Oh, man, these last few days living the life of a bonafide Yankee fan have been some sort of trip! Jeesh, the amount of work that goes into it… it’s just… staggering.
But overall, the sense of entitlement, inflated ego and blabbering-slandering mouth I’ve picked up have helped me transition.
Just to prove my ability, if you haven’t noticed, the Yankees still have 27 trophies. Still have iconic pinstripes. Still tout the achievements of the Babe.
we won Game 1 of the ALCS. Ha! Jesus may be on Josh Hamilton’s side,
but underneath that purple robe and thistle crown, Jesus flashes
pinstripes. Believe that!
Of course, not everything about being a
Yankee fan is easy… which is why I want to share with you my biggest
test yet: enduring Suzyn Waldman.
Jeff as a Yankees Fan, DAY 5:
Yankee posse overloads me with a heavy ear workout, forcing me to
listen to the worst broadcasters ever known: Chip Caray, Hawk Harrelson,
Joe Buck. My coaches insist this is necessary. I have to build up my
tolerance. Because I won’t have the option of turning off the radio,
even though I will most certainly want to.
ears, sore as can be, can’t take another minute of awful announcing…
so I am forced to endure a thousand papercuts on each lobe instead.
lunch time. I’m starving. And instead of a good healthy meal full of
the necessary proteins and vitamins I will need before game time, I am
presented a platter of fatty, fried foods. “What’s this?” I ask.
“Standard pre-Yankee game meal, Jeff” says the chef. “We gotta get you
full of s*** so you fit in tonight.”
I take a nap. I have a dream. I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former Yankees and
the sons of former Red Sox will be able to sit down together at a
table of brotherhood and —– what the — damn, that was a stupid dream.
Game time. I f****** HATE the Rangers. Go Yankees!
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Suzyn Waldman’s voice… it’s… at
game time it’s even worse than… no… three more hours of… I gotta
listen to this crap for three more —
Are we winning? Are we losing? I can’t stop my ears from bleeding. Damn you, Suzyn Waldman. Damn you!!!
It’s all over now. It’s been over. We won. But wow… it was not
easy. I never thought I’d say this, because I find him to be a perfect
example of everything that’s wrong with modern day broadcasting, but
thank the baseball gods for John Sterling…
Now, does anyone know a good ears, nose and throat guy?
– – –
To be continued…
Yeah, I got a big mouth.
Sometimes it gets me in trouble. Sometimes it gets me… opportunity.
So that’s why when I told Confessions of a She-Fan author, Jane Heller, that I would throw all my postseason fandom towards the Evil Empire as long as she celebrated series clinchers with pics of she boozin’, I didn’t even think to… well, think. At least, not too much anyway.
But what’s done is done. And now I’m in. With the Reds eliminated, I don’t have anything to lose this postseason… so gimme an interlocking “NY” and watch me chamelonize into a slithering, spoiled, seedy Yankees fan…
Jeff as a Yankees Fan, DAY 1:
I put aside my normal breakfast of greek yogurt and blueberries for an authentic New York Jewish bagel. It’s so authentic, it insults me and tells me to go back to Hobboken.
I tune into Sportscenter and am pleasantly surprised to see my newfound team featured in every, single, friggin’ segment. Yeah, son! Yeah!
Riding the bus, I see some chumwad in a Red Sox cap. I am brought to my knees with an overwhelming sense of disgust, nausea and uncontained anger. I march right up to him and say, “Hey, buddy, how’s the number 27 sound to ya? Huh? Yeah! Eat it, son! Eat it!” Then the bus stops and I get off as fast as I can.
The office manager was able to send out five faxes, five emails and five phone calls to our customers — all within one work day! So I showed him I cared by giving him a shaving cream pie in the face.
I turn on Sportscenter and am pleasantly surprised to see my pinstripers featured in every, single, friggin’ segment!
Some jape wearin’ a Twins cap walks by my house so I yell out “Go Yankees!” and he flips me off so I moon him then he throws a rock at my window and then I shoot him. In the face.
Ohhhhhh what a day. This Bronx Bomber stuff is really taxing; but it is good to go to sleep knowing that I rest on top of the sports universe — that all professional sports franchises in all corners of the known galaxy must look up at me, in my great big pinstriped bed. Happy and relaxed, I flip on the t.v. and let Sportscenter and its endless Yankee-love-fest woo me to slumber.
