Step up to the plate, Aaron Judge, the New York Yankees’ skyscraper of a slugger who’s got more hype than hardware. Hailing from Linden, California—a sleepy burg of 1,800 where the almonds outnumber the ambitions—this guy’s been the Bronx’s big hope since 2016. At 6’7” and 282 pounds, he’s less a baseball player and more a linebacker who wandered into a batting cage. Too bad all that size can’t buy a clutch gene.
The numbers are gaudy. A .289 career batting average, 317 home runs, 803 RBIs, and a .993 OPS through 2024. Nine seasons, five All-Star nods, an MVP in 2022 when he smashed an AL-record 62 dingers, and a Rookie of the Year in 2017 with 52 bombs. He’s a one-man wrecking crew—walks 100 times a year, crushes tape-measure shots (his longest: 496 feet in 2017), and fields right with a cannon arm. So why’s he the butt of this roast? Because for all the stats, Judge’s postseason resume is a graveyard of “what ifs.”
Nine playoff trips, one World Series appearance—last year, 2024, where the Yankees fell 4-1 to the Dodgers. Judge’s career October slash line? A measly .208/.320/.432, with 15 homers and 73 strikeouts in 60 games. In that ‘24 Series, he hit .184—7 strikeouts, one homer, and a dropped fly ball in Game 5 that handed LA momentum. Sure, he had a monster ALCS (.360, 3 HRs) to get there, but when the lights got brightest, he shrank faster than a cheap pinstripe suit. The Yanks haven’t won it all since 2009; Judge’s been around for half that drought, swinging for the fences while the trophy case gathers dust.
Injuries? Oh, he’s got those too. Missed 60 games in 2018 with a broken wrist, 45 in 2019 with an oblique strain, and 42 in 2023 after crashing into Dodger Stadium’s wall toe-first. At 32, he’s still elite—44 homers, 144 RBIs in 2024—but the mileage is showing. Those 200 strikeouts in 2017 aren’t cute anymore; he’s whiffed 1,234 times in his career, a reminder that even giants have holes.
Off the field, he’s a saint. Married Alli LaBrie in 2021—Hawaiian beach wedding, very classy. Adopted a dog, Gus, and loves his Fresno State roots. He’s polite, humble, a captain since 2023—the kind of guy you’d trust to babysit your kids. Too bad he can’t babysit a lead in October. Signed a 9-year, $360 million deal in 2022, he’s set for life—$40 million a year to be the face of a franchise that’s mastered regular-season flexing but postseason flopping.
Yankees fans adore him, and it’s not hard to see why. He’s a homegrown colossus, the heartbeat of a 27-time champ that’s forgotten how to finish. That 62-homer season? Historic. His 2024 encore—10.8 WAR, .322 average? Unreal. But one ring in nine tries isn’t “Bronx Bomber” material—it’s “Bronx Almost.” Juan Soto’s gone, Gerrit Cole’s aging, and Judge is left holding the bat, staring down another decade of “next year.”
Aaron Judge isn’t a bust—his stats scream Cooperstown. But he’s a tease: a Linden lumberjack with a swing that shakes stadiums, stuck in a pinstripe purgatory of near-misses. Enjoy the MVP plaques and the puppy cuddles, Aaron. In the Bronx, that’s as close to No. 28 as you’ve come.
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