Matt Blake Doesn't Get To Tell Us How To Feel As Fans

Devin Williams can’t handle the pressure of pitching in the Bronx. That’s not a slight, that’s not being nasty, that’s a fact.  

What I don’t get is how and why it was important to get this guy while we still had a guy like Luke Weaver waiting in the wings after he proved himself as the Yankees closer last season.  And so, with the news of Devin Williams moving out of the closer role, I was thrilled and also, by the way, it was the most obvious move to the casual observer. But sometimes the Yankees front office falls all over themselves to try and fit square pegs in round holes.  Whatever, the experiment with Williams didn’t work, clearly. 

Now we have the Yankees pitching coach Matt Blake doing that tired move that Boone does, defends his guys like he’s breaking up a fight on the kindergarten carpet during quiet time. What this guy forgets is we pay this guy’s salary. We pay all their salaries, and so pardon us for being hard on a professional baseball player, playing a kid’s game and not being very good at it. 

Fans get mad and fans should get mad. That’s what being a fan is. Oh, you don’t know what I’m talking about? Listen to this garbage, from the beginning…

Friday night the Bronx faithful did what we do best: voice our opinions. Loudly. Passionately. And yes, sometimes ruthlessly. Devin Williams took the mound and immediately gave off the vibe of a guy who’d rather be anywhere else—like, say, back in Milwaukee where high-pressure situations consist of choosing between cheese curds or bratwurst.

The crowd let him have it. Boos. Chants of “We want Weaver!” It was glorious. Cathartic. New York in its purest form. And then Matt Blake—Matt freakin’ Blake—decided to step in and scold us like a substitute teacher trying to tame a senior prank day. 

“It definitely doesn’t help,” he whined. “Negativity doesn’t make the situation better.” Relax Matt Blake, you never even played pro ball.

Excuse us, Coach Whisper. Since when did the pitching coach get promoted to the role of Public Morale Officer? Look, Matt, we didn’t sign up for your TED Talk on emotional resilience—we signed up to see games won. If a guy is blowing leads and melting down like a microwaved Mounds bar, yeah, he’s going to hear it. Welcome to the Bronx.

Blake went on to say, “The earlier we can nip that in the bud and stabilize things, the better.” No, no. The better thing would’ve been to realize Devin Williams isn’t cut out for the ninth inning in New York. That’s not bullying, that’s cold, hard baseball reality. This isn’t Milwaukee, Matt. You said it yourself: “There’s more noise, more pressure.” Exactly. And if your guy can’t handle the heat, we will remind him.

Let’s not forget Clay Holmes. I liked Clay. Though he got dogpiled on too much. Maybe it was his face—people just didn’t trust it. Still, when Holmes couldn’t get the job done, guess what happened? He got demoted. Because that’s how grown-up teams with championship aspirations operate. They adjust. They act. They don’t hold pity parades for closers getting rattled by boos. Blake’s ridiculous.

So, Devin Williams is out, and Luke Weaver is in. And you know what? It’s about time. Weaver has the guts, the grit, and the Bronx-approved demeanor to handle the closer role. That should’ve been obvious weeks ago. Instead, we had to watch Williams unravel while Matt Blake stood on the mound playing armchair psychologist.

And now, we Yankee fans are apparently the bad guys for booing? Please. We’re the ones paying to sit through bullpen implosions. We’re the ones emotionally investing night after night. We don’t “abuse” players—we react to performance. That’s the deal in New York. Don’t like it? Get on the first flight to Anywhere-Else-ville.

So, here’s a tip, Blake: Shut your pie hole and let fans be fans. We chirp. We groan. We boo and yes, sometimes we cheer. It’s part of the game, and if Williams can’t take it, then maybe this just isn’t the town for him.

We already knew Williams was soft. Now it looks like his pitching coach is too.