This? THIS is the tradition you bothered to carry over?

So while the Yankees see no problem pissing all over their fans, pissing all over their history, and pissing all over the greatest cathedral the sporting world ever knew, they apparently have a problem with their fans pissing all over their shiny new urinals, at least while one of the worst renditions of any song ever recorded is being blasted over the Fan Re-Education System.

I refer, of course, to the playing of "God Bless America," as recored by Kate Smith, during the 7th inning stretch, which is easily the one tradition from the Stadium I would not have missed if they hadn't brought it over to the Interactive Yankeetainment Experience.

And yet, in an impressive display of failing to appreciate the irony of the situation, some geniuses with badges decided to teach one fan the value of the freedom he was supposed to be singing about by proving that he wasn't even free to not sing about it if he didn't feel like it. Let's say that again, slowly, for those of you who think it makes sense:

(a) It's a free country

(b) The Yankees want us to show our appreciation of (a) by blindly singing along with a 400 pound dead woman while she asks God to bless our secular undertakings, thus devaluing both God and America.

(c) In a free country, one would theoretically be allowed to go to the bathroom during such a display as (b) if so inclined.

(d) If (c) is false, then (a) is false and (b) is all the more ridiculous.

(e) The "experts" who provide "security" at "Yankee Stadium"  believe (c) is false.

(f) Does anybody else see the irony here?

Look, I love my country as much as the next guy, provided that guy doesn't drive a pickup truck and insist on pronouncing it "Amurrica," in which case, he probably loves his country more than he loves anything besides Busch Light, and that's really none of my concern. But why should I have to engage in some hollow gesture to prove it? Why should anyone have to prove it at all? Does life here on planet Earth get one iota better or worse if I'm in the john while the Yankees continue to pretend to be the Philadelphia Flyers? I sincerely doubt it. If God is that petty, why are we asking for his blessing? If the notion of "freedom" is so flimsy that I'm not even allowed to make my own decision as to whether I feel like singing a song or hitting the head, then what good is a "free" country and why should anyone bother singing about it?

Oh, and to top it all off, they couldn't even be bothered to win the ball game. Thanks, Yanks.

On to visit the Tampans...or actually the Saint Petersburgers.

Michael Kay used to call Yankee Stadium (the real one) "The Home Office for Baseball." Of course, anyone who has followed the soap opera of the Yankee organization in the Boss's twilight years can see the irony: Home Office for Baseball or not, the Stadium (and for that matter the Interactive Yankeetainment Experience) hasn't been the home office for the Yankees for some time. That would be Legends...er...Steinbrenner Field and the surrounding compound, which the team no doubt flew over as they approached Tampa International Airport, holder of the the self-appointed title "America's Favorite Airport," last night.

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!