Sunday, July 02, 2006

The Only Thing Worse Than A Yankee Fan is Someone Who Doesn't Know What Zachary Taylor Died Of.

He shit himself to death.

Things Old Rough 'n Ready was not Rough 'n Ready for - cholera.
Anyway. Any chance I get to talk about presidential fecal matter, I take.

On Friday night, I went smack into the lion's den - Yankee Stadium. The subservient Indian had procured bleacher tickets to the Subway Series, and although my personal religion dictates that I do not worship at religious facilities not named Shea Stadium, I felt it was the sort of justifiable sacrifice that will one day thrust me into the upper echelons of True Met Fandom. I also figured the ratio of Met fans to Yankee fans would be roughly comparable, and the chances of actually being systematically eliminated by a testosterone-ODing Giambi fan were rather slim. Hence me biking to the South Bronx.

You can't see each individual face in the stands, but 98% of them had 'Cunt' written on their forehead. That's a fact, and you can probably see it if you watch one of those replayed games on YES.

I would like to preface my stinging diatribe against the common Yankee fan by saying that it could have been worse - we could have been in Philadelphia, where I would have ended up with a swollen vulva and probably one eye (knowing my luck, the diseased one). To the best of my knowledge, Yankee Stadium does not come equipped with a court system like the old Veterans Stadium had in Philly, but given how evident the frustration of an average, mediocre season was on these people, they may want to consider installing one in that new stadium they're building. Just saying.

Phillies fans are soooo cool. Looby.

Now, if you have ever been to Yankee Stadium, you're probably aware that the bleachers are inhabited with a strange variation of homo sapien known as the Bleacher Creatures. I am not a fan. I'm pretty sure most of them are perpetual drunks whose idea of a good time is sponsoring a contest to see which one of them can stick their penis in a meat grinder the longest. When we sat down in our seats, Subservient Indian misread the section (which is easy to do in ANY sports/concert facility) and we were actually one section off from where we were supposed to be. We weren't trying to steal someone else's seat. It's the bleachers - there are no bad seats. So we're sitting there respectfully, not giving the swarming masses of Jeter shirt-clad individuals around us shizzle for being three games behind Boston. We're mad respectful, especially since this was enemy territory. THEN, this burly fucktard who looked like he stepped out of that weirdo redneck comedy show with Jeff Foxworthy comes over and starts screeching that we're in his seat, we're in the wrong stadium, blah blah blah. Come on. Christ. It's not like we wouldn't have moved. People need to chill dot com. If these were premium seats for a look at David Wright's ball sac, I could totally understand the aggravation. That's a premium holding sack of quality baseball sperm there. But this was row P in right field. Unless you have a fetish for a sideways view of Johnny Damon's ass, there is no reason to almost make subservient Indians cry.

I would pay up to $25 for the ball sac view. I'm not made of money.

My general beef with Yankee fans is that 75% of the people in this city claim to be Yankee fans, and then when you ask them to name their starting rotation, they MIGHT say Mike Mussina and they MIGHT say Randy Johnson, but I have never had someone rattle off the other three. This applies to basically every fan in every sport, but I don't care about the other ones because they're not the ones sneering at me and delivering their Yankees stump speech: The Mets suck, 26 world championships, Derek Jeter, etc. Also, if you encounter a Yankee fan on the street, there's a excellent chance that, if you ask them how long they've been a Yankee fan, they will cite a date after 1995. I'm obviously not saying there aren't people who haven't hearted the Yankees for decades, but every time you have a team with an impressive winning percentage over the course of a string of seasons, you get those batshit fans who get off on short-term gains and nothing else.
Are there Mets fans like that? Sure. I saw three Mets fans in 2003, and I can't throw a tampon without smearing menstrual blood on 35 of them now. However, they're not the ones making Indians cry into their Jose Reyes jersey.

I downloaded two Daddy Yankee songs because Jose Reyes said they were amazing in the NY Post. <3 Gasolina. If someone in the Post told me that I could become President by smearing poop on the Arch in Washington Square, I would do it. I would actually do it if one of my friends casually suggested it.



Post a Comment

<< Home