– – –
To be continued…
No longer exclusively tethered to the stage, the screen or the page, there is no doubt that life is full of drama — the sort that you weren’t ready for, the kind you embrace, even the type that makes you ill.
Nonuniform in appearance and uninterested in who or what it affects, drama can be as simple as that anxious feeling you get right before a big presentation or as complex as the collective mood among you and your fellow drivers during your morning commute.
Drama is everywhere. It infects everything. We love it. We hate it. We need it.
Take a look for yourself…
Ines Sainz and Her… Assets
Were members of the New York Jets out of line in their cat-calling towards Mexican reporter, Ines Sainz? Was Ms. Sainz perhaps inappropriately dressed for an NFL locker room? Is there more to this story that none of us knows about? Yes, yes, and yes? Probably… right? I dunno. Who cares? What is important is that a) we now know who Ines Sainz is and that she’s more than available via Google image search b) Jets fans have more to talk about than just how fat Rex Ryan is and c) I have another reason to post a B-side pic of someone not named Erin Andrews. Thank you, drama!
The AL East: Yankees – Rays Showdown
If this most recent series is any indication of what sort of playoff bliss we may be in for, well, paint me blue and call me “cubbie” ‘cuz I’m all in. Heart attacks galore, dear readers! From Sabathia v. Price, to Brignac bombs to Grandy’s catch to Jeter’s thespian act, this has been the most impressive, most entertaining, most dramatic regular season series between any two teams all season long! And, as a fan, I could care less about either club! Now that’s what I call drama!
Teabagging with Christine O’Donnell
If Joe Biden were dead he’d be rolling over in his grave. Heck, lots of people wish Karl Rove was dead (he’s not) and he’s already rolling over in his… er… wait. What I mean is this: Republican/Tea Party senatorial candidate Christine O’Donnell from Delaware may seem like Sarah Palin 2.0, but that’s just because she’s good-looking, halfway likable and really dumb. Make no mistake: the Teabaggers are way more scary than their everyday conservative counterparts. Way more scary. For instance, O’Donnell once suggested to the MTV crowd that they refrain from masturbation. Uh… yeah. And judging from the fly hair and nails O’Donnell has in that circa 1996 video, I sure as hell hope she sees the irony in that. Anti-masturbation!?! Ha! Such a message EXPLODES with drama!!!
Hate me ‘cuz all the Teabaggers are doin’ it, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right!
It was nice to be the world’s unparalleled superpower following the fall of the Berlin Wall but it was also a little boring. A little rivalry goes a long way and without it, life just isn’t quite as spicy. Luckily we now have plenty of new enemies who are redefining the terms of the conflict and we can once again experience the existential angst our parents knew during the 60’s and 70’s.
At the same time, even within smaller rivalries you want to see a little spice. I’m sure Yankees fans love to see their Bronx Bombers beating up on this season’s hapless Red Sox. But does it feel quite as rewarding as beating them when Beckett was in top form? Sure, the Sox took one last night but that wasn’t exactly vintage Beckett.
Same goes for our current battles in the Islamic world. Many pundits have imagined Islamic society to be one monolithic bloc that seeks the destruction of the Great Satan but that’s a generalization that serves no real purpose. Cultural battles continue to roil majority Muslim states from Morocco all the way to Indonesia. Sometimes it’s deadly serious. Sometimes you can’t help but laugh and maybe even wish you had been there to see it.
Healthy rivalries keep the competitive juices flowing. There’s no way our space program would have reached the heights it attained without the constant pushing of the Soviets. Likewise, our current conflicts are forcing us to re-examine policies and their long-term effects on our safety and well being. And who knows, maybe if a couple more women beat up a couple more “religious” policemen, even the Saudis might grow up.
One of the most peculiar realms of science is understanding what exactly goes on inside of a black hole (and no, folks, we ain’t talkin’ about the vile emitting from Milton Bradley’s mouth). Widely understood as a “deformation of spacetime caused by a very compact mass” — an area from which nothing can escape the immense gravitational pull of its center — black holes are like the underground club scene of the cosmos: all kinds of weird s*** can happen… and does!
