If you put together all the players that the Yankees have on the Disabled List with all the athletically challenged ones they have on their roster, they could field their own Special Olympics. The list of losers is just endless, starting with A-Rod. He had a fine year last year, just in time for his contract renewal. Then, after he got his big deal, he decided to retire. The only problem is, he's taking his retirement at third base.
The worst thing about baseball is that you waste the most beautiful months of the year worrying about October. Apparently, Jason Giambi's lucky gold panties (we don't hear much about that since the Steinbrenner brothers threatened the sports reporters that they would have to buy their own beer if they wrote about it anymore) got snagged on a hook or something, because if it wasn't for the Mets, New York wouldn't have any game at all.
The only happy guy in this mess is Melky Cabrera. The Yanks threw him off the sinking ship before it sank. He's happy he got out before the rot set in. (ok, he was part of the rot) Speaking of rot, let's not forget the fat, roly-poly Steinbrenner brothers, who have between them attended a total of three games this year. Maybe they're too fat to squeeze through the turnstile. But that hasn't stopped them from shooting off their fat mouths. Hank was there last night because his limo (that's short for limburger) happened to be passing by on the Cross-Bronx Expressway and he turned in to find out if the stench of rotten fish heads was coming from the bullpen or the batting cage. Not that he would know the freakin difference. As Jonathan Papelbon so kindly pointed out, the Steinbrenner brothers are genetically too fat to b€*d ov€r to field any grounders. But with the big mouths they got, they probably could stop a few line drives.
Now that the Yanks have dropped the first two games of a three game series against a dramatically diminished Boston, they are getting prepared to get chopped up for fish bait by Blue Jays' Roy Halladay and AJ Burnett before getting fed to the Angels, and then back to Boston again.
(Does this mean I can't get a chance to buy a $10,000 box seat ticket at the new Yankees Stadium next year? Just my luck! I'll have to be happy watching the Brooklyn Cyclones over at Keyspan Stadium, where they got a third baseman named Jose Jimenez, who stands around like he's waiting for a bus before striking out and committing a whole bunch of errors. It's worth the price of admission just for the laughs, and beer is only $5. With the racket and the lights from the Coney Island amusement park next door , the Battle of the Bands going on downstairs at Peggy O'Neil's Bar and the roar of the Harleys dragging up and down Neptune Avenue, it puts your soul at peace and reminds you that, within this context, it's just a game going on)
Nothing is helping the Yanks. They even brought in the Pope at second base, but it's going to take more than a few sprinkles of holy water and a puff of smoke to shake these jokers out of their lethargy. After every game, their chorus is "We stunk." Maybe they should do the world a favor, and when they tear down the old stadium, leave the Yanks inside.
Meanwhile, across town at Shea, everything's happening. Earlier this year I wrote in this space that I was going over from the Yanks to the Mets. It was Giambi's gold panties that gave me the final push, but the Yanks were stale anyway. Baseball is a masculine sport, and at least the Mets wear men's drawers. They're yellow and brown, but they used to be white. Anyway, aside from the sartorial splendor of the situation, the Mets got hitting, they got fielding, they got a great outfield, sometimes they got pitching, they run and steal bases. It's not like watching the three-legged race at the old folks' home, which is what the Yanks got.
And now, since Jerry Manuel took over, the Mets have got a team consciousness, not just a bunch of rich prima donnas who can't stand being together (Manuel, who used to manage Chicago, had to threaten Jose Reyes with a knife to achieve this). Last night they made the Phillies eat the cheese steak again, which is a big change over last season.
The Mets are zooming into outer space like a rocket. Maybe after Obama gets through with his Greek tragedy podium at Mile High Stadium they should move it over to Shea so that Jerry Manuel can lie on a couch and eat peeled grapes in a toga while watching the Mets conquer the world.
THE FINAL ARMAGEDDON BETWEEN GOOD AND EVIL FOUGHT AT FLUSHING MEADOWS! WHO WILL PREVAIL, THE YANKS OR THE METS? READ "THE YANKEES ARMY"
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