Beat On that Red Sox Mickey Mouse All You Want, Anaheimans...

Those futile swings won't bring your prop-board shantytown any closer to being an actual city (like, say...the one from which your baseball team embarrassingly pretends to be).

[OC Register via Deadspin]

Yankees Fans Memorialize Home Stadium by Acknowledging Superiority of Red Sox

Tuesday's Major League Baseball All-Star Game was a monumental event for several reasons. First and foremost, it took place at Yankee Stadium, an adamantine landmark of immeasurable significance that is about to be wiped off the face off the earth so the Steinbrenners (who totally care about baseball history and all that crap) can make a few extra bucks a year from its replacement venue. The last hurrah of the House That Ruth Built was given due respect in the form of the largest collection of Major League Hall-of-Famers ever assembled on one field (a collection that was conspicuously absent of Red Sox hats, even on the head of Wade Boggs--who either forgot what uniform is on his Hall of Fame plaque or is an ass-kissing fraidy cat). As if that weren't enough, the contest itself turned out to be the longest All-Star Game in history, lasting 15 solid innings of terrible baserunning.

During the pregame ceremony, the Yankees-fan-dominated crowd booed their tiny black hearts out at each and every current member of the Boston Red Sox that was announced (and there was a lot of booing to be done, as the Red Sox were represented seven strong, more than any other team in the American League). This was neither significant nor surprising on its own...but it would prove to be integral in relation to the astonishing, most historic moment of the night--if not in the entire chronology of professional sports--which didn't take place until long after the game was underway.

In the top of the eighth inning, with the score tied 2-2 (the American League's runs having just come in the seventh courtesy of one game-tying swing by Boston's J.D. Drew), the Boston Red Sox' Jonathan Papelbon took the mound. When he surrendered a base hit to Miguel Tejada, I naturally expected cheers to emanate from my television...but the response I heard was, at best, tepid--negative, if anything. After Papelbon had struck out Dan Uggla and was facing Adrian Gonzalez, Tejada made a run for second base. Dioner Navarro's throw from the plate was laughingly off the mark, allowing Tejada to easily advance to third by the time the ball was corralled in right field. I thought for sure that the crowd would react to such an unfortunate turn of events thrust upon their most hated rivals' star closer with a cacophony of gratification...but, this time, they very clearly booed.

I couldn't believe my ears. Yes, the Yankees were represented on the American League team, but the only thing on the line was home field advantage in the World Series--a contest that the New York Yankees hadn't appeared in since 2003, won since the previous century, and were widely agreed upon to not be appearing in for many, many years into the foreseeable future. So what the hell were the Yankees fans upset about?

It wasn't until Gonzalez hit a sacrifice fly that gave the National League a 3-2 lead--an occurrence to which the crowd again responded with boos--that the revelation struck me:

The Yankees fans wanted the American League to win because they wanted the Red Sox to have home field advantage in the World Series.

As a Red Sox fan who came of age during an era when the team was a constant punchline for the New York Yankees, I was moved beyond words by this selfless display of concession by Yankees fans--made, at all times, during the last All-Star Game that will ever be played at the one true Yankee Stadium (a game that the American League eventually won, of course, on the shoulders of MVP J.D. Drew)--and I will never forget it.

A couple of decades from now, when the perennial World Series contender Boston Red Sox' chief rivals are the Tampa Bay Shade or the Los Angeles Red Sox or the Arctic Ocean Zombie Polar Bears, should I find myself in the presence of someone speaking ill of the New York Yankees--a franchise which will have long since folded--I will remind him of the 2008 All-Star Game, and suggest that he be a little bit more respectful.

And if he's a robot and tries to fight me, I will disable him with advanced anti-robot Space Karate.

Red Sox Bandwagon Extends to Major League Players

I would happily volunteer to be Madonna's personal sponge bather for eternity before I would even dream of dreaming of accidentally undoing the Boston Red Sox' historic World Series victory in 2004 (or, for that matter, their subsequent 2007 championship and any more that may take place in my lifetime)...but that's not to say that my formerly-famous-for-failing team's rise to dominance in the first decade of the 21st century has come without a personal toll: mainly, the bandwagon fans. They wear pink hats, they couldn't spell "Yastrzemski" if their lives depended on it, and--as any supporter of any Major League Baseball team whose home park is not located on Yawkey Way will bitterly attest to--they are everywhere.

Having reluctantly accepted, to the best of my ability, these deplorable peoples' putrid existence as a necessary downside of the excellence of the modern-era Red Sox, I am nonetheless dumbfounded to have discovered that the Boston-bandwagon culture has grown so powerful that it has actually permeated the players in the American League.

Does David Ortiz deserve a spot on the 2008 MLB All-Star team, even though he's currently on the DL? Without question. Same goes for Manny Ramirez, even though he's as likely to participate in the event as he is to abruptly retire and take a job as a hot dog vendor at Yankee Stadium--which is to say, there's a 50/50 chance. Dustin Pedroia and Kevin Youkilis each embody the ideal of a player whose tireless dedication enhances his talent; both of them deserve to be All-Stars as much as--if not more than--any household name. Those are the four Boston Red Sox who were voted as starters on the 2008 AL squad, and they were selected by the fans.

Fan voting ended last Wednesday, and the remainder of the selections were made by the players in each league. In the American League, three more Red Sox were added to the All-Star roster, including closer Jonathan Papelbon--all but a lock to begin with--and outfielder J.D. Drew--a more questionable choice, though he did raise his game significantly after Ortiz went down. I wouldn't have thought twice about the matter (it's possible that in place of this post would have been a rant against the raw deals Jacoby Ellsbury, Josh Beckett and Mike Lowell received) were it not for the third and final Red Sox voted to the 2008 All-Star team by his fellow players throughout the league:

Catcher Jason Varitek, who--at the time of this writing--is batting .219 with 7 home runs and 27 RBI.

You've shown your hand, Major League Baseball players. I love Jason Varitek and I hope that he keeps playing for the Red Sox until both of his knees explode, but I can state without hesitation that the man has no business on the All-Star team this year. Try as you might to defend your decision by referring to Varitek's less tangible "leadership" qualities and how he "contributes to wins even when he's not hitting", the underlying message is loud and clear: All of you are only pretending to like Jason Varitek because he plays for a winning team, and everybody loves a winner whether or not they know anything about them.

Care to dispute that charge? Without Googling, (1) name Jerry Remy's hometown, (2) name the Red Sox pitcher who would have been the 1986 World Series MVP (hint: it's not Roger Clemens), and (3) acknowledge the fact that Fever Pitch is a shit movie...then maybe we can talk.

After you get rid of that pink hat.