The comedic template behind Curb Your Enthusiasm - the great "let's-laugh-at-the-boomer" comedy from Larry David - hinges on the beginning and ending of each episode.
It starts with Larry bestriding his world of status and acclaim like a self-anointed colossus. It ends with him standing in a parking lot, being yelled at by - well - everybody.
We can relate. We've been there. It's a pretty... pretty... pretty... perfect parable for modern life, the rise and fall of everyone. In recent years, it has come to mirror David's favorite team - the Yankees, of course:
So... here we are: One measly, stinking game ahead in the AL East, plummeting in YES-Mo into a wild card race that, barely a month ago, seemed like a joke.
On May 28, the Yankees led their knock-kneed division by seven games, and only the Tigers - a team that would surely wilt - stood between them and home field advantage through October. Yank fans could savor history's greatest hitter, perhaps the league's Cy Young pitcher, and the game's best bullpen. How could we end up being yelled at?
I believe the answer stems from the under-appreciated comedic genius of Aaron Boone. The man is a master of physical humor and sight gags. He deserves an Emmy or - better - a Nobel prize. Last night, there he was, looping his long arms like Art Carney, trying to separate an enraged Jazz Chisholm from the home plate umpire. He looked like Lucy over the chocolates, simultaneously trying to berate the ump and calm his player, as the game slid away. Masterful.
Of course, it failed. Chisholm got booted, Boone nearly followed, and the Yankees ended up losing in 11 with five infielders, including a LF at 2B and a catcher playing 3B. Together, they watched a blooper fall.
Cringe comedy gold. And it always requires the protagonist to fall ingloriously from his summit of hubris and self-appreciation. Night after night, the Yankees are perfecting this.
Their remarkable offense - the Solo Homer Attack - is a work of art. Last night, Ben Rice hit a massive blast - nobody on, of course - and then they were done. Their "offense" came from a misplayed fly ball that turned into a triple, and a wild pitch with a runner on third. Aside from Rice's shot, nobody drove in a run with an actual well-barreled hit.
I believe we are starting to see the 2025 Yankees for what they are. This is not the power team of the AL. It's a team that strikes out 12 times per game, a team that cannot hold leads, a team full of injuries, past and future, a team in - as Larry David would say - is in a pretty.... pretty... pretty.,.. deep freefall.
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Boone make idiotic decision in attempt to mask previous idiotic decision.
Hilarity ensues.
...unless you're a Yankee fan.
Max Might
Might Max
Mighty Mighty
Maximum
Martyrdom
Ensues *
* jazz
improvisational
impressionable
travis
you looking at me?
bickle
oh
man-
-child
I feel like I’m beating a dead horse here, but this is a total organizational failure and nobody is ever held accountable for their actions. Everything is addressed with a pat on the back and the cliche du jour. We shouldn’t be surprised when nothing improves.
From Katie Sharp:
“ Yankees have 5 losses when leading by multiple runs at the start (top) of the 7th inning.
That's the most in MLB this season.”
I went to a game last night - a real ballgame - with Tommy Shirts, a major reader/non-poster here. some would call that a "lurker," but I like to think he's a lover, a lover of lurking, and my significant other. We had amazing seats for almost no money, first time I have ever sat on the field level in my whole life.
Who did we see? The Brooklyn Cyclones versus the Jersey Shore Blue Claws. I kept yelling out "BLUE BALLS, BLUE BALLS." And yes, it was foolish and dangerous to sit there on the hottest June day ever recorded in New York City - we are all still recovering today - but it was a LOT of fun. It was real baseball. Bunting, stealing, sliding, timely hitting. A bunch of guys who were hungry to succeed, who all had a dream, who were not busy reading "Golf" magazine and griping about their team of investment managers. The food was good. Hey, a Pat LaFreida booth, Nathan's dogs and Mister Softee stand? What's not to like?
They had some psychotic alcoholic wearing a red suit and a crown who had a mic and acted like the master of ceremonies the whole game. This was, I'll admit, very Met-like - but IT WAS FUN. Every half inning. some local cheerleaders came out, or they'd give an award to some 6 year old or something. It was entertainment for the people! My faves? The hot dog race between three guys dressed as hot dogs - one was ketchup, one was mustard and one was relish. It was hot as fuck and man, did they run. And even weirder, they had two young virile dudes they picked from the stands - there were no more than 1000 people there. They pink tutus on these guys and had them pull ballet moves on the first base line. Let me tell you, those motherfuckers put their hearts into it. You could tell, these union tradesman types must do ballet moves on their lunch breaks. The crowd chose Ben as the winner.