To me, the most interesting aspect of a black hole lies at its very center, past the event horizon, down the rabbit hole, settling on an infinitesimal point known as the singularity. If you were unfortunate enough to be sucked into a black hole and lucky enough to survive the trip down its core, by the time you reached the singularity you would surely be a shredded mess, the result of being filleted by the strongest forces theorized by the human mind.
But boy would it be an exciting death!
The oddest thing about the singularity is that once we start working in and around that point, we realize that the laws of physics become completely erroneous and unnecessary. That’s right, dear readers, when you get to the singularity, Einstein’s theory of general relativity makes no sense at all.
And while black holes and their singularities may be intangible to us from our terrestrial vantage point, if you look around you today you will see all sorts of things that could cause one to think we may be close to such a singularity — a place where what we see is so shocking, so odd, so perplexing that it just doesn’t make sense…
The Good Guys Win: Joe Mauer
Twins fans were so afraid they would lose their hometown hero to the evil chops of the Yankees and the Yankees 2.0 that doomsday scenarios and flat-out decrees of apostasy had already been accepted as fact. But in the end, the Twins had to sign Joe — for the sake of their new stadium and for the sake of their fans. And they did, for a very reasonable price. Oh, and by the way, the Twins are not a small-market team, so this situation is getting even more black-holish by the minute!
Liberal US Americans Actually Accomplish Something
After eight long years of maddening sound bytes, phantom wars against phantom enemies for phantom purposes and an all-out assault on reason, the liberal majority in the House got together and passed a health care bill that might actually work. Oh yeah, sure, not everyone is happy about it and the most concerning aspect is how we’re going to pay for it; but, in my opinion, the sheer fact that you won’t be financially punished for being sick anymore indicates a huge step forward. And besides, since when do US Americans care about national debt? Here, in the great state of Illinois, for as long as I can remember, the political machine has been borrowing money from the FUTURE to pay for current projects. I hear that Illinois is rich in the future, so I’m gonna see if I can get in on that too. I need a Lamborghini.
Exciting News Out of Cincinnati Reds Camp
You have to go back quite a few years to find anything worth anticipating from the Reds in March, but this year is different. Under the wise hand of former Cardinal front office legend Walt Jocketty, Cincinnati signed Cuban defector Aroldis Chapman during the offseason, hoping he would live up to his international hype. And boy does he! Thought by many to be an ace-caliber pitcher going into this season, Reds fans have a whole lot to be excited about for a change… of course, that is… until Dusty Baker blows out his arm and ruins his career.
Hate me ‘cuz I test the limits of physics, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
What do you get when you cross an evil, faceless corporation with the soulless smile of a clown?
It may be cute. It may be funny. But to paraphrase close personal friend of RSBS, Keyser Söze, “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he was a funny clown commercial.”
Sometimes, rightfully or wrongfully, things go to our heads. Now, we’ve had a great couple of years here at RSBS, even if the results of this past year weren’t quite what we’re accustomed to. It appears, though, that half of the RSBS team, the half that doesn’t look like Joe Maddon, has taken this as a mandate to run rough-shod over all that we hold dear.
Great thinkers have always had their weaknesses which sometimes led to misguided attempts at misguided pursuits. And my dear friend, Mr. Lung, is no exception. It has been awhile since he has known the pleasure of a woman’s company and I can’t say that I fault him for this current acting out. It’s normal and at RSBS we don’t judge.
However, we must have our standards. Dating someone who is not a baseball fan is one thing. They can be taught. But becoming enraptured by a girl who openly supports the team you claim to detest? Have you no shame, sir?
Yes, I have dated Yankees fans before and I am not proud of that. But I have resolved never to do it again. Better a life of celibacy than the self-loathing that goes with dating the evil empire.
But I think Jeff will need a little more help. This has gone beyond the point where mere shame will keep him from slipping down that long, dark, Cubbie-blue tunnel from which I fear he will never escape.
No, desperate times call for desperate measures and that’s why I am putting out the call now for all of our readers to help out. Help us find the girl who can save Jeff from himself and this gradual descent into purgatory. It would be nice if she lived in the Chicago area and she doesn’t have to be a Cardinals fan. I think we’d be all right just as long as she doesn’t support the Cubs. Although you could get a few extra points from me if she was a Tigers fan. You know, for the irony.
You have your mission. Now let’s get out there and find this woman! She must exist somewhere.
-Photo via Skull Swap