Today, we sell our soul.
Yeah, not the first time. But usually, we're the ones buying souls, old worn-out souls that were pre-washed by a middle-market franchise that was looking for 240 innings a season.
Today, we sell our dirt. (Actually, George III once paid for dirt on Dave Winfield, but that's another story.)
Today, the Yankee braintrust holds a show-and-tell to unveil the priceless treasures of old Yankee Stadium, the limited edition, authentic collectable, notarized keepsakes -- official dirt, sod, toilet seats, urinal cakes, slop buckets -- who knows? Maybe Yogi autographed the wrapper of a Hershey Bar.
For sale.
Merchandise.
OK, nothing wrong with capitalism. Cash don't grow on trees. Why not a garage sale.
How much can we get for a used soul?
Genuine House that Ruth Built Pigeon Droppings.
Let's start the bidding at $10! Do I have eleven? Who'll gimmie eleven?
This would explain why my question about the section number sign from the railing in right field where I used to sit with my dad as a kid went unanswered for the last 4 months. I guess the silence meant wait for the auction.
ReplyDeleteAnd stupid me, I was sitting here thinking it meant "we don't give a rat's left testicle about our fans." In actuality it meant "We don't give a rat's left testicle about our fans but we still want your money."
Ive been waiting for this day for so long. Just so I could post this video on blogs.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xvmZ9SPcTzU