“New York, New York, it’s a helluva town. The Rangers are up and the Wilpons are clowns. Jets fans pissed at picks in the first round. New York, New Yoooork, it’s a helluva a town!”
Bronx, NY – And it really is! Never a shortage of things going on around this bustling burg. Here’s just a sampling.
Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-That’s Alderson, Folks! In case you missed it, late last week a Mets staffer mistakenly sent all of General Manager Sandy Alderson’s credit card info (security codes, expiration dates, etc.) to just about everyone in the New York press corps. By Mets standards, this was nothing more than a very minor brain fart, like Vince Coleman chucking a firecracker out his car window in the Dodgers Stadium parking lot. The good news is, hardly anyone in the New York press corps reads (except for Mike Vaccaro, who visits this site religiously). The better news? Alderson’s Mets credit card has a $1000 limit. So, no harm, no foul.
Mike’D Up. Speaking of Mikes, it was pretty hilarious how hot under the collar local sports radio gasbag Mike Francesa was about Mets players and personnel not coming on his show during the beginning of the most recent subway series. For that matter he was also pissed off about certain rules and regulations the Yankees were imposing on their players and execs visiting his show as well. Francesa came off as a kid whose friends finally noticed what a jerk he was and decided to ditch him. I’m not one of those friends. I will never desert him. Though I do not listen to him regularly (by any stretch), I would absolutely miss him if he weren’t around anymore. I learned my lesson with Cosell. Stick around, Mikey, you big Diet Coke drinkin’ know-it-all, you.
The Fleet’s In. After a one-year hiatus, Fleet Week is back in NYC, which means the streets of Gotham will soon be overflowing with seaman. Well, more so than usual. There’s something very special about horny sailors and slutty Big Apple broads crashing into each other like particles in some sort of super-sleazy springtime pheromone generator. From Bronx Bimbos to Flushing floozies to unemployed Knicks City Dancers, suave swabbies will have plenty to choose from this week. Also, if you’re one of those people who has a “Support Our Troops” magnet on the back of your car, it’s time to put up or shut up. Buy these guys tickets to the game. Buy them beers. And, if you’re not going to sleep with them yourself, at least let them use that apartment over your garage for their hook-ups. It’s your patriotic duty.
Knick News? I have not watched a first-run episode of The Simpsons in well over a decade yet, apparently, they’re still getting made. I kinda feel the same way about the Knicks. They haven’t been relevant in ages but that doesn’t stop them from trudging forward in an attempt to generate news in any way possible. The latest being the hiring of Phil Jackson, and his epic failure to hire Steve Kerr as New York’s next head coach. At this point the Knicks need to yield the stage to the New York Rangers and maybe secretly hire a new coach in August and unveil him (or her, maybe?) the opening night of next season. And then we can all pray that it’s Isiah, just for the laughs it will generate.
Keeping Up Appearances. Finally, what you’ve all been waiting for, a word about grooming and fashion. First off, is the only reason Josh Satin is on the Mets because David Wright was feeling self conscious about his eyebrows? Secondly, Keith Hernandez really needs to grow back the stache. He’s just not as Keith without it. Finally, the alternative baseball uniform epidemic reached Defcon 1 last week when the Yankees (of all teams) wore white-brimmed baseball caps in a game against the Mets. When the New York Yankees start screwing with their uniforms, it’s over. And don’t talk to me about doing it for charity. You guys have more money than God. You want to do something for charity? Write a check. As Mad Dog Russo would say, bad job.
Speaking of Mad Dog, come back tomorrow for another side-splitting Meet The Matts Radio Podcast.
