The Yankees Need To Dump This Bum

 You should be embarrassed!

Another game. Another mistake. Another coddled quote from Aaron Boone. And another round of gaslighting from the Yankees front office, who seem more interested in selling us a fantasy than fielding a team that can actually win a championship. The obsession with Anthony Volpe—Boone’s golden boy, analytics’ love child, and the poster boy for modern Yankee delusion—has reached a breaking point.

Let’s talk about the moment that lit the match in last night’s meltdown. Volpe fielded a routine ground ball with runners on. Instead of throwing home to cut off the tying run—a play even a Little Leaguer would recognize—he decided to unleash his wet noodle of an arm to first base. The runner, Clement, was halfway down the line before Volpe even cocked his arm. Predictably, Clement reached safely, Nathan Lukes took off for third, and the Yankees were stuck watching a slow-motion car crash of their own making. The very next batter, Vladimir Guerrero Jr., delivered a two-run dagger that sealed the deal. Between that and when he made the stupid throw to third base that was botched, I broke my remote when I threw it at the wall.

But here’s the worst part. It was idiotic.  Volpe himself chimed in with a line so tone-deaf it could’ve been written by the Yankees PR department: “We’re going to be aggressive, try to make plays, and back up the pitcher. So that’s baseball. It happens.”

It happens? You saying that after a Tuesday in April is one thing. But it’s July. These games matter. And when you’re a shortstop in New York, the most demanding baseball town in America, with a supposed Gold Glove pedigree, you don’t get to screw up like that and hide behind buzzwords. You either make the right play or you’re not who they said you were.

Anthony Volpe is now officially exposed. He is not an elite shortstop. He is not a generational talent. He’s not even average right now. He plays the infield like his dad’s sitting behind the backstop with a checklist. Everything is tight, overthought, and hesitant. He’s trying so hard to not screw up, he forgets how to play the game. And Boone? Boone enables it. Because Boone loves nothing more than loyalty—except maybe blind loyalty.

And the front office? A disaster. They handed the keys to shortstop—arguably the most important defensive position on the field—to a kid who never played above Double-A and thought, “Yeah, that’ll fix it.” They don’t use the eye test. They use Excel sheets. They scroll through WAR, launch angle, and exit velocity and declare Volpe the chosen one. Meanwhile, the games are slipping away, one brain-dead throw at a time.

This is the kind of move you expect from the Pirates. The Rockies. The Marlins. Not the goddamn Yankees. But here we are, knee deep in the Anthony Volpe experiment, and it’s looking more and more like a disaster science fair project.

And now, finally, there are whispers—actual whispers—that the Yankees may be looking to replace him. And the name that keeps surfacing? Bo Bichette.

Yes, please.

Bo Bichette is everything Volpe pretends to be. Confident. Powerful. Consistent. Fearless. The guy’s a two-time All-Star, two-time AL hits leader, and walks with the swagger of someone who knows he belongs. FanSided’s Stephen Parello even proposed it outright: the Yankees should go after Bichette in free agency. He wrote, “Bichette would give the Yankees a much higher floor with the same superstar ceiling… He’d cost more in terms of cash than Volpe, but after years of no significant improvement, the cost is warranted.” Translation? Pay the man. Dump the myth.

At this point, give me Bichette’s bat, his confidence, his pedigree, his everything. Because the Yankees need better. We’ve had enough of soft throws, frozen faces, and postgame excuses.

Volpe lost the game last night. Point blank. And this wasn’t a one-off. This has become a pattern. And for a team with October dreams, you can’t afford dead weight at shortstop. You certainly can’t afford delusion at shortstop.

The Yankees handed the job to a kid with no college experience, barely any minor league seasoning, and a few highlight clips from Somerset. They made him the face of a position that has been home to legends. And instead of developing him correctly, they threw him to the wolves. They’re not just ruining their season—they’re ruining him.

The Anthony Volpe Era needs to end. Not because the fans are impatient. Not because we hate the kid. But because we love the Yankees. And watching this front office cling to their Volpe fantasy while Boone coddles him like he’s his third son is insulting.

Boone has to stop managing with his heart and start using his brain. And if the Yankees have any self-respect left as a franchise, they’ll admit their mistake, pick up the phone, and start planning for a future without Volpe at short.

Because right now? Anthony Volpe absolutely sucks. And we’re tired of pretending he doesn’t.