Cabrera Is Done, But His Words To Judge Shows Yankee Pride!

Let’s just get this out of the way: Oswaldo Cabrera is now my guy. The slide was routine, but in a freak accident, the man appeared to be shot down at home plate like a hero in a war film—face in the dirt, heart in his chest, and pain written all over his twisted left ankle. It was dramatic and expected for a freak slide like that. I feel terrible for him.

For any of you that didn’t see it, Cabrera was trying to score, giving it every ounce of hustle he had, tagging up on a fly ball from Aaron Judge with the bases loaded and one out. The moment he pivoted awkwardly to dodge Mariners catcher Cal Raleigh’s tag, his ankle said “no thanks,” and down he went.

And we all felt it. The air went out of all of us. This wasn’t one of those “he’ll walk it off” moments. He pounded the dirt three times with his fist—once for the pain, once for the frustration, and once because sometimes baseball just isn’t fair. He didn’t just need help standing—he needed the full cart treatment, the kind you never want to see unless it’s delivering bubble gum and sunflower seeds.

Yankees head trainer Tim Lentych was right there, comforting him as Cabrera covered his eyes. Probably trying to block out the pain, maybe the crowd, maybe the thought that the rest of his season just disappeared in a cloud of bad luck.

Meanwhile, over at MSG, Jayson Tatum of the Celtics managed to hurt himself without even being touched. Tripped on a ghost. Slipped on a vibe. Whatever it was, it left him crumpled on the hardwood with less than three minutes to go. Celtics center Al Horford said he was “concerned about Jayson,” and sure, that’s valid. But let’s be real—Tatum’s going to get a wheelchair fit for royalty and a recovery timeline sponsored by three orthopedic surgeons and a Netflix docuseries. It was a weird night for ankles.

Back to Cabrera: he doesn’t get the red carpet. He gets grit. He’s always gotten grit.

And that’s what makes this such a gut punch. Cabrera isn’t just some warm body off the bench. He’s the Swiss Army knife of the Yankees roster—the guy who will play anywhere, do anything, and smile while doing it. He was never supposed to be the star, but tell that to Yankee fans who’ve watched him turn bloopers into doubles, bad hops into outs, and quiet at-bats into clutch RBIs.

Every team dreams of having a guy like Oswaldo Cabrera. The Yankees had him—and now, thanks to a bad twist at home plate, they might not for a long time. He’s almost certainly done for the season. And no, these kinds of injuries aren’t easy to bounce back from. You don’t just ice it, slap some pine tar on it, and jog back out to third base.

And the saddest irony of all? While I’m praying daily for Oswald Peraza to finally get playing time, nobody wanted it to come like this. Not even close. Cabrera didn’t deserve this—he deserved more chances, more at-bats, more appreciation.

Because if you ask anyone in that clubhouse who bleeds pinstripes, Cabrera’s name is at the top of the list. He loves being a Yankee. And if you needed any proof of that, here’s a quote that deserves to be carved in Monument Park:

According to the G.O.A.T. Pete Caldera of The Bergen Record, when Aaron Judge knelt beside Cabrera as he lay in pain, Cabrera didn’t ask for help. He didn’t complain. What did he say?

“Judgie, did I score?”

Wrap that quote in pinstripes and hang it in the dugout. That’s who Oswaldo Cabrera is—a competitor, through and through. He wasn’t worried about his ankle, his season, or his MRI. He wanted to know if he got the run in.

Judge said it best: “Kind of shows you what type of guy he is. He loves being a Yankee, he wears his jersey with pride.”

So yeah, the Yankees won the game. And yeah, the Knicks now lead the Celtics 3–1. But nothing feels like a win when your heart-and-hustle guy gets carted off the field.

Here’s to Oswaldo Cabrera—Yankee glue guy, hustle king, and the kind of player every fan should root for. Heal up fast, Cabby. Bronx baseball isn’t the same without you.