As the team's plane dipped its wings in its usual salute to The Boss, George was overheard shouting "Damn kids! Get off my lawn!" before going back to sleep.
With those pleasantries out of the way, the real Clueless Joe and his boys, who fortunately play much better than they're managed, are on to the home of the AL Champion Tampa Bay Devil Rays...er...Rays. Pardon me while I finish vomiting at having written that sentence...
And we're back. By the way, let's take a moment to congratulate the three big-time sports teams who reside in Tampa and St. Petersburg. By their insistence on naming themselves after the body of water that separates their twin cities, they have succeeded, not in their intended purpose of proudly representing a whole region, but in making the rest of the country think the one town is called Tampa Bay, and all three teams play in it. It doesn't help matters, of course, that the St. Petersburg Times has slapped its name onto one of the two facilities in Tampa, having been beaten to the punch by Tropicana for the shot to name the one facility in St. Petersburg.
In other words, the sports scene the Yankees have landed in for the next three days is an unholy mess, and it's time to restore the natural order of things by putting the Devil Rays (yes, they're still the Devil Rays to me, dammit) back in their place. Let's do it!
No comments:
Post a Comment