Bellinger Is Keeping Us All Guessing

I hate the games within the game. Baseball used to be simple: pitch the ball, hit the ball, pray the bullpen doesn’t spontaneously combust. But thanks to Scott Boras—Baseball’s Self-Appointed Emperor of Drama—we now have offseasons that feel like hostage negotiations run by a guy who thinks he’s starring in Succession.

Let’s get one thing straight: Scott Boras absolutely wrecked the sport’s sanity. Oh, he’s phenomenal at getting his clients rich. Nobody disputes that. If you’re a player and you want a gold-plated jacuzzi installed in your contract, Boras is your guy. He will squeeze every owner until they’re begging for mercy and signing checks with shaky hands. But if you’re a fan? Forget it. Boras has turned free agency into a months-long opera where every aria ends with, “Sources say he’s considering all 30 teams.”

He’s great for his players, sure. But for baseball? He’s like putting greased wheels on a runaway shopping cart and rolling it down a hill.

Look at Pete Alonso. Boras pushed him so hard last year he practically emerged from negotiations like a bag of overworked laundry—wrinkled, mishandled, and marked “fragile.” By the time the dust settled, Alonso could only swing a one-year deal with the Mets. Why? Because Boras dragged him through a circus so long that teams just watched from afar, sipping coffee and whispering, “Yeah… we’re good.”

Then Alonso said “enough,” walked himself back to Queens, and delivered a monster season—because he took control. Not Boras. Alonso saved Alonso.

Now we pivot to Cody Bellinger, whose offseason story already feels like it was co-written by Boras and a malfunctioning Instagram algorithm.

Let’s run down what we actually know:

• Bellinger is a free agent.

• He was a Yankee.

• The Yankees would like him back.

• That’s it. That’s the whole plot so far.

And then he posts a photo of himself in a blank, logo-less hat—basically the baseball equivalent of entering the Witness Protection Program—and now we’re left squinting at social media like it’s a Dan Brown novel. Anytime Boras is involved, everything feels like a coded message:
Is he hinting at something? Is he trolling? Are we supposed to “decode” the hat?

Meanwhile, the Yankees—masters of slowness, champions of hesitation, pioneers of dragging things out until other teams actually finish their business—continue to “monitor the situation.” Cashman says he wants Bellinger back. And sure, he says it with conviction… but he said he wanted pitching for the last five years and somehow still ended up signing guys who need immediate Tommy John brochures printed for them.

Other teams—the Dodgers, the Mets—are already lurking with actual intent. You know, that thing the Yankees used to have before Cashman started approaching offseasons like a man shopping for a winter coat but refusing to buy one until spring arrives.

And here’s the kicker: Bellinger isn’t some middle-of-the-road gamble. The guy mashed in 2025:
.272 average, 29 homers, 98 RBIs, 89 runs across 152 games.
At Yankee Stadium? He basically turned the place into his personal amusement park:
.909 OPS, 18 bombs in 80 games.

Defensively? He was great—center field, left field, right field, first base. Plug him anywhere and he excels. He was good for the Yankees, great for the Bronx, and honestly one of the rare Cashman acquisitions that didn’t require an apology letter later.

But here we go again:
Boras playing chess while pretending it’s 4D underwater reverse chess.
Cashman sitting there staring at the board like the pieces might move on their own.
Yankees fans waiting like we’re in line at the DMV.

Will Boras inflate Bellinger’s market into the stratosphere? Probably.
Will Cashman drag his feet until the Dodgers or Mets swoop in? Wouldn’t shock a soul.
Will this turn into another offseason where the Yankees act like they have all the time in the world while every other team is out there actually doing things? Almost certainly.

So now we wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.

All because Scott Boras loves long, dramatic offseasons…
And Brian Cashman loves moving at the speed of a chilled glacier.

Baseball deserves better.
The Yankees need Bellinger.
The Bronx wants Bellinger.

But will this front office actually beat Boras’ game for once?
Or will they get played—again?

Pull up a chair. The circus is in town.