Seven points re: the Yankees.
1. They do not practice fundamentals. Beneath them.
2. They have squandered Aaron Judge's greatest seasons.
3. Their farm system is far more depleted than they admit.
4. As long as the Mets lose, they face no consequences for failure.
5. Hal fears being yelled at by Cashman.
6. Because they own their own media, they never face real criticism.
7. They will not win a world series in this decade.
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7 comments:
Seven
Rhythms with
Heaven
but not
2 0 2 5
It also rhymes with "11," which reminds me of "Oceans 11," which reminds me of "461 Ocean Boulevard," which reminds me of Miami, which reminds me of Florida, which reminds me that Hal is FUCKING FLORIDIAN AND NOT A NEW YORKERS. That alone should be cause for some governmental intervention and a forced sale of the team to someone who resides in the 5 boroughs.This is peak capitalism, my friends. Are you trying to tell me that big sports is just a business? Say it ain't so, Joe...
How I wish we had an edit button, but I just don't care that much anymore.
Here is what was in my morning feed today:
https://www.facebook.com/share/r/14MLsT3Dg9M/
That analysis is spot on. We’ve been calling for change for years, our voices calling out in the wilderness
Amazing, & so discouraging, how obvious this is to everyone but Cashman, et al.
As the great Elvis Costello wrote, "Money talks/ And it's persuasive."
Funny, saw a couple clips from that "Canyon of Heroes" series that, I think, the Mets' channel, SNY, is running. (Not the Yanks?) These were from the 1998 tickertape celebration, in which everyone is pretty much just giddy. The team was SO great, they had just won their second ring in three years, everyone knew they had more in them. Everybody, even Old George, is mugging and fooling around...
EXCEPT...for Hal. He's sitting up there on the podium at City Hall, surrounded by delirious fans, some bodacious Rockets in stockings just behind him, best ballplayers in the world all around him...and he's not so much as cracking a smile.
Again, I get it. I have a certain understanding of how hard it must have been growing up under George Steinbrenner—and chances are, I really know only a tiny percentage of what it must have been like.
But still. This is not the man to run the New York Yankees. This is the man who listens to the sweet nothings whispered in his ear like some Tolkien court seducer, because they make him feel better.
Hal is never going to win the crapshoot. And that's good by him.
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