided the best move was to let him collect dust until it was basically too late. Congratulations, gentlemen, you reinvented the art of wasting talent.

Rice’s situation was just as bad. The kid has been a spark plug, and instead of rolling with him, Boone went with Austin Wells behind the plate. Look, Wells is a nice player in theory, but there’s “serviceable catcher” and then there’s “you left a real hitter on the bench for this?” Rice sitting there while Wells got the start was a move straight from the Yankees’ Book of Bad Decisions—a book Boone has dog-eared to the point of destruction.

And what happened next? Exactly what every fan and every rational baseball mind knew would happen: the Yankees lost. The offense looked lifeless, the energy was nonexistent, and Garrett Crochet made them look like extras in his personal highlight reel.

Now, fast-forward to Game 2. Clearly, the noise from fans and media was deafening enough that the Yankees had no choice but to adjust. Suddenly, Rice was in the lineup—and promptly homered. Jazz was there too, working a gritty seven-pitch walk that turned into a run when Wells of all people drove him in. But the real Jazz moment came when he sprinted around the bases, helmet flying, and beat the throw with a headfirst slide. That’s what happens when you actually unleash your playmakers instead of hiding them.

And now, the series is tied. Just like Bleeding Yankee Blue predicted: loss in Game 1 thanks to Boone and the nerds overthinking themselves, rebound in Game 2 out of necessity. Game 3? The real test.

On the hill will be Cam Schlittler. The kid’s been one of the bright surprises of the year. Sure, he’s had some shaky outings—that’s part of being young—but his stuff is legit. He has the chance to put the team on his back. But here’s the catch: the Yankees’ offense has to show up. They looked alive tonight, but can they sustain it? Or will Boone and his merry band of “data specialists” once again try to outsmart the game of baseball?

Because let’s be honest: this front office is addicted to tinkering. They love spreadsheets more than they love wins. They see a player like Jazz, who thrives on chaos, and immediately try to squeeze him into a neat little algorithm that strips away everything that makes him dangerous. They see Rice’s bat and say, “Well, technically, the numbers say Wells frames pitches better against lefties on odd-numbered days when Mercury is in retrograde.” It’s nonsense. And Game 2 proved it, because sometimes when it comes to athletes, you have to manage with gut and feel.

And then there’s Boone—the king of overreaction. His managerial style is basically one long knee-jerk reflex.  He doesn’t manage games so much as he manages his nerves, and more often than not, it blows up in the Yankees’ faces.

The formula for tomorrow, in my opinion, couldn’t be simpler. Rice behind the plate. Jazz in the lineup. Caballero at shortstop. Let the athletes actually play the game. Hit early, run hard, pile up runs, and give Schlittler room to breathe. Because here’s the thing about the Yankees bullpen: no matter how many times Devin Williams dances out of disaster, it always feels like a grenade with the pin halfway out. You don’t want to hand them a one-run lead and hope for the best. You want insurance runs, and you want them fast.

But will Boone follow the obvious plan? History says no. History says he’ll overthink it, he’ll shuffle the lineup even though this one works, he’ll use his bullpen like a toy chest, and by the 7th inning everyone in the Bronx will be pulling their hair out. This isn’t new. Boone has made a career out of turning winnable games into tragedies. He overthinks, he overtinkers, and he reacts to the wrong situations at the wrong times. And then after the game, he leans into the microphone with that same tired grin and says, “I liked our at-bats.”

Enough. Yankees fans aren’t asking for miracles. We’re asking for common sense. 

Play your best players. Stop worshipping at the altar of bad data. Stop letting Aaron Boone use a playoff game as his personal science experiment.

Tomorrow is a must-win. The Yankees already followed the script: lose Game 1, win Game 2. Game 3 is up for grabs. If Schlittler is sharp, they’ll have a chance. But the real question—the one hanging over everything—is whether Boone and the analytics crew can resist the urge to meddle. Because if they can’t, the Yankees will be doomed by the same thing that’s killed them all season: stupidity from the dugout and the front office.

The Yankees have the talent to win. The only thing standing in their way is their own brain trust. Which, unfortunately, is the dumbest part of the organization.