Sunday, July 7, 2013

A-Rod booed in a magical land of Yankee love

I have never been to Viera, Florida. Frankly, until yesterday, I never heard of the place. I assume it's a town named after Meredith Viera, which is long overdue. (Is there a Philbin, Arkansas?)

Yesterday, the leather-tanned Yankee fans of Veira took time out from cooking meth and licking eyeballs to heartily boo Alex Rodriguez's every move, like critics at a Pauly Shore comeback. They booed A-Rod when he advanced to the plate, booed him when he swung, and they cheered like Floridians when he was plunked on his surgically repaired hip.

Listen: They did the Yankiverse a favor. They previewed the soundtrack for the next three months.  Because every time A-Rod comes to the plate in a foreign city, such as Cleveland, we will hear jeers so sound and unrelenting that it will sound as if Satan himself just stepped into view. It will begin as Robbie Cano finishes his at-bat (I assume A-Rod will bat fourth) and continue well into the next batter's approach.

Keep in mind: They will cheer Derek Jeter, and in pre-game ceremonies give a big check to Mariano Rivera's charity. When A-Rod comes up, they will turn on the broiler. Get used to it, everybody.

I've defended A-Rod on this blog, not because I like him, but because of Eugene V. Debs, who said, "While there is a soul in prison, I am not free." Frankly, A-Rod never gets a fair shake among the Gammonites, the magpies. If another base-runner chops down on Bronson Arroyo's arm and knocks the ball loose, he's a gritty player. If A-Rod does it, he's a thug. If another player yells "Ha," causing the Blue Jays to let a pop fly fall, the guy is hailed as a winner. When A-Rod does it, he's bush league.

We face two two scenarios in the second half of the Yankee season:

1. A-Rod fails. Maybe he never makes it out of places like Viera or - worse - comes to the Bronx and can't hit better than Reid Brignac. If this happens, the fans will boo so relentlessly that some actually will start feeling sorry for the guy. I personally don't think it's right to boo a guy for getting old. But A-Rod is the exception to every rule. If A-Rod fails, he will be booed out of the game.

2. A-Rod comes back. Here, everything gets volatile. Spurred on by the boos, the Gammonites will rake A-Rod with every condemnation they can muster. Many will turn to Vladimir Putin - I'm sorry, I meant Bud Selig.That could end A-Rod's season - along with the Yankees. That it's arbitrary - nobody has failed the MLB drug tests, which Selig so proudly touted for effectiveness - won't matter. Selig could declaw the Yankees and effectively destroy the pennant race in New York.

Clearly, the people of Veira would prefer Scenario Number One. They must be Yankee fans.


Tom said...

Florida has more mean-as-rattlesnakes rednecks, per capita, than any other state, including Georgia and Texas. Nonetheless, the Babbitts of Viera do represent the national mood, as dictated by ESPN's fever for extended suspensions before the hearsay evidence is in. A-Rod is an all-time knucklehead whose clumsy attempts at message-control and image-building have been consistently undermined by his preening and his need for acclaim and approval. Hal Steinbrenner insisted on signing him, and the Yankees are doing a great job of making him suffer for his fortune. Question: When Jeter announced last week that he was ready to start rehab games, how come Cashman didn't go ballistic. I love Jeter as much as the next Yankee fan, but it's kind of hard not to see the double standard at work here for the Captain and the Whipping Boy.

KD said...

Don't know who preens more; A-Rod, Cashman, or my mother's parrot. My vote goes to Cashman.

SanJoseKid said...

They are planning a nuclear waste dump in South Carolina. I'll put up $20 if they change the venue to Viera, Florida. Just tell those goobers in Viera that radiation makes you HIGH,HIGH,HIGH! Florida wrecked this country by seeing that Al Gore was denied his electoral votes. Now they plunk A-Rod. They deserve the radiation that they missed out on in 1962 when Fidel and Nikita had a little treat in store for 'em.