Aaron Judge’s unnamed slump risks dragging Yankees down

In the strange, paranormal world known as hitting, in which lucky socks or a borrowed bat are believed to have superpowers, there is one unwanted five-letter interloper who might as well be called “He Who Shall Not Be Named.” The attackers don’t even like to use the word “recession,” much less admit that such an enemy exists, such are its negative forces.

“I don’t have a slump,” Chief Sensei Yogi Berra once said. “I just don’t hit.”

However, in the worst case scenario, the decline is obvious, even if it is inexpressible. For Aaron Judge of the New York Yankees, he has become as big as the man himself. This cannot be ignored.

One of the greatest sluggers of this generation can’t seem to get out of his way. He takes hits and hits balls. He’s late on his fastballs and early on his breaks. He hit 19 times in 11 games this postseason, batting .150.

Game 2 of the World Series on Saturday proved to be a new low. Judge struck out on pitches out of bounds three times for just the 16th time in his career. The Yankees were again unable to survive without the positive energy of their captain, losing to the Los Angeles Dodgers 4–2 and trailing the series two games to none.

The referee never said the word “slump” after the game as he parried various variations of the question: What the hell is wrong? He didn’t have to say that. As responsible as he was, Judge betrayed one of the root causes of his decline by the number of times he used the same two words with added emphasis:

“I definitely must step forward. I must do your job.”

“Especially with Gleyber (Torres) and what Juan (Soto) has done at the top of the lineup, I must support them.”

“They will continue to infiltrate the base. I have must corral them or transport them.”

“My boys will continue to give me rides, but I must Come and take them too.

“It’s simple and clear. I must start swinging when you hit.”

“Must”. This is an eloquent recognition of the attacker’s pressing. Judge knows how important he is to the Yankees. At 32, he knows he’s been waiting for his professional career to get the opportunity to play in the World Series. And to make matters worse, he knows the October slump lasts for years. He’s piecing together a legacy of empty postseason players that is becoming increasingly difficult to change.

In 55 postseason appearances, Judge is a .199 hitter who strikes out in 34% of his plate appearances, which is pretty much on par with Mike Zunino’s regular season career. Judge has struck out 85 times, 12 more than anyone else in postseason history, in 55 games (the next closest is Cody Bellinger, 73).

Someone wondered: Is there some factor that can be pointed to?

“We’re just expanding the area,” he said. “You know, that’s really what it comes down to. You need to get a field in the zone and drive across it. And if not, don’t try to do anything.”

This is the obvious place to start. Judge chased down passes at a career-low 18.7% during the regular season. In the postseason, that figure rose to 29.3%. He’s 0-for-10 in 34 drives.

But it’s more than that. It’s mechanical. Manager Aaron Boone talked about Judge not being able to get into load position in time to throw a good hit. Sometimes he kicked in a slightly open stance and sometimes in a neutral stance, which served him well in May as he emerged from a 35-game slump early in the season. His swing is more uphill. He falls over the plate when he misses a pitch, which is a sign of a balance problem. Teammate Anthony Rizzo suspects he has a timing problem.

“It’s one of those intervals,” as Rizzo said of He Who Shall Not Be Named. “You know, I think it just takes one feeling. If you’re asking (what’s wrong), the first thing you need is probably just time.”

But there is a mental component that begins to emerge: the inability to break away from the “A” shot when the moment is right. He often finds himself caught between his wavering decisions.

I was referring to a particular pitch from Game 2—a 2-0, 94-mph fastball from Dodgers starter Yoshi Yamamoto that froze him in the sixth inning—when I asked the umpire if he felt like he had there are pitches to hit.

“Yeah, 2-0 Yamamoto, I think this is my third fight,” Judge said. “He kind of pressed the heater on me. You know, when we’re good, we can shoot him. Then the next pitch is a curveball where we foul. I just need to handle these two a little better.”

The valley Judge now walks through is so deep that Boone searched the pop-ups for signs of life. Before the game, he said a popup against pitcher Blake Treinen in Game 1 was the key to the turnaround for Judge.

“He threw me a four-seam machine, kind of up and down, and I just missed,” Judge said. “I would have preferred to get the job done in that situation, but I felt better. But like I said, it all comes down to the fact that I have to do my job.

“We’re getting closer. … I couldn’t transfer that into this game. You know, like I said, it all comes down to you having to be disciplined in my strike zone. This is what allowed us to be in this position all year. So I just need to get back to it.”

Necessary. Credit must also be given to how well the Dodgers pitched Judge in the World Series. In the second game they threw 21 pitches to the umpire. Only twice did they double on the same pitch in the at-bat – and each time Judge was fooled and bowled out in the chase.

Here’s how Yamamoto described Judge in terms of speed changes from pitch to pitch:

First fight, starting at 96 mph: -16, +17, -10, -8, -7, -1.

Second bit, starting at 80 mph: -5, +21, -10, +9.

Third at bat starting at 95 mph: -6, +5, -18, +16.

It’s a refined, speed-changing performance.

Judge is a power hitter who is always one strike away. For example, he broke through his April slump by hitting a May 5 homer off Tarik Skubal in his first at-bat when Skubal straightened his legs.

“You need to make your plate that big,” teammate Giancarlo Stanton said, roughly forming his hands into a hamburger shape. “You feel like your plate is so big,” he spread his arms wide, “and you just have to squeeze it. No, it’s not mechanical. He will help us win games here.”

Time and opportunities begin to slip away. Judge has 55 games of postseason pressure on his shoulders. His team will play a must-win third game on Monday. He is truly one of the greatest hitters and the emotional core of this team. He has must do something, and quickly. And is this not how we find ourselves here, in the land of the unspeakable?