Angry Ward Wednesday: No Madness, No Exhibition Baseball, No Problem

PALM BEACH, FL – I’m back at the scene of the crime, so to speak. A little over a year ago, my family came down here for a week-long Spring Break vacation that turned into a two-and-a-half month, let’s abandon our regular lives on the side of the road, pandemic odyssey. I had my misgivings about returning to this no-longer-a-battleground state, but kicking back on an almost empty beach today helped assuage any remaining second thoughts. Here’s what’s up.

March Gladness. Last week, I mentioned that I was NOT going to participate in any March Madness pools this year, and boy am I ever happy with that decision. I’m fairly certain I would have picked Illinois to win it all, and I know I would have had Michigan (the only stinking Big 10 team left) getting the old heave-ho before the Sweet 16. Not that I care, but this tournament certainly looks like Gonzaga’s to lose, with Baylor maybe standing in the way. Like everyone else, I’ll probably pull for Loyola of Chicago and their adorable penguin mascot. I wonder if she taught Jake and Elwood?

Spend Your Stimulus at Spring Training. I was really hoping to catch the Mets/Astros Spring Training game with my brother (who is down here on a completely separate trip) on Monday, but it didn’t work out. Let me explain. There were tickets available, but you had to buy a “pod” of four. Despite Goofball Gov Ron DeSantis (whose name sounds like a utility infielder that had a cup of coffee with the Expos) encouraging stupidity, the Astros are still trying to keep crowds to a minimum. It probably helps with hearing garbage can banging. Anyway, I went online on game day and found a pod of four for $50. That sounded reasonable enough, and I was ready to pull the trigger until I proceeded to checkout to find that it was $50 per seat. I am sorry, but I am not paying 200 smackers to watch a bunch of guys wearing numbers like 68 and 91. Save that sh!t for some other sucker. I have officially transitioned into my Dad when it comes to what certain things are actually worth, and I’m okay with that. I loved my Dad. I just can’t bring myself to shell out $50 for exhibition baseball when I spent a whole lot less over the years seeing some of the best live music ever.

Anyway, hopefully another beach day tomorrow… and the next day… and the day after that. Hope this finds everyone in the MTMetropolitan universe in good spirits and health. A special shout out to Replacement Matt (Dude). I’m a big fan, especially when it comes to our shared sense of humor towards Management. Safe travels home to my big bro as well.

Come back tomorrow for Buddy Diaz. I think he’s still writing for this site. He might’ve gotten traded for Bo Diaz. Who knows? I really haven’t been paying too much attention.


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About Angry Ward 737 Articles
Angry Ward, who has admirers at the New York Times, is the quintessential angry sports fan but for 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 Nancy Pelosi embraces Mitch McConnell at charity events. And while his Vikings only tease him with success, his Golden State Warriors actually win these days. A-Dubya is MTM's longest-tenured indentured servant, its Larry David and quite simply, "The Franchise." (Junoir Blaber disputes this). Vent, curse and giggle with him on Angry Ward Wednesdays.