The Caveman

The headlines are dominated today by the Yankees' acquisition of centerfielder Johnny Damon, formerly of the Boston Red Sox. Aside from the obvious warning signs about agreeing to a contract that will keep in a Yankee uniform until the useless age of 36, there are less sabremetric aspects of this deal that make me wary. Perhaps it could be the onset of an early bout of mid-life spirituality, but I think there are deeper forces at work bringing Damon to the Yankees.

Jason Caple of ESPN.com writes that Damon has committed a grave personal error in signing with the Yankees. To quote: "No, the problem is not that Damon left the Red Sox. The problem is he signed with a team that's all wrong for him. The problem is the dress code." Damon is not a conservative in the mold of DiMaggio, a Yankee hero who was so Puritan that he would not even dive in for a ball because it showed that he had initially misplayed it off the bat, or the current stalwart of Yankee straight and narrow, Derek Jeter, a player who still, at 31, reacts unconditionally to Steinbrenner's requests to "jump" with a dutiful "how high, sir?" Damon will be miserable as a Yankee, as Giambi has been for the few years that he's been here.

What he brings then, is a cloud. The karmic boomerang has finally returned to the Bronx after 84 years of swirling around the New England states. Fight it if you will, but there is something ominous about the signing of Damon. The glimmer of hope that alighted in the eyes of Bostonians during the fabulous run in 2004, is not contained in the personage of Johnny Damon. He carries with him none of the magic or the mythology of a world series run. Rather, the dubious distinction of being a turncoat, and one that has taken the money and run to the highest bidder.