On Friday, Bernie Williams told reporters that he may not be ready to call it a game just yet.

My first reaction to this news is a pretty definitive, “Oy.”

As someone who loves Bernie, who cares about his well-being, it is important to me that he not play fast and loose with his dignity.  As it stands, Bernie will be remembered as a terrific ballplayer-the first to win a batting title, Gold Glove award, and a ring all in the same year.  (It was ’98, a magical year all around.)  I would hate to see him tarnish that legacy.

Bernie may have felt like he was in peak condition at the WBC, but he didn’t look it.  He was slower-things seemed more effortful.  Don’t get me wrong; he’s not what you would call a schlub.  But there is a world of difference between being a guy who’s in good shape for forty and being fit enough for major league play.

The best case scenario here is that the Yankees decide to bring him on for a tiny paycheck and in a limited capacity because they finally acknowledge that he’s someone we could really use in the clubhouse.  Hardly ideal, but the best case scenario nonetheless. And fairly implausible unless several people in the Yankees’ front office have personality transplants.

More likely, one of two definitively more embarrassing things will happen.

One, he gets signed to a measly deal for a team that isn’t the Yankees.  A catastrophe of unspeakable proportions.  I say this not just as a fanatical diehard Bombers fan who would be personally devastated to see Bernie suiting up to play in anything other than pinstripes. I also believe that, as Bernie gets older and looks back on his career, this is a move that he would sincerely regret.  There are some players who happen play to for a team and others who are its defining members.  Bernie is a Yankee.  In his soul, he is a Yankee. If he bows out once and for all, he’ll be remembered as a Yankee.  And only a Yankee.  Does he really want that addendum on the bottom of his Baseball Reference and Wikipedia pages about the one year he spent playing measly ball for the Reds?

Unfortunately, however, there is another still more embarrassing possibility-that nobody bites.  What could be a more tragic ending to a career such as Bernie’s as seeing him peddle himself on the open market without a bidder to be found?

When the Yanks released Bernie without ceremony or respect, I was the first to take umbrage.  When a crazy lady in a San Juan nightclub accused Bernie of attacking her, I leapt to his defense.  So, now, Bernie, I hope you know that it is only out of love and concern that I tell you that I think you’re riding a one-way train to total shame and humiliation.

I seriously advise you to reconsider and disembark.