FLUSHING, NY – Yours truly has never been good at letting things go… other his now soft-n-saggy body. Time does not heal all wounds. So, here I am still loathing the Los Angeles Dodgers of Brooklyn, despite them leaving our beloved NYC gutted in the gutter, decades before I was even born. For me, this Mets vs Dodgers “Blood War” rages on, continued in today’s Met-inee. The result won’t matter, however, as thing CANNOT END. It musn’t end. Ever. Let’s discuss.
Why call it a “Blood War?”
Very simply, the Dodgers are one of two fathers for the Mets. Yes, long before Modern Family had us
ogling Sophia Vergara laughing at their real/awkward situations, the Amazins had two daddies: the aforementioned/hated Dodgers and the despised NY Giants. The Mets, you see, along with all their fans, were orphans and orphaned, respectively, by these two runaways, in the dark of the night. You may recall, it was May 28, 1957.
Curse of O’Malley
Walter O’Malley, one of the above “fathers,” was the architect of baseball’s blatant stealing home, right up there with Rickey Henderson, if you will. Jackie Robinson doesn’t count because he was, after all, a fecking Dodger. Yet here we are, as per lifelong Dodgers fan Fred Wilpon, left with a replica of Ebbet’s field AND the Jackie Robinson Rotunda! One might curse O’Malley for this curse! BUT… the curse is on him. He’ll never win another World Series outside of the tainted COVID championship. That, Ladies and Germs, is the Curse of O’Malley. Set your watches to it.
I’ll leave with that and this bit of wisdom: Back-up your computer and next time remember that Buddy Diaz is on vacation in Puerto Rico and therefore not posting today!