Tag Archives: yankees

Jokes Not to Make With Co-Workers

Tuesday, 1 PM: I’m getting water from the kitchen when I run into a co-worker gazing out the window.  There’s a beautiful rooftop garden on one of the buildings nearby.  “I never see anyone up there though,” I say.

rockefeller_center1My co-worker shrugs. “Maybe they won’t let people outside because they’re afraid they’ll jump.”  The building is owned by a financial company, of course.

I point at the window that we’re looking out of.  “Well, we could jump out here, too,” I say, jokingly.

I receive a blank stare from my co-worker, followed by a nervous laugh and a worried-for-you expression… Hmm, maybe this wasn’t a joke-able topic.  I try to salvage my non-suicidal reputation by saying, “Not like we would… merely an observation…”  This only leads to another concerned look, so I finally just blurt out: “How ’bout them Yankees?”

… But come on–like I’d really jump out a window to my death?  If I actually wanted to, I’d do it from a rooftop garden.  I gotta have a classy exit.  I’m in finance after all.

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Channeling Jay Leno…

On Friday, Derek Jeter passed Lou Gehrig as the Yankees’ all-time hits leader.  However, Jeter is still chasing the record for most hits in one night, held by Chris Brown.

Thousands gathered in DC on Saturday to protest what they consider out-of-control government spending.  Because after eight years of rising budget deficits, now is the time to rise up!…  Many in the crowd prepared for the chance of rain by covering themselves with white sheets and pointy hats.

The USDA has been urging media outlets to stop calling the H1N1 virus “swine flu,” claiming that it is hurting pork farmers.  Pork farmers declined to comment, as they have all been bed-ridden with the flu.

Several college campuses are already reporting swine flu outbreaks, especially amongst those rushing fraternities and sororities.  However, students don’t seem to be deterred from rush, since catching swine flu at a frat party is still not as likely as catching herpes.

At the US Open, Serena Williams lost her semifinal match on a code violation after she profanely berated a linesman.  Serena was heard shouting, “You lie!”…  Serena allegedly told the linesman that she would “shove a bleeping tennis ball down her bleeping throat.”  Serena was hoping that she would finally get women’s tennis onto SportsCenter’s Top 10 Plays.

Joe Wilson has raised more than $1 million since his now-famous outburst during Obama’s healthcare speech.  That’s $500K per syllable.  During Obama’s next healthcare address, Wilson is expected to yell out, “You supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!”

Wilson said that he would not apologize twice for heckling the President.  Instead, he will ask Governor Mark Sanford to write a series of remorseful love letters to the President on his behalf.

On Friday, Michael Jordan was inducted into the NBA Hall of Fame.  Several members of Jordan’s supporting cast were in attendance, including Scottie Pippen, Dennis Rodman, and Bugs Bunny.

Accusations of assault against Chargers linebacker Shawn Merriman have been dismissed by the district attorney’s office.  As reason for dropping charges, the San Diego DA cited “insufficient evidence and Merriman’s superb third down defense.”

On Saturday, Tina Fey won an Emmy for her impersonation of Sarah Palin on SNL.  Ironically Sarah Palin also won an Emmy, for her impersonation of Tina Fey without a soul.

This weekend, Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez revealed that he purchased rockets from Russia during a nine-country tour.  Chavez claimed the missiles were “defense instruments”, only to be used if he felt threatened.  Then he aimed a rocket at the Venezuelan media, and blew them up.

Brett Favre made his Minnesota Vikings debut with a win on Sunday against the Browns.  Still, it wasn’t a “classic” Brett Favre performance, since he didn’t throw an interception.

Philadelphia Eagles QB Donovan McNabb cracked a rib in Sunday’s win against the Carolina Panthers.  After the injury, team trainers consulted with Michael Vick, and decided to put McNabb down.

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Reprising their Role in Baseball’s Greek Tragedy

This season, I haven’t followed the Red Sox as ardently as I have in the past.  But given that they were in town, and playing the Yankees this weekend, I decided I would watch all four games.  So I watched.  I cringed.  And I, along with the Red Sox, suffered.

