Friday, December 26, 2008

And the winner is... The 2008 IT IS HIGH "Human of the Year"

Mr. Speaker, Mr. Chairman, President Levine, Governor Paterson, Pope Ratzinger, Coach Berra, Archduke Ferdinand, esteemed Gammonites and charter members of the Yankiverse...

At long last, Hell Year has ended. (Applause)
The last 366 days -- yes, the year didn't just seem long -- shall be remembered as a constant pain in the testicles of our collective soul. And it shall traced to the dismal play of those error-prone beings of humanity known as the 2008 Yankees. (Booing)

Today, though, we honor the person who brought joy unto Yankimanity.

First, let's note some great achievers.

Mike Mussina won 20 games for a team that didn't deserve a 20-game winner. He did it through heart. For years, we joked that he was "Mr. Almost:" Almost won 20, almost won Cy Young, almost threw a no-hitter, and we're almost glad we signed him. Let the record show: Thank God we signed him. We hate to see him go, though he retires with grace. (Hello, Bernie? Hello, Favre?) He leaves as a great Yankee. Nothing "almost" about it.

All year, Johnny Damon comforted wounded veterans and wounded teammates. If 10 measily pop-us fell for hits, he'd own the 2008 batting crown. He fought for us. He earned the Yankee fan respect that is reluctantly bestowed upon former Redsocks. We hope he retires a Yankee and wears our cap into Cooperstown.

Hank Steinbrenner sprang from his father's loins as a fully grown punchline, the underachieving buffoon-clone of another generation's Boss Hogg. Redsock fans said he'd bungle us back into the Omar Moreno 1980s. That won't happen. Brother Hal will run the team, and Hank is apparently comfortable with that. Surely, he had a say in spitting $400 million at Sabathia, Burnett and Teixiera. (He could pocket that money and buy more cigarettes.) The guy wants to win. We will make fun of him, because punch lines -- no matter how lame -- are hard to find. (See SNL David Paterson sketch.) But let the record show: We'll always prefer Hank to that oily, golf-cart driving, ginned-up, Stepford-husband, "look-I've-got-the-body-of-a-12-year-old-girl!" conniving moneytwat, John Henry.

Jason Giambi spent last year lost, in the field and at bat. Still, you loved him. He talked publicly about that golden thong, seducing the tabloids on a subject line that would bury most players. Then he grew the 'stache. He ate a lot of back page bullshit, and make no mistake: In NYC, that's a great addition to a club. Unfortunately, we were a team of DHs, and he cannot field. He's gone. Let's remember those two HRs off Pedro in our last great victory - blasts just as critical as Aaron Boone's. Let's cheer when he comes back and homers against us. Bring your thongs.

But in 2008, a truly wretched, hideous year... one human being gave us 12 weeks of pure, unadulterated joy.
Ladies and gentlemen, the IT IS HIGH Human of the Year.

Thank God we're not signing him. (We're NOT signing him, right? Please tell me we're not signing him.) No Yank tickled us as Manny did. Watching the Redsock fans foaming, blushing, accusing him of crimes, screaming until their fratboy voices changed... that memory must warm our hearts until pitchers and catchers report in February.

Congratulations, Manny!

Oh, one other thing: Ask Scott Boras if he'd like to represent blogs.

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