The Yankee Misteak House: Burn it down

A small, suitcase thermonuclear device would work perfectly.

Three days in, and the putrid reality is this:

THE FUCKING PLACE IS A BLOW-DRYER SHITHOUSE, A HOMERAMA BANDBOX, A PINBALL MACHINE. IF IT HAD ARTIFICIAL TURF, TEAMS COULD RACK UP NBA SCORES.

BLOW IT UP. BURN IT DOWN. PADLOCK IT. BEFORE IT RUINS EVERY RECORD IN THE BOOK.

Sorry, folks. It was a great idea. Economic stimulus. New luxury boxes. Big TV screen. If you televise it, they will come.

Problem is: You don't see a team score 14 runs in an inning unless something is fundamentally screwed up in the air currents. Did you see those balls rocket out of there Saturday? A couple were barely whacked. The place is Category 3 hurricane, a Category 5 disaster.

We cannot honestly believe a new tradition of baseball can flourish in this place. Every Yank will hit 30 home runs. Every Yank ERA will fly over 6.00. ARod will miss the first month and still chase Barry Bonds single-season record.

That fan who threw back Grady Sizemore's opening day slam? He was a visionary. Home run balls are a dime a dozen.

Melky's on course to hit 50!

We're about to see baseball centered on three basic plays: The HR, the BB, the K. It's the Yankee Beer League.

Hey, Osama? You read this blog? One small suitcase nuke oughta do it. But hurry. The Yankees know what every traditionalist is thinking today, and they'll be desperate to wreck the old stadium as soon as possible -- before others voice the same idea.

The old stadium was better. They could have fixed it... but for required luxury boxes.

We pissed away $1 billion as a sop for the wealthy, and we built an abomination to the game.

Wait... don't blow it up!

Can the Jets play there?