Max Fried: Ace, Artist, Assassin

Max Fried didn’t just stroll into the Bronx—he strutted in like he owned the place. And seven starts later, it’s clear: he just might. The left-hander has been nothing short of sensational for the Yankees, dominating the American League with the kind of calm, clinical precision that makes hitters question their career choices.

Forget splashy headlines and big-market pressure—Fried simply shows up and wins. The numbers? Absurd. A pristine 6-0 record and a jaw-dropping 1.01 ERA through May 3, both leading the AL. Oh, and the Yankees are undefeated when he pitches. Undefeated. That’s not a stat line, that’s a mic drop.

While other teams spent the offseason chasing shiny objects, the Yankees made a move that, in retrospect, looks like grand larceny: acquiring Max Fried. Paul Goldschmidt deserves his flowers too, but Fried has emerged as the move of the offseason in Yankeeland—an instant legend in pinstripes.

The man is a gamer in the purest sense. No theatrics. No fluff. Just pure dominance. He’s thrown an MLB-high 44.2 innings, giving a weary Yankees bullpen the kind of break usually reserved for All-Star weekend. He’s been the rotation’s rock, a workhorse with a whip-smart arsenal and the mentality of a closer trapped in a starter’s body.

Take his most recent masterpiece: seven innings of one-hit, shutout brilliance against the Tampa Bay Rays. Six strikeouts, two walks, zero runs, and 100% command. That gem capped a historic three-game stretch where Fried looked more like a cheat code than a pitcher. He’s only given up five earned runs all season. That’s not pitching—that’s alchemy.

Durability? Check. Track record? Strong. Fried’s career ERA sits at 3.07, but he’s trending toward demigod territory in 2025. He doesn’t need to rack up a dozen strikeouts to dominate—he’s elite at soft contact, ground balls, and avoiding barrels like they’re toxic waste.

And while pitching coach Matt Blake once suggested Fried had “room to evolve,” let’s be real: what we’re seeing now isn’t some Blake-engineered experiment. This is Fried’s show. He’s crafting his own masterpiece, pitch by pitch, inning by inning.

After blanking the Rays in his latest outing, Fried stood by his locker, trying to put into words what comes so effortlessly to him.

“Sometimes it’s conscious and sometimes it’s not,” he told SNY. “Sometimes you try to let it go and it’s one speed, and sometimes you time it up good.”

Translation? He’s out there playing jazz while everyone else is reading sheet music.

So, dare we say it? Fried is not just the best addition the Yankees made—he might already be better than Gerrit Cole. And considering what Cole means to this franchise, that’s saying something.

Max Fried, ladies and gentlemen. Ace. Artist. Assassin.