2. He came on too aggressively; that stuff turns a girl off.
3. A lefty slugger in Yankee Stadium? That's absurd.
4. He looked like the type who would want to grow a beard.
5. Those claims that he'd been a Yankee fan all his life? Who believes that?
6. It was obvious that he couldn't handle the pressure.
7. Age 26? Way too young. They'd wait until he's 39.
8. The Yankees simply had no money. And did the fans bother to thank them for all that they were already spending?
9. I mean, the showers needed refinishing, and the old gasheap needed new tires. How was Hal expected to live on the meager money he was making off the Yankees?
10. It doesn't grow on trees, people.
17 comments:
9.5 Don't forget the $80MM we need to spend each year just to service the note that funded construction of the new stadium!
11. What the hell kind of name is Bryce, anyway?
17. The Master's call --> "BRYCE - THEY PAID THE PRICE!" had too much of a troubling double meaning for Hal so he crushed the deal like a seven pound 42nd street cockroach under his Gucci loafers . . .
@ AA, Is there such a thing as a fucking seven pound cockroach in NYC? Now that would be the great granddaddy of them all. Yankee entomologists are reportedly fascinated by this possible sighting of a monster roach.
Maybe we could do a "Monster Quest" episode: in search of the giant cockroach rumored to have crushed by Prince Hal on 42nd Street; Monster Quest is attempting to find Hal's Gucci loafers that may have DNA evidence of the giant creature; the shoes were sold to a pawn shop on 57th Street; will the DNA, if found, show mutations indicative of giantism?
Per NYPost, Yankee revenue was 685 Mill; payroll 273 Mill; luxury tax 130 Mill. So if the math is correct, that means HAL made 282 Mill this year.
That'll buy a lot of new Gucci loafers, Longines watches, Italian suits, Kentucky bourbon, Alligator infested swampland in Florida, a fleet of Land Rovers and hovercrafts to patrol his new swamplands.
Hammer - The one and only time I went to The Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station (late 70's) and ordered a bowl of New England Clam Chowder I plunged my soup spoon into the steaming bowl and pulled out the largest cockroach I'd ever seen. Half submerged in what certainly appeared to be a tasty broth, it was clinging lifelessly to a lovely diced piece of potato.
Completely grossed out I called over my server who shrugged it off indifferently and said he would get me a different bowl.
I politely said no thank you and just left.
That critter wasn't a seven pounder but it was on 42nd street and was my inspiration for Hal's boat shoe beast.
MORE COFFEE!!!
Don’t forget that he runs to first base. That would show up some of the “stars” on the team!
Cashman is a putz. Hal is cheap. 5 points each!
AA, Must've been an American cockroach. They're pretty big. If that don't gross you out, they bear live young, no eggs.
Mental note to myself (with five *****): Never, ever order clam chowder, especially in NYC.
Hey man, on that note, I just saw "The Exterminator" yesterday. I can't believe this came out in 1980 and I never once saw or heard of it through more than forty years. Never once saw it on t.v. A poor man's version of Charles Bronson's "Death Wish". More killing, less talking.
Yankee front office could use some exterminatin'. Who ya gonna call? Is The Exterminator still in business?
His hair is too long. And Ca$hole is the jealous type, being follicly challenged.
18) Harper is a Mormon and wears Magic Underwear which is the secret of his success. That high-priced underwear was just too expensive for Hal to buy in the quantity Bryce would need for the total of his contract years.
BRYCE - THEY PAID THE PRICE!*
*for his magic underwear
Happy Friday the 13th EVERYONE!
That's pretty funny, AA—though the Oyster Bar is much better (and much more expensive!) these days.
Many years ago, I had a job at the "Tweed Courthouse" behind City Hall. It was called that because the whole building was an astound piece of graft by Boss Tweed, before they took him off to the Ludlow Street Jail.
Anyway, when I was at the men's urinal, inevitably the longest pair of roach antennae I have ever seen, would poke out from below the flusher. I had the perverse desire to yank that sucker up—but dreaded what I'd find. Perhaps the reincarnated body of the Boss himself, doing penance? I didn't wanna find out!
HC - I had long desired trying something at the Oyster Bar - commuting in daily to Grand Central for a while from Connecticut to go to that "college" we talked about at the game - and that one time I finally had the opportunity . . . . . . . free protein!!!
Just read about Boss Tweed's final years - interesting tale . . .
Do we lower ourselves by discussing the machinations of a moron? I guess we need to do it. I guess we MUST do it. What else would be talk about if not Cashman? One day, we will prevail and we can discuss the joys once more of winning and domination, but of now we must trudge the frozen tundra through the land of darkness and evil.
Bitty, that’s hilarious!
Lowering ourselves by discussing the machinations of a moron?!?!?
THAT’S ALL WE DO HERE!!!!
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