This morning I went to the supermarket to get a few things for dinner tonight and as I was on the checkout counter to pay, the lady taking the money made some comment about what I was buying (a joke) and the fellow behind me says: “For the Yankee game this afternoon?” “No said I, I’m looking forward to the Mets tonight.” Mr. big shot says: ”They ain’t goin’ nowhere without El Duque” “I’ll take my chances,” I said, and the lady says: “They’re both playing, what difference does it make?” Mr. Bigmouth says: “The Yanks will win, the Mets won’t.” With that comment he pats me on the back, while I wanted to pat him on the head with my fist.
Being how I always root for losers, I’m used to wanting to pat people on the head with my fist. Walking out of the supermarket feeling humble over a ball club is pretty silly, yet I feel humbled watching the Mets, Jets, and Islanders every year. Being a loser does not mean I’m a loser, just unlucky in my choice of teams. The Yankee fans can gloat, but I tried to watch the Yankees this very afternoon, and found even though they were losing at the time, and I hate them, I just couldn’t stand the boredom of it all.
HOW, IN THE NAME OF GOD, CAN ANYONE WATCH THOSE ROBOTS? There is nothing human about them, all you here are Derrick Jeter, and the most annoying phrase: “THE YANKEES WIN.” Never do you hear: “THE YANKEES WIN!”
The Mets are my kind of team, always drama, and surprise over a win, always a hardship to overcome, always trying to turn a clear, clean victory into a very close call.
When the Amazens lose a game, we Met fans wet our handkerchiefs and go on, when a Yankee lose occurs, the fans wet their pants and carry on.
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