Why Is Boone Celebrating Himself Being A Clown?

Aaron Boone has become the embodiment of everything wrong with the Yankees’ so-called “leadership.” I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: he’s a bad manager. Not mediocre. Not “just inconsistent.” Bad. The man doesn’t understand leadership, motivation, or even how to speak in a way that inspires a clubhouse. Instead, his idea of managing boils down to yelling at umpires over balls and strikes, as if throwing tantrums is a tactical strategy. It isn’t. It never has been. No umpire in history has ever overturned a strike call because a manager screamed loud enough. Boone thinks he’s protecting his players when, in reality, he just makes himself look like a clown.

And speaking of clowns, the latest revelation might be Boone’s most embarrassing yet. YES Network reporter Meredith Marakovits recently discovered a bobblehead in Boone’s office—one that depicts him mid-tantrum during his stupid argument with umpire Laz Diaz in 2023. 

You remember the one: Boone flailing his arms, pantomiming a strikeout, looking like a Little League dad who’d had one too many brews before the game. The best part? Replay showed the pitch was a clear strike. 

Boone wasn’t standing up for his players; he was putting on a performance. A bad one.

This is what Boone apparently finds worthy of commemoration—a tantrum so ridiculous it got him roasted across the league. And yet, there it sits, proudly displayed in his office, like a trophy. The problem is, it is a trophy. Not for success, not for championships, not for anything that matters to Yankees fans. It’s a trophy for being ejected. For being wrong. For being the biggest fool on the field.

Boone has already been ejected 45 times in his managerial career. That’s in just, what, eight years? Compare that to Bobby Cox, who holds the all-time record of 162 ejections—but did it over nearly three decades. Boone is racking them up at a breakneck pace, almost always for the same thing: whining about balls and strikes. That isn’t managing, that’s self-indulgence. And when your defining skill as a manager is getting tossed out of games, you’re not leading—you’re wasting everyone’s time.

The bigger question, though, is why the Yankees allow this nonsense to continue. Why would any serious franchise let their manager not only celebrate such a pathetic moment but make it part of his office décor? Once upon a time, the Yankees measured themselves by championships, by ruthlessness, by demanding excellence. Now, their manager is literally decorating his office with a reminder of how much of a buffoon he looked like. It’s the most unserious thing you could possibly imagine.

This is who Aaron Boone is. Not a leader. Not a motivator. Not even a strategist. He’s a guy who mistakes arguing with umpires for protecting his players, who mistakes tantrums for leadership, who mistakes bobbleheads for trophies. The Yankees, by enabling it, are no longer a serious franchise. And if Boone thinks being immortalized as a bobblehead clown is an honor, then maybe he’s finally found the one role he was born to play.

Do you want me to lace in more historical jabs—like how Steinbrenner would’ve had that bobblehead smashed to pieces by the seventh inning stretch?