But, seriously, who needs another rant about Juan Soto? Go away. Sometime soon, your laptop will ding, causing you to salivate, and you'll see that Soto is heading to NY, or Boston, or anywhere, and it won't matter. We will be left to contemplate the ever-pounding dread: That the Yankees haven't won a trade in three years - and they either pulled the trigger on a bomb, or let a generational slugger go elsewhere. Either way, we at IT IS HIGH will summon enough despair to bury the isle of Manhattan. Today, let's deal with the bigger picture:
New York City sports are irreparably jinxed and broken.
Doesn't matter who you follow. They suck. They always will. You will die before they win anything. Your children will die. Your grandchildren. The Canyon of Heroes will fill with Sahara sands before anybody ever again rides a float through it. The super- volcano, the asteroid, the polar caps - they'll all go poof before we celebrate a championship.
For the record, I'm also a Giants fan. Born that way. Grew up during Mantle/Maris and somehow assumed the Gints were the Yankees of the NFL. Back then, they had Vince Lombardi coaching the OL and Tom Landry running the defense. So, the next head coach? Of course, the team clipboard, Allie Sherman. The rest is history.
The Giants are a franchise of extreme morbidity surrounding rare, one-off Super Bowls.
Yesterday, they capped a miserable first nine games by crapping the bed against a former rival, the despicable Dallas Cowboys. In every way, and in ways I cannot describe, the Giants were humiliated. Honestly, it was almost comical.
The NFL needs a mercy rule, not for individual games, but for entire seasons. If so, the Giants could simply forfeit the last seven and go home. Remember that line out of Vietnam: Who wants to be the last person to die for a cause? Last night, watching the Giants, I wondered: Who wants to tear up a knee for this?
But they were just following protocols. Last night, the Jets lost miserably. The Knicks are 5-4. The Rangers are 11-2, but fuck it, they're the Rangers. (Also, the Liberty lost in the WNBA finals when Breanna Stewart - the greatest player ever, and from Syracuse, by the way - shot 3-for-17. How does that happen?)
To be a NY sports fan means to have the Tankathon site perpetually bookmarked.
Why are NY sports so terrible? I have a theory: Gotham is simply too intense, with too many distractions - the media, the supermodels, the traffic, the stalkers, the drugs, etc. If you play in Kansas City, what else is there to do but practice?
As of today, the Giants posses the second pick in next April's NFL draft. It's fun to speculate. But here's the reality, beaten into me over the years.
1. They will win some meaningless games and draft sixth or seventh.
2. Whomever they pick, he will turn out to be two dwarfs, piggyback in a trenchcoat.
3. Worse teams - think New England and/or Chicago - will win conferences before the Giants do.
I think of it as the Rudy Curse of the Four Seasons. And there is no escape.
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10 comments:
"he will turn out to be two dwarfs, piggyback in a trenchcoat"
Luckily, I wasn't taking a sip of coffee when I read that. Jesus Epheseus, that's hysterical.
The Giants at least can say that their first and second string QBs went down as some sort of excuse. The Jets ain't that lucky.
Do people still watch the Knicks? Why?
As for the Rangers...I always picture Michael Lerner saying, "Big men on skates, Fink!"
It could be much worse. You could be a Jets fan.
But the Knicks? They don't suck nearly as much as every other New York sports team.
I heard recently there is a basketball team in Brooklyn. Could this be true?
The Rangers have something going on right now...see how long it lasts...
Obligatory Monday morning Question:
Is there any way to blame Baby-Stein, Potty Mouth and the tantrum-driven man-child manager for not only all the Yankees problems but everything going wrong with everything everywhere all at once?
(After all, the narrative was a bit too abstracted to appeal to a wider, general audience)
"Breanna Stewart - the greatest player ever, and from Syracuse, by the way - shot 3-for-17. How does that happen?"
Because she was inhabited by the ghost of John
Starks.
Good one, Doug. And very true, Duque.
But I don't think it's the players. Ballplayers can find distractions anywhere—and these days, most of their tastes don't run so much to Broadway watering holes as hanging with their entourages in their mansions.
Nope: it's the ownership. Nearly all the major NYC teams are controlled by nepo babies, incompetents who—in Ann Richards' immortal words—were born on third base and thought they hit a triple.
There ARE people who inherit family businesses and are shrewd enough to put the best people available in charge, and keep them there. Unfortunately, none of these people are named Steinbrenner, Dolan, or Mara.
I’m nearly as big a Giants fan as I am a Yankees fan. Mostly their history is mediocrity or worse, heightened by the ascendant joy of the stunning Super Bowl victories. To “fix” the Giants, May I say with perfect clarity, and in all sincerity, change the fucking uniforms!!!
Actually, Hoss is correct - It’s the owners. Yes, it’s that simple.
Clearly, NY teams suck. Poor coaching, GM's and clueless owners. With the exception of the invisible sport, according to Sport's Radio, Hockey.
In an industry where media contracts, endorsements, merchandise and other funding streams drive sports finance, winning ballgames or even filling stadiums hardly seems to matter. Especially when the empty seats are already paid for by corporate clients. Since Spreadsheet Hal cares only about the total income and value of the team, the outcomes of the games, hardly registers at all.
So long as people buy Yankee merchandise, corporations buy season tickets, advertisers invest in the Yankee brand and all that media money keeps rolling in, the outcome of the games is not even an afterthought.
"Gotham is simply too intense, with too many distractions - the media, the supermodels, the traffic, the stalkers, the drugs, etc."
Viscount Victoria's in midtown Manhattan. Them voluptuous vixens will drive you wild. Them legs, miniskirts, garters, stockings, pantyhose, high heels. No need for Viagra at that place. If you can't get it up there, better check for a pulse & head to the nearest E.R.
Found out about the place after so many Yankee players came up with fractured ribs. Viscount Vicky has a leg scissors special. She can barbell squat 350 lbs on a bad day. If you choose the special, go on an empty stomach, and remember to wear a crucifix around your neck.
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