Cashman Panics After Fan Uproar, Signs A Starter Past His Prime

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Maeda, now 37, hasn’t exactly been fooling hitters lately. This year with the Tigers, he’s made seven appearances and posted a bloated 7.88 ERA. That’s not a typo. He’s barely managed to strike out more batters than he’s walked — and he’s only pitched eight innings total. That’s not a sample size, it’s a cry for help.

Last year? Seventeen starts. 6.09 ERA. That’s not a starter — that’s the kind of guy your offense circles on the calendar and drools over. Honestly, at this point, Maeda is the Anthony Volpe of starting pitching — all hype, no delivery, and a lot of polite shrugs from the coaching staff.

But here come the Yankees’ marketing folks, already typing up the press release to sell him to the fans. “Veteran presence.” “Playoff experience.” “Proven track record.” Sure. And I’m the next shortstop.

If Maeda is a solution, then the Yankees’ problem is way worse than we thought.

Look — I’ve been getting emails, phone calls, and smoke signals from the Yankees’ ticket office recently asking me if I’m interested in ticket packages. I know I’m not the only one.  I feel like they might be in crisis mode over there. 

Not since the A-Rod suspension days has the franchise been this desperate to fill seats. And instead of fixing the rotation with a real pitcher, they bring in a reclamation project who couldn’t hack it in Detroit or the Cubs — a team whose fans bring brown bags to the ballpark.

This isn’t shrewd roster-building. This is tossing a bucket of water on a five-alarm fire and hoping nobody notices. And don’t give me that “he finished second in Cy Young voting in 2020” spin — that was five years, one pandemic, and two elbow issues ago. That Maeda is gone. The guy we just signed is a Japanese Carlos Carrasco.

So, what are we doing here? Rolling the dice? Wishing on a star? Asking the ghost of George Steinbrenner for divine intervention?  Because this isn’t how the Yankees used to operate. This is how small-market teams act when they can’t afford better. This is the Rays with a trust fund.

And here’s the kicker: there’s no guarantee Maeda even sees the Bronx. He might spend the rest of the year in Scranton, cashing minor league per diems and reminiscing about his time with the Dodgers. And if he does make the big club? Let’s be honest — it won’t be because he earned it. It’ll be because the Yankees ran out of arms, ideas, and dignity.

Cashman isn’t building a contender. He’s cleaning up his own mess with duct tape and expired scouting reports because fans are pissed. So, to recap: the Yankees are sinking, the fans are furious, and the front office’s solution is to sign a struggling 37-year-old pitcher to a minor-league deal. Panic mode engaged.

Good luck selling that with your next ticket package pitch.