From The Desk Of Randy L : On The Yankees’ Crosstown Rivals & Their Willingness To Poison The Opposition (& Themselves)
(EDITOR’S NOTE : from time to time, noted Bronx baseball executive / labrador enthusiast Randy L. shares his thoughts of the day with the lucky CSTB readership. Following the New York Mets scoring 21 runs over 2 nights against the Yankees in the Nu Stadium leg of the Subway Series, Randy offered, well, he demanded to have his say – GC)
Greetings, citizens of Yankee Universe and the slovenly, slouchy, unshaven, garbage-stench persons in 7-Line t-shirts that saw fit to leave my glorious baseball palace covered in hot dog wrappers, urine and used syringes. It was like visiting Jason Giambi in his hotel suite the morning after a night game! What sort of fetid dump plays host to “humans” like this anyway?
Oh right, CITI FIELD, that glittering monument to a family that after further enriching themselves thru the most nefarious of means, now cries poorhouse anytime their long-suffering GM so much as wants to buy a new pack of toner. Yeah, I’m well aware the Mets put quite a beating on our boys the last two evenings, but there’s little glory in running up the score, especially against a Yankee squad decimated by injuries. I’m pretty sure it was Harvey Keitel or Edward James Olmos who once said, “when the going gets tough, the tough get going.” And get going we shall, though you’ll note Cashman and both of the genetic lottery winners who unjustly bear the last name Steinbrenner got going out of here at around 1pm this afternoon. Not sure what’s up with Hal and Hank, maybe they had tickets for a “Godzilla” preview (still pissed we couldn’t work out some sort of Hideki Matsui licensing fee for that one — I guess you can just steal intellectual property these days with no recourse). Brian’s got his Depo-Provera appointment, and if nothing else, that should make him a little less excitable if he has to answer any questions tonight after our pitchers get shelled.
All kidding aside, I offer nothing but congratulations to my close friends, Saul Katz, Fred & Jeff Wilpon, on the Mets’ past two victories. It’s a crying shame such an achievement had to be tarnished by news reports the Citi Field outpost of Oscar Meyer’s Shake Shack had apparently caused projectile vomiting on the part of Phillies manager Ryne Sandburg and Mets 1B Lucas Duda. Guys, I can fully understand serving tainted meat to a visiting team, but sickening one of your players? CLASSIC METS, though I will admit I generated a similar reaction from the entire Yankee front office when I mistakenly CC’d everyone on the hidden camera footage I’d obtained of our former 3rd baseman challenging a half dozen muscular women in what was apparently a futile attempt to revive the Apartment Wrestling circuit of the 1960′s.
In contrast to the piles of gristle, sawdust and rat feces that compose Shake Shack’s burgers, offerings at our highly rated NYY Steak, conveniently located at Yankee Stadium result in only the happiest of family gatherings, anniversary dinners, etc. NOT TRIPS TO THE FUCKING EMERGENCY ROOM. You know that old joke about Elton John having his stomach pumped? Well, I don’t. I keep waiting for someone to tell it to me. But I’m almost 100% certain the punch line has nothing to do with NYY Steak, where we observe the highest standards in food preparation.
Go get ‘em tonight, Bombers. I’ll take my victory WELL DONE.