The facts
The New York Yankees are one loss from elimination after an embarrassing 5-2 defeat to the Tampa Bay Rays in Game 2 of the American League Division Series on Monday at Tropicana Field in St. Petersburg, Florida. The Rays lead the best-of-five series 2-0.
The Yankees committed four errors, one short of their franchise record for a single postseason game. Three of them came in the bottom of the first inning, a new franchise record for the most errors in one inning of a playoff game. It happened in front of a raucous sellout crowd of 40,226.
Manager Aaron Boone had kept third baseman Ryan McMahon in the lineup because he wanted to "prioritize the defense". McMahon promptly whiffed on Yandy Díaz’s leadoff chopper. Shortstop George Lombard Jr. then ranged up the middle and flipped to second for a force, but second baseman Jazz Chisholm Jr. tried an off-balance throw to first for the double play that bounced past the bag, letting Díaz score. Catcher Austin Wells added a catcher’s interference that wiped out a strikeout.
Starter Cam Schlittler, who racked up a career-high 24 whiffs and 10 strikeouts against Boston in the wild-card round, generated just seven whiffs and tied a career low with two strikeouts across 4 1/3 innings. He gave up four runs, two of them earned. The Yankees’ only offense was a pair of solo home runs by Ben Rice. They have scored twice in 18 innings in the series after suffering a one-hit shutout in Game 1.
The fifth inning finished them. With runners on second and third, Chisholm fielded Liam Hicks’ weak tapper and took the out at first instead of going home, putting Tampa Bay up 2-1. Chandler Simpson’s chopper then got past Lombard as he tried to come home, allowing another run. Boone pulled Schlittler for Brent Headrick, Lombard’s throw to first was dropped by Luis García Jr., and Richie Palacios delivered a two-run single to make it 5-1.
Boone’s verdict: “Obviously, tonight was just not good enough for us and certainly not good enough to beat that club,” adding “We’ve got to get over it, and playing for our lives [Wednesday] night.” The Yankees head home needing Max Fried to extend the season in Game 3, with Carlos Rodón lined up for a potential Game 4.
Our take
Aaron Boone, you absolute fucking clown. You stood there before a win-or-go-home playoff game and decided the solution was to "prioritize the defense." You penciled in Ryan McMahon, a man whose glove you apparently trusted, to play third base. On the very first pitch of the game, a routine chopper comes his way. He fucking whiffed. He missed it. Your grand defensive priority lasted one goddamn batter. That's not a plan, you dickhead, that's a public confession of terminal stupidity.
From there, your shit-show infield decided to put on a clinic in how to fuck up a baseball game with your bare hands. Three errors in the first inning. A new franchise record for the Yankees in a playoff inning. In front of 40,000 people. Your shortstop flips to second, and your second baseman, Jazz Chisholm Jr., decides the play is to pirouette like a ballerina and heave a dying quail toward first that bounces into the dugout, letting a run score. Your catcher then commits interference to wipe out a strikeout. It was a symphony of assholes, each movement more pathetic than the last.
Your pitcher, Cam Schlittler, who looked like a god against Boston, got exactly two strikeouts because he was too busy watching his teammates impersonate a fucking clown car. Four errors total, one short of the team's postseason record. Your offense, for its part, managed two solo homers and fuck-all else. Two runs in eighteen innings. You are being outscored by your own fielding mistakes.
The fifth inning was the final, rancid cherry on this shit sundae. With runners in scoring position, Chisholm fields a weak tapper and, instead of throwing home to keep the game tied, takes the sure out at first like a fucking coward. The next chopper goes through your shortstop's legs. You pull the pitcher, and the new guy immediately watches another throw get dropped. A two-run single follows. Game over. Season almost over. You built this, you prick.
Now you slink back to the Bronx, down 2-0, mumbling that it wasn't good enough and you're "playing for our lives." No shit it wasn't good enough. You prioritized defense and got a historic display of defensive shit. Your brand of baseball is now officially defined by record-setting ineptitude. You need a miracle from Max Fried, but the real miracle is that you still have a job after that fucking disgrace. You and your team of stumblebums didn't just lose a game; you pissed on a legacy and called it strategy.
