The Airbender's Lost Grip: Can Devin Williams and the Yankees Bullpen Regain Their Swagger Before October?
Published on: August 12, 2025
The Bronx Bombers are teetering. Not quite on the brink, not yet spiraling into the abyss, but definitely perched precariously on the edge of the Wild Card cliff, their knuckles white from gripping on for dear life. And while the Yankees’ lineup still boasts enough firepower to launch a small moon into orbit, a gnawing unease pervades the Stadium faithful. It’s a familiar anxiety, one that whispers of late-inning collapses and blown saves – the dreaded bullpen blues. At the heart of this unease lies Devin Williams, the enigmatic closer whose airbending changeup once left hitters flailing like inflatable tube men in a hurricane. Now, his pitches hang like lazy curveballs in a slow-pitch softball game, and the whispers are turning into roars.
The decline has been both swift and brutal. Just a few months ago, Williams was the lockdown artist, the final boss in the Yankees’ late-inning arsenal. He’d stride to the mound with the swagger of a gunslinger, his changeup a mystical weapon that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Now, the swagger is gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and a palpable sense of frustration. The changeup, once a thing of beauty, has become predictable, hittable, and frankly, embarrassing for a pitcher of his caliber.
His ERA since July has ballooned like a yeast infection in a bakery, hovering north of seven, a number more suited to a batting average than an earned run average for a closer. Three losses in the past five weeks have further darkened the picture, painting a portrait of a pitcher in freefall. Even the advanced metrics paint a grim picture, his WAR dipping into negative territory, a statistic that suggests he's actively hurting the team.
The trade deadline acquisitions of David Bednar and Camilo Doval were meant to bolster the bullpen, to provide insurance and options. They were meant to be supporting actors, not leading men. The Yankees’ blueprint for October hinges on a dominant Williams, on his ability to slam the door shut in the ninth inning. But right now, the door is hanging off its hinges, threatening to crash down and take the Yankees' playoff hopes with it.
The question echoing through the Bronx, from the bleachers to the owner's box, is a simple one: how long can the Yankees afford to wait? How long can they stick with their struggling closer, hoping for a miraculous resurgence while the season slips through their fingers like grains of sand?
Hall of Fame manager Joe Maddon, now dispensing wisdom from the comfy confines of the MLB Network studio, offered his perspective on the Williams conundrum. Maddon, a man who’s seen more baseball than a stadium full of peanut vendors, didn’t mince words. He suggested a temporary demotion, a strategic retreat to the lower-leverage landscapes of the sixth or seventh inning.
“Something’s off,” Maddon observed with the practiced eye of a seasoned skipper. “The arm slot, the changeup… it’s all flat. He’s tipping his pitches, or his mechanics are out of whack, or maybe it's something mental. Whatever it is, he needs to figure it out, and he can’t do it pitching in high-stakes situations.”
Maddon's prescription is a bitter pill for both Williams and the Yankees. It’s an admission of failure, a tacit acknowledgement that their closer, the man they entrusted with the game’s most crucial moments, is no longer up to the task. But it’s also a pragmatic approach, a recognition that sometimes the best way forward is to take a step back. “Use him in games that are already decided,” Maddon advised. “Let him work through his issues without the pressure of a one-run lead in the ninth. Don’t put him back in a high-leverage role until September unless he shows significant improvement.”
The Yankees have the depth to weather this storm, at least in the short term. Bednar and Doval are capable arms, more than capable of handling the ninth-inning duties while Williams finds his footing. Clay Holmes, Wandy Peralta, and Albert Abreu offer further options, a patchwork quilt of relievers who can, in theory, hold the fort until the cavalry arrives. But the cavalry, in this case, is Devin Williams himself. He’s the missing piece, the X-factor that can transform a good bullpen into a great one.
The Yankees are in a delicate dance. They need to win now, to secure their spot in the postseason. But they also need to fix Williams, to unlock the potential that made him one of the most feared closers in the game. It’s a balancing act, a tightrope walk between short-term needs and long-term goals.
