It's always exciting to see how fashion designers can improve on the sad and sluggish Yankee uniform - the traditional pinstripes and midnight blue cap that leave everyone channel surfing for American Gladiators. Color me blah. They don't sell Barbie dolls with only one outfit. As Alphonso knows, the fun is dressing Barbie to go with Ken to Malibu... or Cannes... or, in the case of the Yankees, Detroit! And now, we can do the same!
Previously, I thought our Military Barbie Yankee took the cake. The camo-caps and camo-numbers raised awareness toward the plight of veterans. Then Breast Cancer Barbie Yankee's pink number, cap and shoes signified baseball's tireless effort toward saving the tit. The Number 42 worn on Jackie Robinson's birthday - African-American Barbie Yankee - proved there is no racism in baseball. Future uniforms - Jesus is King Barbie Yankee, Second Amendment Wacko Barbie Yankee, Blue Lives Matter Barbie Yankee and - let's dream! - Restored Coal Mining Industry Barbie Yankee can get this country back on track!
But nothing - nothing! - has been more meaningful than this weekend's non-matching stirrup socks, which show the stars on one leg and the stripes on the other. Immediately, it hearkens back to some of the great American traditions, such as Bozo the Clown and - well - Coco the Clown. Clarabell. Ronald McDonald! Are there clowns I've missed? It's long overdue: Clown Barbie Yankee!
The fact is, these haven't been good times for clowns. Last October, our red-nosed brothers were accused of hiding behind dumpsters and chasing children in back alleys. It's great to see that baseball, on this hallowed day, is doing its part to restore the dignity of our most beleaguered entertainers.
Of course, you're all saying the same thing: Restoring American patriotism and dignity costs money, and money doesn't grow on trees. How can MLB afford to take on such a project?
Well, fortunately, we can all do our part. It shouldn't be baseball's job - restoring the American clown. It's everybody's job.
I know what I'll be finding tomorrow under the Independence Day tree in our house. And come October, when I've donned my makeup and stringy red hair, to head for that wooded area behind the elementary school, you can bet that my clowny calves will be feeling the zing of patriotism - thanks to MLB!
In the meantime, chew on this: For all the pain and suffering inflicted on us thus far, we're in line for an extra game in October!
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| Everybody remains viable in the Wild Card race. |
We often remain a contender for the one game play-in until the body is declared " lifeless" by the forensic baseballigist.
ReplyDeleteGeorge wold not take consolation from being on the list, and nor shall I.
Those socks were hideous!
ReplyDeletePogo the Clown, aka John Wayne Gacy.
ReplyDeletehttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fells_Acres_Day_Care_Center_preschool_trial
ReplyDeleteTookey the Clown.
Whole family legally (harassed is not harsh enough) fucked by a prosecutor who wanted a conviction.
...and I forgot my favorite movie when I'm dining at https://www.3floyds.com/brewpub/
ReplyDeleteThe classic, Killer Klowns from Outer Space. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kLovCSv9-Ks
-- Featuring the immortal Dean Wormer, RIP.
Dean Wormer, of all people, would know that once you start letting players grow hipster lumberjack beards and yahoo hillbilly chin hair, it's just the start down a slippery slope. Then the exceedingly ugly and silly uniform desecrations come around. Can't wait for the Exotic Dancer Barbie Yankee with the twirling pasties and thong bottoms. Next thing you know, it'll be Birkenstock Day and everyone will be wearing outfits from a 1970s lesbian bar.
ReplyDeleteI know I'm not on the populist side of this argument. But if you start with the facial hair and beaded braids down to the jersey logo, you end up wearing clown outfits and putting Spiderman Homecoming badges on the bases. Then you get sponsor logos on the uniforms...oh so discreetly at first...and then ads cut into or painted onto the field. ("Judge dove right into the Pabst Blue Ribbon mug painted out there in right field to make the play.")
It's a slippery slope, my august compatriots. You start erasing standards, you get no standards eventually. First, the players start looking like bums, then like ironic bums, then like goofballs, then like clowns, then like hokey jokes for the fans' "amusement."
It's an outrage. An outrage, I say. On the anniversary of the Iron Horse's great farewell speech, can we please bring sanity and tradition back to the appearance of the game and stop all of this nonsense.
I now yield the remainder of my time to the distinguished Senator from Mississippi.
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