My girlfriend - actually fiancee, but "girlfriend" sounds better - said it was the first time since she was in New York that made her feel like she was in Kansas, which is where she was for 10 years prior. She was a big fan of the Wichita Wind Surge, that horribly named minor league team. The point is, it's not hard to make baseball fun. What's difficult is making it a horrible experience but, somehow, the Yankees have succeeded in doing that. We all want to do it again. Too bad the Yankees have made it difficult to follow their minor league affiliates in person. It's just a business, Jake, move right along...
That indeed sounds like a superb experience, Bitty.
It sure does, Bitty! I'm sure you could see what drew people to Coney, especially in the days before AC or summer clothing.
You were sitting right where Steeplechase Park, the very first, real amusement park used to stand. (It was still in the black in 1964, but then a would-be developer named Fred Christ Trump bought it, had a big party, and hired showgirls to pass out bricks so people could hurl them through the park's fabled, painted glass enclosure. He then tore it down...and built nothing.)
But I digress. It does sound like baseball like it oughta be. Tommy Shirts sounds delightful; I'm sure she is. And as far as the Yankees go...I'm still standing on 66 wins for the season.
Ah, Mister Softee. One of the funniest Curb episodes that explains why Larry flubbed the play at shortstop while playing on his NYC softball team. I wish examining Volpe's continual sloppy play as SS were as simple. Another fuck up by him at a crucial time last night. Perhaps Anthony had a similar and traumatic " caught with your clothes off" moment.
Psychotic alcoholic pretty much sums up this crowd.
I highly recommend Hudson Valley for a game. Commuter rail to Beacon. Only issue is uber to and from the park can be iffy and last train back to the city is 10ish, so afternoon game is safer.
The Yankees used to have a state-of-the-art MiLB stadium to house its AA affiliate, the Norwich Navigators. It was a great place to see a game. The Twins had a AA team called the New Haven Ravens that played in the old Yale Bowl.. MY twins used theto love to go there when they were kids as between every half-inning there was some kind of contest or give away.
There were a few more teams in CT as well including the Bristol Red Sox, more informally called the "Brisox." If you go back in time, there were the Bridgeport Bees, a place many old Yankees stars played, including Lou Gehrig. Currently, only one minor league team remains-the Hartford Yard Goats whose affiliation I don't know. Sad.
Another Curb connection: The show features the character referred to as "L.D." It is Far.... has its own "El D." Coincidence?
Beacon is not a difficult drive for me, Rufus. I wish I could bring my small dog along. That's the biggest impediment.
You have met Tommy, Hoss, at the Tavern meetup and the major shindig two years ago. She is delightful and, as Tom always reminds me, I am batting above my average in that department. The point is: baseball IS inherently fun. Even if it's a business, it's fun. How much universal evil force and powers-of-darkness energy did it take for Hal, Brian and Bonnie to turn it into a terrible experience? It's not easy to fuck up something so naturally great. It's not easy to fuck that up, but they somehow did and continue to every day. I think I put my guess in the low 70s. I forget. No matter how many wins they get, we will all be sucking on a tailpipe come November.
AA team - No connection.
That said. - I remember all the time that I spent at Yale Bowl…..thanks for that grey matter jiggle, Carl.
Now if only I could lunch today at Louis’ Lunch……DRAT !
Let me know if you are going to do that. I can pick you up at Beacon...
The Hartford Yard Goats are a Minor League Baseball team based in Hartford, Connecticut. The Yard Goats, which play in the Eastern League, are the Double-A affiliate of the Colorado Rockies. The team was founded in 2016 when the New Britain Rock Cats relocated to Hartford. The Yard Goats' home stadium is Dunkin' Park. (Wikipedia)
Back when I lived closer to Nashua, NH, they had the Pirates AA team. Saw the infamous Felix Fermin play there as well as Bobby Bonilla.
Early congrats to Bobby for making it to July 1st again.
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