Prior to 2004, the story of the Red Sox had always been that of a Greek tragedy.  The villains were Buckner and Boone and the curse of the Bambino.  You knew it was going to end badly.  You knew that the Sox would get your hopes up, only to be crushed in the end.  Season after season, it was a hopeless cause–like world peace.  You wanted it to happen, but you knew that in the end, darker forces (the Yankees, the Taliban) would always be in the way. 

But then, 2004 happened.  We won the world championship, beat the Yankees, and eradicated the dreaded “Curse”.  Then, in 2007, we did it again.  Suddenly, the Red Sox franchise was associated with winning.  It was a strange feeling.

losersThus, I watched the Sox play this weekend, fully expecting that we would win (at least one)…  But we lost the first three games.  And around 11:15ish tonight, the Yankees blew away our 2-1 lead and scored four runs in the bottom of the 8th.  5-2, Yankees, and we were down to our last inning.  (The collective “we” is what makes it all the more heartbreaking, especially since I feel the pain even though I have no control over the outcome of the game, no matter how much I yell at the players through the TV.)  Yet, while I instinctively knew that I should skip the inevitable conclusion of the 9th inning, that tiny glimmer of ’04/’07 hope kept me watching.  Damn, Red Sox.  I’d have an easier time turning away from a train wreck.

Of course, we got the tying run to the plate against Mariano Rivera, and then lost.  Losers once again.

So, in my postgame huff, I started to write about how much I hated the Yankees.  My first line was: “Rooting for the Yankees is like encouraging the rich kids to steal food from the homeless.”  But I figured that a rant about the haves vs. the have-nots would be somewhat unfair, given the Red Sox’s payroll. (Although it is $80 million less than that of the Yankees, or should I say, Bankees. Ha, ha.  Thanks, TARP backlash.)

Instead, I’ve realized that as much as I do, legitimately, hate the Yankees (after all, they steal from the homeless), I’m starting to hate on the Red Sox too.  I hate J.D. Drew and the $14 million we pay him to hit singles.  I hate how Big Papi’s (potential) PED use has cast doubt over the legitimacy of those world championships.  I hate that I believe the Sox can win all the time — it was so much easier when I’d already prepared myself for failure.  And I hate Tek’s balky knees, Beckett’s facial hair, all Red Sox shortstops, and how sweaty Youk gets during the games.  I appreciate the effort, but it’s nasty.

Lastly, I hate myself a little bit too — I hate how I’ve wasted so much time caring.  This time could have been spent on world peace. 

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Why Red Sox Nation Loves A-Rod

They say that when you grow up in Boston, it’s in your blood. It seeps into your mind, your heart, and your soul. There is no denying it, and there is no cure. In life, you may change jobs, political affiliations, or even genders, but you will always, always be a Boston Red Sox fan.

The Red Sox are an institution in Boston. This is a city that bleeds red in October. It is a city that jams thirty-thousand-plus people into a green concrete box on game days. It is a city that goes crazy when the Sox win, and self-immolates when the Sox lose. If you were walking the streets of Boston today, and asked a stranger about the three happiest moments of his life, the first two would be some variation of the typical answer: when my children were born, owning my first home, the day of my wedding, the day of my divorce, etc. However, the third happiest moment would likely be repeated by most everyone you meet: the “Sawx” winning the 2004 World Series. Seriously: everyone. Or at least 90%.

But even though us Boston fans are undoubtedly consumed by our sports teams, this fanaticism isn’t limited to Massholes. In fact, there are some places that may even be worse. After all, grown men wear dresses and pig snouts to support the Redskins in Washington. Detroit fans help out their basketball team by sucker punching opposing players. And infamous Cubs fan Steve Bartman received death threats before he was forced into hiding… all because he interfered with a foul ball.

Some might think that our country’s infatuation with sports is strange: you have millions of people on the edge of their seats, fixating over an event they can’t control, with participants they don’t really know, in a game they’ve probably never played. Even though we may give ourselves credit for our team’s victory (“during the whole game, I didn’t move my right arm, because the last time I did, Favre threw an interception”)… really, telekinesis has yet to hit NFL playbooks.

So why are we so obsessed? Why do we set aside our Sundays, neglect our work, and force our arms to go numb? Why do we let two-point conversions and last-second threes and outcomes (over which we have no control) impact our mood?

Why do we allow the fate of a foul ball decide how homicidal we want to be today?

