Boone's Brain Has Left The Building

You ever watch someone fail so hard at their job that you genuinely start to worry they might be doing it on purpose? That’s where we are with Aaron Boone. At this point, it’s not just poor decision-making or lying to the press and fans—it’s just stupid. Yes, I said it. Stupid. And the latest example of Boone’s misguided nonsense? His defense of Anthony Volpe in the face of very real, very deserved fan frustration.

Let’s set the scene: Yankee fans boo when they’ve had enough. Period. We’re not clapping politely in the Bronx. Joey Gallo got booed into the next time zone, and rightly so—he couldn’t hit water if he fell out of a boat. And now, like déjà vu dipped in pinstripes, Volpe is getting the same treatment. He’s not producing. He’s not improving. And he’s certainly not “the guy.”

But does Aaron Boone listen? Nope. He holds a weird, almost unsettling loyalty to Volpe—like he’s guarding some dark Yankee secret. It’s beyond favoritism. It’s delusion. Boone was asked about fans booing Volpe and, in a moment that may go down as the dumbest soundbite in Yankees managerial history, he responded with this gem:

Aaron Boone uses his shirt to explain why he’s not worried about Anthony Volpe getting booed pic.twitter.com/31Qfv3Kl4D

— Talkin’ Yanks (@TalkinYanks) July 30, 2025

“Look, I bet you every guy on this shirt’s been booed here,” he said, pointing to his shirt… which had pictures of Derek Jeter, Babe Ruth, and Lou Gehrig on it.

Boone tried to equate Anthony freaking Volpe—who couldn’t find the strike zone with GPS—to three of the greatest players to ever breathe in Yankee Stadium air. Jeter? The Captain. Ruth? The Sultan of Swat. Gehrig? The Iron Horse. And then there’s Volpe: the struggling, erratic shortstop who’s only “legendary” for lowering fans’ blood pressure by getting benched. Volpe is in the Gallo category.

It’s not even funny anymore. It’s offensive.

Boone went on to wax poetic about how “everyone gets booed,” including Mariano Rivera. Yeah, Mo got booed. After he gave up runs. In the major leagues. In the World Series. Volpe gets booed for botching routine ground balls and hacking at pitches like he’s trying to kill a mosquito with a tennis racket. There’s a difference. A big one.

And look, it’s not Volpe’s fault he was crowned the future King of the Bronx before ever proving he belonged. That’s on the Yankees. That’s on their “trust the projections” analytics team that thought he was going to be Ozzie Smith. Instead, he’s barely hanging on as Jack Wilson with worse instincts.

What’s worse is Boone’s press-conference gaslighting. He acts like we—the fans—are crazy for being upset. Buddy, we’re not asking for Volpe to be perfect. We’re asking for competency. And when we don’t get it? We boo. That’s the Bronx. Deal with it.

Even MLB insider Joel Sherman had acknowledged the Volpe problem the ohter day. His recent report said, “No one should be surprised if they add one more bat before the deadline, preferably right-handed with the ability to play shortstop.” Translation: the Yankees know. The press knows. Everyone except Boone knows.

And it’s not like the team hasn’t made moves. They brought in Amed Rosario. They traded for Jose Caballero. Why? Because Volpe is a liability, plain and simple and I am positive they are “keeping an eye on it”. If he keeps playing like he has—spoiler alert: he will—Joe Maddon’s suggestion makes perfect sense: send him down. Let Caballero, who actually has baseball instincts, take over. He’s fast, smart, right-handed, and doesn’t look like a deer in headlights every time the ball is hit his way. And yes, Caballero can play, unlike Volpe. 

Bottom line: the Yankees made the wrong bet. Boone made it worse. And now, we’re all stuck watching Volpe flail and Boone spin the kind of nonsense that makes you wonder if he’s managing with a Magic 8-Ball.

And while we’re on the subject: Boone isn’t a Yankee legend either. Let’s stop pretending. He hit one big home run in 2003. Great. Did we win the World Series that year? Nope. Yet the Yankees play that home run like it was Gettysburg. Boone was a moment, not a movement. And the only thing more tragic than his presence in Yankee lore is the fact that we now have to watch him protect Volpe like a bodyguard at a boy band concert.

Honestly, they should just bunk together at this point. Call it Camp Clueless.

I love the Yankees. I live and breathe this team. But this? This ain’t it. This is some weird cosplay version of Yankee greatness where accountability died and mediocrity gets a standing ovation. And if this front office, this manager, and this shortstop are the future?

Then maybe the fans should start booing a little louder.