Friday, April 27, 2007

postcard #3 or an open letter to the yankees

i really think that something's got to be done with this societal notion that the person who works the most wins. it's inane. clearly warped. people who take minimal vacation are applauded and it seems like whoever has the least amount of personal life wins.

i bring this up because kim and i went to the yankees game last night - we left the office at 5:45 pm, which isn't early since we're in work at 9:00 am. you would have thought that we'd tied people up in their offices and were jumping into the elevators with fax machines and confidential files under our arms. someone honestly snorted at me as i waited for the elevator with a 'wow. cutting out early, butler, aren't we?' i believe, you cretins, that i signed on for this insufferable job at 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. honestly. HONESTLY.

so kim and i are thinking 'baseball, the new pitching prospect phil hughes on the mound, beer, hot dogs, hot damn it's a night game.' well. well, yankees. thanks so much for making yesterday just another winner of a thursday. now, i'm not one of these yankees fans that hates them when they're losing and loves them only when they're winning. they're my boys in pinstripes. they're my yankees. i was born and raised watching these guys. at a wedding 4 years ago, i impressed a number of not-available men with my ability to recite the line-up for 1986. in fact, during a particularly un-responsive inning last night, kim turned to me and with a sigh said 'remember chuck knoblauch?'

yes, yes i do, kim. and so i give you my open letter to the yankees:

dear yankees,

you know i love you. i still have my butch weiniger baseball card in a photo album. i've had sex dreams about scott brosius [3 of which have taken place on the 4 train, you tell me]. i named my first pet gehrig [poor gerbil died within a week] and my second one babe [who lived quite well, especially after we got babe a friend, who my brother named mickey]. i feel at home in your stadium, i listen to you on the radio, i cry when i see replays of paul o'neill's last game on the yes network.

that being said, what in the world could possess you boys to play like a bunch of drunken 8 year olds at a pinata festival? get your heads in the game. i am not blaming hughes, in fact, nobody should blame him - poor kid's 20 years old and your first time out on the mound at yankee stadium is a pants-pooping one. [we need to grow some prospects.] but what are the rest of you doing? come on! you're the new york bleeding yankees! this is awesome! this is go time! this is BASEBALL for crying out loud.

i'm sad. you're disappointing me. not because you're losing [and that you are] but because it appears that you're going out there without any heart. you've got to have heart, boys.

also, 8 bucks for a miller light makes me nauseous. i'm buying them and i'm drinking them, but please.

love,
bex butler

ps jorge? hola. jorge. seriously, dude. i know you've got it in you. seriously.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

you're right about the work thing...i can't lie, i'm still sort of bitter. come on, i've put SO MUCH EXTRA TIME into work these past few weeks and i LOVE my job, so please, forgive me for leaving "early" 1 day.

also, come on jorge, seriously. i know you and i have a love/hate relationship, but let's get moving. love you! mean it!