Angry Ward Wednesday: NF-HELL, The Popes Peeps, Sports Atonement

12 Comments

Cue the sad trombone.

BRONX, NY – Happy first day of autumn! My favorite time of year. Soon the leaves will be dropping like so many NFL superstars. Baseball season is winding down as the Mets hang on for dear life and the Yankees do their part to ensure that they’ll meet, and lose to, the Houston Astros in the first round. NHL teams are gearing up for their season too. You can bet Patrick Kane’s got his blades rapier sharp. And, whaddaya know, it’s Yom Kippur. There’s a lot going on. Need I write about any of it? I do? *sigh* Okay.

Not For Long. The Giants are out of the gate fast again this year, screwing themselves out of not one, but two sure wins. And yet, at 0-2 they are better off than most. The current spate of injuries in the NFL, particularly to big names, is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Tony Romo, Dez Bryant, DeSean Jackson, Drew Brees, Terrell Suggs, Jordy Nelson, Kelvin Benjamin, Victor Cruz, Jay Cutler…. Wait a sec, did I say Jay Cutler? Ha! Just kidding, he’s not a big name. Anyway, the Jets are 2-0 and their alcoholic fans feel as though they’ve died and gone to vehicular manslaughter heaven. It’s all very interesting, except that it really isn’t.

Pope Frankie. As @CheesyBruin pointed out on Sunday, Pope Francis is visiting this week and all of the major sports are sending their most pious reps reps to greet the Catholic Church’s Sinatra. That means Priest Holmes, Bishop Sankey, and Irv Cross will be representing for the NFL. Likewise, Jesus Alou, Jesus Montero, and Ivan de Jesus, along with entire rosters of Cardinals, Angels, and Padres for baseball. Out of respect, the NHL has asked David Puddy and the NJ Devils to stay home. And basketball is sending only one rep, God Shammgod, and I have no idea what to make of that.

Yom Perignon. The champagne of Jewish holidays is upon us, except it’s not that kinda holiday. But, make no mistake, this is a biggie. It’s a time for reflection, atonement, and prayer. There’s also fasting and then the stuffing once again of faces. But let’s get back to atonement for a sec. I sincerely hope that some of our good friends in MtM-ville are taking this part seriously. For Cookie, this is a time to ask forgiveness and at long last turn the page on her Yankee-loving ways. Fluffy the Narwhal? You sir, are turbo menschy. No one is that nice! Atone at once. As for Big Al Sternberg, I am fairly sure he is atone-deaf. But he can make amends by tracking down Jeff Wilpon and giving him a swirly in the handicap stalls on the Pepsi Porch.

yomkippur

But seriously, is it me or is this week in New York like terrorist fantasy camp? The Pope, Yom Kippur, the U.N. is in session, and then Beyonce is playing Central Park on Saturday. WTF??? I mean, is there anything else we can host while we’re at it? How about we bump the marathon up? Sheesh! As always, I blame Mayor De Blasio. De Blasio!!!!

OK, I’m done. Come back tomorrow… if there is a tomorrow.

Facebook Comments
Share Button

Filed in: Angry Ward
Tagged with:

About the Author ()

Wednesday: Angry Ward, who has admirers at the NY Times, is the quintessential angry sports fan but one exception... he's flat-out funny. And the angrier he gets, the more amusing his work becomes. Psychiatrists say, "Angry Ward's 'anger' is a direct result of "Bronx/Mets syndrome: growing up in the Bronx as a Mets fan." As if that weren't enough, his Minnesota North Stars abandoned him for Dallas, forcing him to embrace The Wild the way conservatives embrace Mitt Romney. While the Vikings tease him incessantly with flirtations of success, the Golden State Warriors, "Don't have a enough short, white angry guys but I don't dislike them... that much." A-Dubya is MTM's longest-tenured indentured servant, its Larry David and quite simply, The Franchise.

Back to Top