(EDITOR’S NOTE : From time to time, legendary Bronx baseball executive Randy L. visits CSTB to weigh in on the meaty matters of the day, sporting and otherwise. With the New York Yankees facing heavy criticism over their acquisition of All-Star reliever / accused domestic abuser Aroldis Chapman, Randy offered, no he totally insisted on having his say – GC)
Greeting and a very Happy New Year to all members of the Yankee Universe and the petty, envious, also-rans who typical hold us to standards they’d never dream of applying to a breeding ground for criminality like the one in Queens. But enough about Jeff Wilpon’s executive box, let me address some of your concerns surrounding our daring, you might even say genius move to enlist Aroldis Chapman in our effort to end a championship drought of some half-dozen years.
I realize some of the reports surrounding Chapman’s conduct in Cincinnati are deeply troubling, but are we really living in a society where a young man’s character can be judged by one isolated, albeit highly regrettable incident? If so, consider the virtual Old Timer’s Day lineup of Yankee greats who at one time or another received a first, second or third chance from the late, great George Steinbrenner, the man who frequently called me “the Jewish son I never had,” (decorum and simple human decency prevented me from recording Mr. Steinbrenner ever saying this out loud, but you could see the real sentiments in his eyes) ; Steve Howe, Darryl Strawberry, Dwight Gooden, Luis Polonia, Jose Canseco, David Cone, Chad Curtis, Jim Leyritz, Chuck Knoblauch, Joe Pepitone, Andruw Jones, C.C. Sabathia, Alex Rodriguez…need I continue?
You cannot fashion a 25 man lineup exclusively composed of choirboys. I mean, you can, but chances are very slim they’ll be any sort of a baseball team worth watching, even if their voices are fantastic and they’re quite handsome. I mean, look no further than our own General Manager, Brian Cashman, a man whose high-risk sexual escapades with dangerously delusional librarians exposed this franchise to at least as much ridicule as acquiring the game’s best closer. At least that’s what I told Cashman when ORDERING HIM to get the Chapman deal done, no matter what a bunch of social justice whiners had to say about it.
If it turns out after MLB’s extensive investigation that Mr. Chapman is guilty of serious misdeeds, I am fully confident that Commissioner Manfred will take appropriate action (even if he barely did dick about a certain contractual albatross that we’re still stuck with). But what kind of message would the World’s Greatest Professional Sports Franchise be sending if we denied an otherworldly talent like Aroldis Chapman the opportunity to make a living, while at the same time, burying Brian Cashman’s transgressions, pretending that he’s not a walking, talking trigger-warning for a large segment of our fan base (ie. every female whose spouse or significant other has internet access)?
I realize most of this blog’s readers are lonely, desperate males prone to project their predictable anxieties on others, but lucky for the Yankee Universe, I’m way more evolved. It’s out of deep respect for women that I routinely hold Cashman’s feet to the fire. And I’m not using a euphemism here. There’s an actual fire pit and I’m talking about his bare feet.
This entire matter can be resolved thru what I like to call “Goofus & Gallant” mentoring. If I simply provide Chapman with a married couple who can serve as role models (ie. Gallant), and a reprobate ex-husband who can serve as an example of what NOT TO DO (ie. Goofus), it’s gonna be smooth sailing for the 2016 New York Yankees. A weekend or two in the company of our Michael Kay and the lovely Jodi Applegate should be a behavioral blueprint. A mere hour or two watching Cashman swiping left and right on what he very hopefully calls a “smartphone” should also be a very teachable moment, if not one that is thoroughly nauseating.