THREE AND OUT OR THREE OUTS?

Yesterday was what I hoped would be a great day. Yes, both football and baseball all in one afternoon. The best part was the games were scheduled one after the other. TLW (The Little Woman) had announced that she would be away all afternoon because of a baby shower, so the TV was all mine and ready for my assistant coach and my nephew, me the Macaroni Man. (See MY NEPHEW THE MACARONI MAN
8 Apr 2006)

For two weeks I prepped for this day, reading the rosters and stats of the players on both the Jets and Mets. Figuring out the strategies of both the gridiron and the diamond, bunt or punt. Yes, I was ready! Unfortunately, my teams weren’t.

My Mets were suppose clinch their division, which would lead them to the NLC Series, then vanquish their foes and trounce the hated Yankees in the World Series, with a win yesterday. My Jets, with a win over New England, would take control of the Eastern Division and rule for the rest of the year, then SUPERBOWL!

There is a fellow named Patrick Holland, a really nice chap with a bad habit and a keen mind. His bad habit is he’s a Yankees fanatic; his keen mind put into prospective the NY Mets and what METS stands for over the years. (My Entire Team Sucks) which has been pretty accurate until I thought, this year when all would change. They should name the team the NY Hoovers, because yesterday they did suck. The manager Willies Randolph looked like he was at the ballpark because someone gave him a free pass. He even got to sit with the ballplayers. Putting in one bum after another, with a lot of his stars on the bench, they get shut out by the mediocre Pirates from Pissburg. He was giving me the Willies.

The Jets on the other hand came out looking like flower girls at a wedding for two lesbians. They stunk, causing me to have trouble holding my fried chicken down, which by the way was as bad as the Jets. Their head coach, Eric Mangia learned all his football at the New England Patriots buffet table, and the team played like a bunch of green canolis in the first half. They staged a comeback, but it was not enough. They should not comeback, but go away.

Being an armchair quarterback is not easy. There is a lot of prep one must do to be successful: beer or Jack Daniels, chips or tacos, fried chicken or meatball heroes? All these questions have to be worked out one hour prior to game time or else you can make some bad decisions that may even agree with the head coach. So after all this preparation, conferencing with the Macaroni Man, the reading and analysis, we lose twice!

I tried to get help, going to a Sports Psychiatrist thinking he could cure my addiction to the two teams, but when I walked into his office he was wearing a Jets helmet and had his face painted orange and blue, mumbling something about the “New, New York Islanders!”

God, somebody help me!