What an honor. The Yankees are one of the five finalists for Masahiro Tanaka.
The other nominees are:
The Los Angeles Dodgers (Dallas Buyers Club).
The Seattle Mariners (12 Years a Slave).
The Chicago Cubs (Gravity).
The Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, California (Her).
The Arizona Diamonbacks (Nebraska).
And a write-in candidate, Boston? (The Wolf of Wall Street).
Can you feel the jitters? Who should we wear? Gotta lose six pounds. Must fit in that suit. Do we dare write our acceptance speech? So many little people to thank. The Steinbrenners, Mr. Cashman, the team, the fans. Must be gracious. Only get thirty seconds. Don't forget to thank God. Need a few stiff ones beforehand. Fasten the zip. No wardrobe malfunctions. Keep the smile on. If we lose, don't give the bastards anything to use against us.
But damn: When Bud Selig and Yu Darvish open the envelope up on the stage, I might faint.
Gotta go work out. Get the hair done. Gotta look good. (Should we take out another ad in the Tokyo newspaper?)
Of course, if we're not chosen, it's still a great honor. And who knows, at the after-party party, we could take home a Ubaldo.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
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