Tag Archives: double standards

Mets Block Yankees, Crush City’s Dreams

DOWN-TRODDEN NEWARK, NJ–It was revealed on Monday night that the Mets, an alleged major league franchise, had blocked the Yankees’ efforts to temporarily relocate their triple-A franchise to Newark. Critics have already labeled it the greatest miscarriage of justice in the history of baseball.

Supporters of the move say the arrival of the team from Scranton-Wilkes Barre could have rejuvenated this benighted urban area and brought a brief glimmer of hope to the many forlorn widows and orphans of this fair metropolis fallen on hard times. Instead, their dreams are snuffed, as they are denied the only thing that could brighten a crime-ridden, drug-addled, gang-ruled hellhole: minor league baseball.

“I tried everything with those cold-hearted Mets,” said a Yankees official, who could not be identified as his face was too obscured by large, bitter tears. “I promised we wouldn’t make the move permanent. I promised we would okay any move they wanted to make with their own minor league teams. Wilpon was unmoved by my pleas. First he asked for my watch, which was a graduation gift from my mother. I gladly gave it over, thinking only of the poor children of Newark. Then he asked me to get on my knees and pay homage to The Dark Lord. That I simply could not do. So he threw me out on the curb. And he kept the watch.”

Newark has a grand tradition of Yankee minor league affiliates. However, the team has not had a farm team in the city since 1949. Some believe that the Mets may have traveled back in time and forced the legendary Newark Bears to go bankrupt, paving way for the regrettable National League expansion of 1962 that gave birth to their hellish form.

Critics of the Mets say that the Yankees never have and never would engage in such churlish, petty behavior. They also point out that the Yankees’ attitude toward their “crosstown rivals” has never been short of cordial, and they have never attempted to interfere with their operations. Unlike the Mets, the Yankees have always conducted themselves with the utmost class and grace. To have the Yankees’ ceaseless kindness to their lesser neighbors repaid in such fashion is the kind of brazen insult that, in times of yore, would have demanded a duel of honor. No jury would convict them of such a “crime,” and yet they will surely take the higher road, as they always have.

“They couldn’t have won all those championships without always being consummate gentlemen,” said some guy I met on line at Starbucks while writing this article. “Only good people win things.”

Fred Wilpon was unapologetic for his act of wanton cruelty. Speaking while seated in a gargoyle-topped throne, each leg of which sat on a freshly killed puppy, Wilpon told the assembled reporters (all of whom were forced to genuflect in his presence), “I hate children.” He then drank from a chalice that may or may not have contained human blood.

The Jeff Francoeur Guide to Media Relations

francoeur2.jpgThis is bogus, man! Jerry wants me to platoon just because I’m dangerously unqualified to play in the majors! And just when I’m about to hit my 100th home run, too! That’s it, I gotta get a trade outta this dump. Anywhere but here. This is so unfair! Carlos, back me up on this.

beltran2.jpgHuh? I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. There’s hundreds of angry fans screaming at me for being a clubhouse cancer.

francoeur2.jpgWhoah, that’s totally unfair! If I were you, I’d grab a reporter and tell him my side of the story.
beltran2.jpgI would do that, but the reporters are right at front of the mob, brandishing pitchforks.

francoeur2.jpgYou’re too uptight, dude. You just gotta take it free and easy, like me.
beltran2.jpgBut if I take it free and easy, the reporters say I’m not hustling.
francoeur2.jpg*pfft* Don’t listen to those guys, man. If they write stuff like that, just give ’em the cold shoulder.
beltran2.jpgWhenever I ignore the writers, they say I’m aloof and unapproachable. Oh, and sometimes they threaten my family.
francoeur2.jpgI don’t know what half those words mean and you’re old. How about you, Jose? You’re a young go-getter. You gotta understand what I’m saying.
reyes2.jpgI’d like to help you out, Jeff, but I’m too busy trying to explain to the beat writers that me occasionally dancing isn’t the worst thing to happen to baseball since the Black Sox.
francoeur2.jpgSo you dance sometimes! Big deal! Why don’t you just ask for a trade to a different city, like me? You just gotta take what you want! I watched this motivational thingy once where this one really tall guy said that.
reyes2.jpgBecause the writers would throw bricks in my face if I did that.
francoeur2.jpgYou guys are too timid. Hey, there’s Angel Pagan. This guy gets it.
pagab.jpgYeah, I get it straight up the pooper from the sports press, because I’m having a huge year and yet somehow I don’t “play the game the right way”. Meanwhile, you swing at everything that moves and get away with murder.
francoeur2.jpgHey, don’t pin this on me, broham! Don’t get mad at me ’cause I make an effort to get to know the scribes.
pagab.jpgI tried to shake Bill Madden’s hand once, and he bit me! On the head!
beltran2.jpgWallace Matthews shit in a box and sent it to me, on my birthday.
reyes2.jpgThe only reason I’m still playing baseball is because Mike Lupica kidnapped my children.
francoeur2.jpgThat’s so weird. You guys are way better players than me. Why would the press give you such a hard time?
beltran2.jpgTake a guess.
francoeur2.jpgYou were all born on Tuesdays? I always heard reporters hate Tuesdays.
reyes2.jpgTake another guess.
francoeur2.jpgMaybe you don’t smile hard enough.
pagab.jpgTake another guess. Why do you think reporters might be more receptive to an aw-shucks boy from Georgia than three guys who come from foreign lands and have funny accents?
francoeur2.jpgI don’t have time to play your mind games. I gotta split. Me and Joel Sherman are gonna hit the lunch buffet at Temptations. Hasta manana, amigos!
reyes2.jpgIs it easier being that dumb if you’re that white?

beltran2.jpgShhh. If you listen hard, you can hear him swing and miss at something.