With apologies to Ian Dury and that other set of Blockheads (not the ones in the Yankees front office).
As the Yankees stagger yet again to the end of a disappointing season, here is the latest memo from The Glass Half-Full Department:
—Aaron Judge cannot possibly play any worse than this.
—We won't feel nearly as bad now when Brian Cashman lets Juan Soto sign with the Mets.
—We won't feel nearly as bad now when Brian Cashman trades The Martian for an injured pitcher.
—Bullpen problems? Who says we're going to play anything like a meaningful late inning?
—It looks like the fall television season is a corker. Reba McEntire is in some sitcom where she owns a bar, and everybody knows your name and they're always glad you came. Plus, Frasier is back!
—Now Brian Cashman can really concentrate on re-signing Gleyber Torres.
—Now Brian Cashman can really concentrate on re-signing Alex Verdugo.
—Let's go, Mets!
—Now we can cheer on the Jets as they fight for the Super Bowl.
—Now we can cheer on the Giants as they fight for the top draft pick.
—At least we won't have to watch Shohei Ohtani strike out Aaron Judge in the World Series.
—Hey, you knew Rizzo wasn't going to hit in the postseason anyway.
—Hey, now Nestor Cortes can return for the 2026 season tanned, rested, and nastier than ever.
—I really don't think we've paid enough attention yet to this glorious election season.
—C'mon, you always knew the real team in town this year was the Knicks. Why with Robinson and Hartenstein ruling the paint, and Donte gunning from outside— Wait, what's that?
—Maybe this is the Rangers' year. No, not the Texas Rangers!
—Look at all those free agents out there! Didn't you always want to see Pete Alonso's declining years?
—I, for one, can't wait to see the Phillies spank those Astros!
—Three words: New. York. Liberty.
—Two words: Brooklyn. Nets.
—One word and assorted initials: NJ/NY Gotham FC.
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17 comments:
Soon, we'll finally be through with John Sterling (how can we miss him if he won't say goodbye?) and get back to the mellifluous millennial melodies of Justin Shackil.
It's all a crapshoot. You can't predict baseball. We already won. Life is a cabaret, old chum. I can't get no satisfaction. I believe I'll dust my broom.
Results don't matter. Your chewing gum does lose its flavor on the bedpost overnight.
Blasphemy!
Is no one watching the game? Well, you're lucky then...
Team's a fucking joke. They've won their last game for the year. Is there any sense tuning in on Saturday?
Wells pinch hitting for Stanton. Long fly ball out.
A Robert Johnson reference, Bitty? Oh, baby, I love it!
That Verdugo really swinging the bat there.
Indeed. Where was this bat for the first 161 games?
Would anyone mind if I was in control of the Yankees for just 90 days - starting tomorrow? I promise to do many more of the right things
Above,
I'd rather you'd have done that last December.
Roofuss -!there is no time like the present - and although hindsight is 20/20 - I am not Cher - I cannot turn back time - I can only move forward. So I will leave this up to you…
AA - take the wheel! Let's go for it. And Hoss, you all better come on in my kitchen cause it's going to be raining outside. And Hal - I hope the theme song to the Palisades Amusement Park commercial is running through your head every night when you try to fall asleep - unsuccessfully - every day for the rest of your life.
Oh, and hey, the uh, Yankees won. The, uh, aforementioned Yankees won.
Oh, it's going to be a grim Fall.
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