Panic and anger are reactions that have become almost second nature in the arena of sports. They’re fueled by radio hosts who spout and scream, or solemnly declare that things just aren’t the way they used to be. They’re ingrained into our collective sporting psyche by talking heads on television and in newspaper columns telling us that players don’t “want it” enough or “lack effort” or “don’t have what it takes.”
Those sentiments are easily left to boil below the surface when one’s favorite team is in a state of prosper. Cubs fans are likely hard-pressed to find misgivings about the club, though there are surely some who will find things to gripe about. However, when a team starts the season 7-10 like the Yankees have, the fervor of discontent sets in. That’s when the nitpicks turn into tragedies of historic scale. It’s when Mark Teixeira’s batting average morphs from being a part of his offensive game to the bane of all existence.
Does Chase Headley really want it? Why is Carlos Beltran’s outfield defense so sluggish and lazy? Why can’t Nathan Eovaldi just use his baseball gods-given velocity to strike guys out?
These questions are callous and in fact lazy themselves. Headley clearly wants it, as the constant look of frustration that’s been on his face shows. Beltran’s outfield defense is slow because the man is a 39-year-old professional athlete with years upon years of wear and tear on his body. He isn’t lazy, as the sermons being given in the Yankee Stadium bleachers would have one believe. He’s simply that slow, and also currently the team’s best hitter. Eovaldi can’t use his 99 mph fastball to fell his enemies because the fastball is straight as an arrow and easy to hit when it’s not being deployed on the outer edges of the strike zone.
There are fine reasons for Yankees fans to be annoyed. The construction of the roster is far from ideal. Brian Cashman is a slave to many mistresses, after all. One tells him to make the team younger as a new age of Yankee baseball begins, another orders that he work in congress with the aging pieces currently in place, and another still, above all, demands that the Yankees walk away from the 2016 season with rings on their fingers. The task is arduous and almost impossible.
Given that the big contracts on the books weren’t going anywhere and that greener pastures lie ahead in future free agent classes, Cashman did a wonderful thing. Not a single player added to the roster was over 30. All of them, even Aaron Hicks, have past success and pedigree. Were the Yankees ever going to be an old-fashioned juggernaut of the Steinbrenner brand? Of course not. Age, a Greg Bird injury and five questionable starting pitchers already being in place saw to that.
Yet despite this inauspicious start to the season, potential still resides deep inside this roster. Michael Pineda will not surrender six runs every time he takes the mound. Luis Severino has only scratched the surface of his potential. Headley and Hicks almost surely won’t hit this poorly for a full year. Aroldis Chapman will soon return to make the best bullpen in the league even better.
Joy cometh in the morning, scripture tells us. It may not always be the truest of sentiments. Morning is when we scrounge for coffee and steel ourselves for the day ahead. But morning represents a fresh start, a new run at the world, unblemished by woe. Past worries matter not in the face of hope. A 7-10 record doesn’t matter when the umpire tells the team to play ball. All that matters is who wins on that particular day in that particular stadium. The rest is naught but inconvenient truths inscribed in the media guide.
A difficult homestand and a sweep at the unlikely hands of Erik Surkamp, Kendall Graveman and Rich Hill leaves a bad taste in the mouth. An improbable slough of left-handed dominance saw to it that the nascent season took on the feeling of one of futility.
This, too, shall pass.
The Yankees will stumble and fall from time to time, as all baseball teams do. They will also rise up and throw off the weight of struggle to slug and pitch and field with glorious aplomb. They’re simply too good and too deep to not make at least a half-hearted attempt at a playoff spot. This season is one of transition, and it should not be a surprise if Cashman is selling and not buying at the trade deadline. However, it should not be a surprise if he buys, or even stands pat. The current roster is not one of the unstoppable forces of old. But it is not nestled up against an unmovable object.
Instead, it is still embryonic and malleable. There is not one member of the team or fanbase that does not wish that the team’s record was 10-7 instead of 7-10. It matters not. The season is 162 games long, not 16. A single game, or even a single week, does not carry the weight of prophecy.
This, too, shall pass.
CC Sabathia will never again be cause to look forward to a game. The emergence of Ivan Nova from the bullpen will always be a high wire act. Dustin Ackley will continue to be prone to awkwardly nudge the ball towards the second baseman at any given moment. But the team, at its core, is good. It was an ugly week, an awful week. It was a week to forget and bury away, dead and gone.
This, too, shall pass. There is quite a bit of baseball left to play. Take a deep breath, drink it in. Enjoy it. And know that the end is not nigh just yet.
Lead photo: Noah K. Murray / USA Today Sports