Tag Archives: george steinbrenner

Baseball

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.

Baseball

Scientists Warn of Steinbrenner Monument’s Effects on the Earth’s Orbit

steinmonument.jpgNEW YORK–Scientists cautioned that the new monument dedicated to George Steinbrenner, unveiled at Yankee Stadium Monday night, may have negative effects on several of the Earth’s astronomical functions. Despite warnings from the scientific community at large, the UN, and several prominent clergymen, construction of the monument–which used 92 percent of the earth’s available deposits of granite–continued unabated for the past year.

“It will definitely influence the earth’s gravitational pull,” said Dr. Henrik Lundegaard, professor of geophysics at Princeton University. “It will probably also have some consequences for the planet’s revolution around the sun.” Lundegaard estimated that, due the monument’s colossal size, “the calendar year will probably lengthen a full day by the year 2031, and exponentially more each year thereafter, which will have untold consequences for life as we know it.”

The Yankees were unfazed by such revelations. “I think it’s a fitting tribute to The Boss,” said shortstop Derek Jeter. “All he wanted to do was win, and what bigger victory is there than beating the tilt of the Earth’s axis?”

“We all loved Mr. Steinbrenner,” said pitcher Andy Pettite, “and I think it’s only appropriate that his monument should have its own climate.” This separate ecosystem, reportedly a temperate zone, may explain the appearance of several tornadoes on the Grand Concourse within the last week.

A spokesman for the Yankees confirmed that the team will unveil a monument to the Steinbrenner monument during the 2012 season. “It will take that long for us to locate and mold an appropriate amount of adamantium,” the spokesman said.

Baseball

The Specter of Steinbrenner

bigstein.jpgThis seems as good a time as any to tell you about my ephemeral run-in with George Steinbrenner.

I grew up in a Cop Town north of New York City. It seemed like everyone I knew as a kid, their dad was either a policeman or a fireman in the city. (My dad was a notable exception; for most of my childhood, he veered between insurance, finance, and alcohol-aided unemployment.)

One of my best friends was a huge Yankees fan. His dad was a cop. His dad also worked the security detail for George Steinbrenner. My memory is vague on the finer points of the nature of this work; I think he may have been The Boss’s driver at some point. I don’t know if this work was actually part of his NYPD duty or something on the side. My guess is the latter.

When we graduated from elementary school, my friend’s dad got us tickets for a Yankee game. Somehow I squeezed my mom for enough money to buy a program while I was there (our family finances were mired in the Dirt Poor range at the time), because on the few occasions I got to go to a baseball game, I HAD to score it. I don’t know where I picked up this filthy habit, but it still haunts me. For four years, I brought a scorebook to every Met game I went to for the same purpose.

Midway through the game, my friend’s dad decided to give us a treat by bringing us “behind the scenes” in the Yankee offices. A security guard waved us through a couple of imposing glass doors, and then a blazer-wearing tour guide showed us around the “backstage” area, which looked more or less like any other office, except with pictures of Mickey Mantle and Babe Ruth everywhere.

He then walked us through the slim hallway that backed the press booths. We stopped briefly behind the WPIX booth, where Phil Rizzuto and Lou Piniella (post-managerial stint) were manning the mics. I waved at them and Scooter waved back. I felt weirdly excited about it.

We were then brought back into the office area, and into a big office. It had a very large desk in it, and it had a fantastic view of the field, with wall to floor windows. But apart from that, it was relatively sparse: a modest bookshelf, a few chairs, and that was pretty much it. Not even any art hanging from the walls. Its only opulent feature was a couch shaped like an old fielder’s mitt, which I decided was the greatest thing ever.

A TV was on in the office. I saw that Don Mattingly had just singled. I’d been carrying my program around this whole time, attempting to keep up with the game. So I leaned on the desk to mark this down on the scorecard.

“And this,” the tour guide said, “is Mr. Steinbrenner’s office.”

I recoiled from the desk in abject terror. I felt like I’d just grabbed Genghis Khan’s spear. I’d toyed with the prize possession of a terrible, wrath-filled warlord. My friend later told me I leaped a good five feet from the desk. I thought that somehow, Steinbrenner would know I’d touched his desk. He’d just feel it, sense his aura being disturbed, and come storming up there to punish me in the most gruesome way possible. But the tour guide just laughed and we moved on.

I don’t remember anything else from that game, except that we left early because it was a night game and not an ideal era to be out too late in The Bronx (even if you were accompanied by a cop). Because I was too scared that somehow, George Steinbrenner was going to find out I’d leaned on his desk and…I don’t know, fire me?

I was way too old to be thinking such things, and I knew it, but the notion would not leave me. The specter of Steinbrenner was far too strong.