Everyone Knows Volpe Is Not The Answer At Short

Caballero has confidence. Volpe has confusion. It’s pretty simple.

The fact that Anthony Volpe is still being treated like the Yankees’ unquestioned starting shortstop after everything we watched this season is absolutely wild to me. In a rational universe, his job status should’ve been under review the minute the postseason ended. In a just world, it would’ve been outright revoked. And in a serious baseball operation, Brian Cashman would’ve at least gotten a stern talking-to for authorizing one of the most stubborn shortstop commitments in recent memory.

But no. Instead, Cashman does what Cashman does best: doubles down, ducks accountability, and tap-dances through reporter questions like he’s auditioning for So You Think You Can Spin? Asked about the Yankees’ shortstop future now that José Caballero is in the mix, Cashman went full fortune cookie.

You can’t predict journeys. You can’t predict impact. You can’t predict… anything, apparently—except that Volpe will keep getting chances no matter what the eye test, stat sheet, or common sense says. Playing time, we’re told, is “earned.” The game “separates the men from the boys.” Very inspirational stuff. Really stirring. Also completely disconnected from reality.

Because anyone with functioning eyeballs can see what’s happening here. José Caballero is simply a better shortstop. Not hypothetically. Not someday. He is.

Caballero brings real athleticism. Legit speed. Smart, aggressive baserunning. A steady glove. Energy. Grit. The kind of player who actually impacts winning even if he’s not launching moonshots into the bleachers. He creates runs. He stabilizes the infield. He pressures defenses. He plays like someone who understands that every pitch matters.

Volpe? Volpe brings frustration.

Poor at-bats. Too many strikeouts. Defensive miscues that pop up at the worst possible times. Mental lapses. Failed bunts. And yes—boos raining down from a fanbase that knows the difference between growing pains and chronic underperformance. Flashes of power don’t cancel out the nightly chaos. They just make it more annoying.

This is the New York Yankees. Not a daycare. Not a long-term science experiment. Not a “let’s see if it finally clicks in Year X” rehab center. If you don’t have it, you don’t get unlimited patience—especially at shortstop, and especially in the Bronx.

And here’s the kicker: Cashman knows all of this. He has to. Yet for some reason—organizational pride, stubbornness, sunk-cost delusion, or maybe he just really likes the kid—Volpe remains penciled in like this debate doesn’t even exist.

The one sliver of good news? Volpe won’t be ready for Opening Day. After shoulder surgery in October to repair a partially torn labrum—an injury that lingered since May—he’s expected to miss the start of the season and won’t be cleared to dive for a while. Late April. Maybe early May.

Which means Caballero gets the stage.

And I’m hoping—praying—that during that window, Caballero shows New York exactly what competent, winning shortstop play looks like. That the position stabilizes. That the infield breathes. That we all collectively realize, “Oh… this is what it’s supposed to look like.”

Will it matter? Probably not. The Yankees have dug their heels in deep on Volpe. Too deep. He was oversold, overhyped, and overprotected. And frankly, he doesn’t have the mental or physical makeup to handle shortstop in the biggest market in baseball.

Maybe he’d thrive somewhere quieter. Somewhere with lower expectations. Miami, maybe. Somewhere the boos don’t echo.

But here? In the Bronx?

This isn’t it.