Well, what else is there to do? I’d rather watch a baseball game than turn on the news to another bank bailout. I’d prefer to fill out my brackets than pore over my shrinking 401(k). The country needs a diversion right about now, however minor or fleeting it may be. We need sports now more than ever before.

a-rodFortunately, there are some among us who recognize this, and have stepped up to go above and beyond their vocation. To Alex Rodriguez: your recent revelations (of steroid use, of infidelity, of loving yourself a little too much) have not only distracted us from the dire financial crisis, but they have also reinforced all of New England’s fervor for baseball. For as it is with the symbiotic nature of sports, loving the Sox is also about inherently hating the Yankees. And it’s pretty easy to hate on the Yanks these days… I mean, come on: just look in the mirror.

Part of this post was excerpted from a previous post by the same author, from September 17, 2008: “I’m Voting for the Candidate Who Agrees That the Yankees Suck”

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I’m Voting for the Candidate Who Agrees that the Yankees Suck

They say that when you grow up in Boston, it’s in your blood. It seeps into your mind, your heart, and your soul. There is no denying it, and there is no cure. In life, you may change jobs, political affiliations, or even genders, but you will always, always be a Boston Red Sox fan.

The Red Sox are an institution in Boston. This is a city that bleeds red in October. It is a city that jams thirty-thousand-plus people into a green concrete box on game days. It is a city that goes crazy when the Red Sox win, and self-immolates when the Red Sox lose. If you were walking the streets of Boston today, and asked a stranger about the three happiest moments of his life, the first two would be some variation of the typical answer: when my children were born, owning my first home, the day of my wedding, the day of my divorce, etc. However, the third happiest moment would likely be repeated by most everyone you meet: the Red Sox winning the 2004 World Series. Seriously: everyone. Or at least 90%.

But even though us Boston fans are undoubtedly consumed by our sports teams, this fanaticism isn’t limited to Massholes. In fact, there are some places that may even be worse. After all, grown men wear dresses and pig snouts to support the Redskins in Washington. Detroit fans help out their basketball team by sucker punching opposing players. And infamous Cubs fan Steve Bartman received death threats before he was forced into hiding… all because he interfered with a foul ball.

Some might think that our country’s infatuation with sports is strange: you have millions of people on the edge of their seats, fixating over an event they can’t control, with participants they don’t really know, in a game they’ve probably never played. Even though we may give ourselves credit for our team’s victory (“during the whole game, I didn’t move my right arm, because the last time I did, Favre threw an interception”)… really, telekinesis has yet to hit NFL playbooks.

So why are we so obsessed? Why do we set aside our Sundays, neglect our work, and force our arms to go numb? Why do we let two-point conversions and last-second threes and outcomes (over which we have no control) impact our mood? Why do we allow the fate of a foul ball decide how homicidal we want to be today?

Much of it has to do with the sense of community that comes with being a sports fan. Our teams serve as a common thread between fans, an easy conversation starter, and a way for us to showcase our townie pride and bash on our rivals. Our allegiances also grow stronger if there is a common enemy: for Bostonians, we collectively cringe when Peyton Manning’s 17th commercial comes on, and we all agree that the Yankees do indeed, suck. The rivalry is what makes is interesting, and it’s what draws us to our teams even more.

Finally, I’d like to go off on a somewhat-related tangent: As November nears, all of us will be forced to choose allegiances in another competition between opposing rivals. In this contest, however, the implications are far worse than a weekly depression because the Dolphins lost again. Instead, we have to wait four years to turn this one around. And while we eagerly anticipate the next Sox game at Fenway, our engagement with the upcoming election is minimal, at best. Not too many people plan on packing the bars to watch the debates. Not too many anticipate dressing up as a gun-toting book Nazi to support their favorite Russia expert. Very few people are on the edge of their seats.

So, a suggestion: As sports are so popular, let’s try it with politics. For this election, let’s get some form-fitting red and blue jerseys, and see how well our candidates do under pressure. How are Obama’s skills on the basketball court? Can Palin can shoot a moose with a bow and arrow? The ultimate decider could be an American Gladiators course, the true test of patriotism and strength. I want to see Biden battling it out with Siren. I want to see Palin jousting with Mayhem. I want to see McCain get lit up by Justice. If this doesn’t get people interested in the election… well, at least they’ll have football on Sundays to get them through the next four years.

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