The Yankees Constantly Pick Wrong

The New York Yankees are always doing it. They pick wrong.  They’re the baseball equivalent of duct-taping over a leak and calling it “renovation.” They’re hot, they’re winning, and they’re giving everyone just enough dopamine to ignore the faint but persistent sound of something going wrong.

If you turn the volume down on the win column for a second, you can still hear it:

drip… drip… drip…

Two of those drips in my opinon? Paul Goldschmidt and Austin Wells.  Goldschmidt’s arrival felt like buying a classic car. Sleek. Proven. A little nostalgic. The kind of move that gets a nod of approval—until you actually try to drive it daily. Last year he started hot, then died. That should have been the first indication to not bring him back in 2026.  But they did.

According to MLB.com, Goldschmidt’s second-half fade the year prior raised legitimate questions about declining bat speed and consistency. FanGraphs backed that up, pointing to a dip in hard-hit rates and overall offensive output. Translation: this wasn’t a random cold stretch—it looked like the start of a trend.

Fast forward to now, and the numbers aren’t whispering—they’re yelling. A sluggish slash line around .125/.276/.333 isn’t “working through things,” it’s a blinking dashboard light. According to Baseball Reference, his strikeout rate has climbed to levels he hasn’t touched in over a decade. That’s not good.

And here’s the kicker: the Yankees didn’t need to do this. And if Goldschmidt is about decline, Wells is about something arguably more frustrating—a promise that hasn’t cashed in. Wells was supposed to be a bat-first catcher. That was the whole pitch. You live with the defensive imperfections because the offense makes it worth it.

Right now? The offense is more concept than reality. According to Baseball Savant, Wells’ 2026 production has lagged significantly, with stretches where his wOBA sinks into the low-.200s despite decent contact metrics. That’s often framed as “bad luck,” but the pattern has been persistent enough to raise eyebrows. Add in a strikeout rate north of 26%, and you’ve got a hitter who isn’t just slumping—he’s searching.

Which is a problem, because according to Baseball America, Wells was projected as a middle-of-the-order force. Not a role player. Not a project. A lineup anchor. That version of Wells hasn’t shown up. Where do they get this stuff from?  According to Pinstripe Alley, his plate discipline has improved—he’s walking more, chasing less—but the results haven’t followed. It’s the baseball version of eating healthy and still gaining weight. Technically progress… but not the kind you can see on the scoreboard.

Now look, I’m not a total dick. Wells does bring value behind the plate and I know this. According to MLB.com and Baseball Savant, his pitch framing has been legitimately strong, stealing strikes and helping the pitching staff. That’s not nothing.

But it’s also not everything. Because outside of framing, the defensive profile has holes. According to FanGraphs scouting evaluations, his pop time lags behind top-tier catchers, limiting his ability to control the running game. In simpler terms: runners aren’t exactly losing sleep over his arm.

According to the New York Post, even during this surge, the bottom of the Yankees lineup—including Wells—has struggled badly, posting numbers like a .143 average and a .404 OPS over a meaningful stretch. That’s not a minor issue. That’s a lineup imbalance waiting to be exploited.

Because eventually, the winning cools off. Pitchers adjust. The bloopers stop falling. And when that happens, teams don’t collapse because their stars fail—they collapse because their weak spots get exposed, like Wells, like Goldschmidt.

Right now, Goldschmidt looks like a bet on the past that isn’t paying off in the present. Wells looks like a projection that hasn’t materialized into reality, and both issues were, frankly, foreseeable.

Scouting reports dating back to Wells’ draft—according to Baseball America—questioned whether he’d stick at catcher long-term. 

The Yankees are winning. That part is real, but so are the cracks, and cracks don’t care about your record. They don’t disappear because the team rattled off seven straight. They wait. They widen. And eventually, they demand attention.

I’m a realist, don’t hate me. I call it like I see it.