NEW YORK – The New York Yankees season was collapsing again, like every year since Aaron Judge arrived in the Bronx, jumping too fast to another failure. From April to September, Judge had lived what looked like the idealized baseball life, full of acclaim and records, so prolific that his name and a special number in baseball lore became intertwined to the point of becoming indistinguishable. The judge, all this time, never paid any attention to it. As the world fixed its collective gaze on him, on his accomplishments, he looked to this moment, October at Yankee Stadium. And it was going so much differently in reality than in his mind.
Nothing about his demeanor has changed, not so long as the outs left in the season have faded, as the truth of his disappointing postseason has contributed to the gloomy atmosphere of the ballpark, like the specter of his future and s he would wear a tuned Yankees uniform again. The judge could have twirled around the outfield to catch sight of all the familiar sights of his triumph, do something to recognize the emotion, the pure kind of love that only the greatest of stars feels with the city that deifies his rise. But no. It would have been a betrayal of himself.
Judge rose to the pinnacle of his sport through rigor and accuracy, convinced that a blind, perfectly simple existence, as neat as the pinstripes of his jersey, would give him the championship that meant more to him than obsessed with others. . The ninth inning arrived, as did 170 other ninth innings this year, and the context of it, the urgency, did nothing to alter its entrenched ways. He ran to right field. Warmed his arm. Tossed the ball into the stands for a fan to cherish. I saw the Yankees record three outs. Back in the canoe. Entered the circle on the bridge. Took a few swings. Moved to the batter’s box. Inhaled a deep breath. Swing and miss. Looked at the second shot. And overcame a slider to the pitcher to save the Yankees’ 2022 season finale, the year that was his until it was no longer.
Before Judge returned to the dugout, “New York, New York” had started playing over the stadium speakers. If he could do it here, he could do it anywhere, and that was no longer a guess. His season was over. Free agency beckons. Judge is the best local Yankee since Derek Jeter — “It’s the planet,” said CC Sabathia, a mentor and former Yankees teammate, “that everything revolves around” — and this offseason he’ll choose where he plays next. For someone as disciplined as Judge, someone who says the same prayer of thanks and grace every time he steps into the right field to start a game, who worships stability and consistency, this winter , and the many unknowns it contains, will rock this axis-planet more than anything at this stage of his career.
Judge has spent his entire professional life in baseball as a Yankee. In May of his rookie year, Yankee Stadium’s famous traditional guards built a special section, the Judge’s Chamber, filled with wood paneling, in the right field stands. This season, his pursuit of the American League home run record that had stood for six decades – and before that was held by Babe Ruth – has captured the attention of millions and a multiplicative number of dollars. In six years, Judge and the Yankees have become a couple that feels as perfectly suited as any in baseball.
“He’s a perfect example of a New York Yankee,” Yankees first baseman Anthony Rizzo said. “His behavior, the way he behaves on the pitch, the way he behaves off the pitch.”
Until Judge’s successful pursuit of a record 62nd home run, the Yankees’ brand hadn’t been so closely associated with current excellence since their 2009 championship, a fact that should theoretically make his comeback a matter of when rather than if. And yet, the coming winter is anything but linear. Los Angeles offers sunshine and victory, San Francisco an easy drive for his devoted parents to make the small central California town where he grew up, a Queens borough to play for the Mets an option if Judge likes the signs New York exteriors without the pitfalls of being a Yankee. It’s a mess of curves and twists, sales pitches and posturing, fantastic sums of money and the duties that dollars entail. Judge, the son of two educators, is already a wealthier man than he could have ever imagined. He was making $19 million this year and during the season committed to a deal that is expected to exceed $300 million.
That’s still true, even after Judge went 5 for 36 in seven postseason games. That final capped a 1-for-16 performance in a humiliating American League Championship Series sweep by Houston. Two terrible weeks won’t stop any owner from remembering what Judge did this season to get the Yankees there in the first place. In OPS’ second most hostile batting environment in 30 years – only 2014’s .700 was lower than this season’s .706, and it’s been half a century since batting average and on-base percentage Worst – Judge was like head and shoulders above his peers in punching like he is in stature.
But as scattered boos rained down from Yankee Stadium, as they once did on Jeter, they were stark reminders that being a Yankee is byzantine, obtuse – contrary to Judge’s straightforward point A to point B approach. That’s what complicates his comeback, which industry-wide is seen – perhaps wrongly – as a done deal: even if he’s built for New York, is New York built for him?
Amid the hunt this fall, the 30-year-old judge made it clear every time he spoke that wins mattered more to him than home runs, that he would happily eschew aesthetics for something more substantial. He operated on a fixed ideology: the more wins, the better the team. The better the team, the more likely it is to end a World Series drought that has lasted a dozen years. As enthralled and captivated as the home runs are, they were just a means to an end that goes beyond 62 and hinges around 28, the next championship number for the Yankees.
As the home runs piled up, excellence morphed into a quest, and history became a reality, Judge spoke about individual achievement in the plural — us, us, our. His allergy to speaking in the first person continued as he led baseball with 131 RBI, 133 runs, .425 on-base percentage, .686 hitting percentage, 391 total bases and 11.5 FanGraphs wins in the above the replacement. All the while, as he built this one-season monolith, he flashed back to his college days, where his coach fined players $1 every time they said “I” or “me. ” or “my”.
It’s one of the reasons the Yankees are perfect for Judge, who sees himself as a piece of a machine, a cog that might as well have gone unnamed, worthy of the only team whose jerseys don’t. identify players only by number. In all stadiums this summer and fall, jerseys with his number 99 on the back filled the stands.
But this winter, Judge faces a decision he will have to make. There is no “we” in free will. It is him, alone, in full control of his own actions, which is not necessarily an unknown position. He is the author of one of the most remarkable regular seasons in the history of a century-and-a-half-old game amid the rejection of the $213.5 million contract extension offer of the Yankees over seven during spring training. Even then, Judge revealed a glimpse of the self-confidence that will have to wear him this winter.
On that April day, Yankees general manager Brian Cashman released details of the offer, irritating Judge. Rizzo, with whom he became closer in a short time, inquired about it shortly after. The judge’s answer is still close to his heart today.
“Don’t you think I’m worth more?”
#season #life #Aaron #Judge #faces #lifechanging #decision