The pressure is on, and the clock is ticking. Every game, every inning, every pitch carries the weight of a season’s aspirations. The Bronx faithful are watching, waiting, hoping for the Airbender to rediscover his magic. Can Williams regain his form and lead the Yankees back to October glory? Or will his struggles continue to haunt the Bronx, a chilling reminder of what could have been? The answer, as always, lies on the diamond. The stage is set, the spotlight is on, and the drama is unfolding one pitch at a time.
The decline has been both swift and brutal. Just a few months ago, Williams was the lockdown artist, the final boss in the Yankees’ late-inning arsenal. He’d stride to the mound with the swagger of a gunslinger, his changeup a mystical weapon that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Now, the swagger is gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and a palpable sense of frustration. The changeup, once a thing of beauty, has become predictable, hittable, and frankly, embarrassing for a pitcher of his caliber.
His ERA since July has ballooned like a yeast infection in a bakery, hovering north of seven, a number more suited to a batting average than an earned run average for a closer. Three losses in the past five weeks have further darkened the picture, painting a portrait of a pitcher in freefall. Even the advanced metrics paint a grim picture, his WAR dipping into negative territory, a statistic that suggests he's actively hurting the team.
The trade deadline acquisitions of David Bednar and Camilo Doval were meant to bolster the bullpen, to provide insurance and options. They were meant to be supporting actors, not leading men. The Yankees’ blueprint for October hinges on a dominant Williams, on his ability to slam the door shut in the ninth inning. But right now, the door is hanging off its hinges, threatening to crash down and take the Yankees' playoff hopes with it.
The question echoing through the Bronx, from the bleachers to the owner's box, is a simple one: how long can the Yankees afford to wait? How long can they stick with their struggling closer, hoping for a miraculous resurgence while the season slips through their fingers like grains of sand?
Hall of Fame manager Joe Maddon, now dispensing wisdom from the comfy confines of the MLB Network studio, offered his perspective on the Williams conundrum. Maddon, a man who’s seen more baseball than a stadium full of peanut vendors, didn’t mince words. He suggested a temporary demotion, a strategic retreat to the lower-leverage landscapes of the sixth or seventh inning.
“Something’s off,” Maddon observed with the practiced eye of a seasoned skipper. “The arm slot, the changeup… it’s all flat. He’s tipping his pitches, or his mechanics are out of whack, or maybe it's something mental. Whatever it is, he needs to figure it out, and he can’t do it pitching in high-stakes situations.”
Maddon's prescription is a bitter pill for both Williams and the Yankees. It’s an admission of failure, a tacit acknowledgement that their closer, the man they entrusted with the game’s most crucial moments, is no longer up to the task. But it’s also a pragmatic approach, a recognition that sometimes the best way forward is to take a step back. “Use him in games that are already decided,” Maddon advised. “Let him work through his issues without the pressure of a one-run lead in the ninth. Don’t put him back in a high-leverage role until September unless he shows significant improvement.”
The Yankees have the depth to weather this storm, at least in the short term. Bednar and Doval are capable arms, more than capable of handling the ninth-inning duties while Williams finds his footing. Clay Holmes, Wandy Peralta, and Albert Abreu offer further options, a patchwork quilt of relievers who can, in theory, hold the fort until the cavalry arrives. But the cavalry, in this case, is Devin Williams himself. He’s the missing piece, the X-factor that can transform a good bullpen into a great one.
The Yankees are in a delicate dance. They need to win now, to secure their spot in the postseason. But they also need to fix Williams, to unlock the potential that made him one of the most feared closers in the game. It’s a balancing act, a tightrope walk between short-term needs and long-term goals.
The pressure is on, and the clock is ticking. Every game, every inning, every pitch carries the weight of a season’s aspirations. The Bronx faithful are watching, waiting, hoping for the Airbender to rediscover his magic. Can Williams regain his form and lead the Yankees back to October glory? Or will his struggles continue to haunt the Bronx, a chilling reminder of what could have been? The answer, as always, lies on the diamond. The stage is set, the spotlight is on, and the drama is unfolding one pitch at a time.
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