To The Colors

Despite still feeling a bit detached without my other half around, I wound down tonight with a little walk to a nearby market, then a little cleaning up, some cooking and -- last but not least -- watching the Yankees. Since the HoB's inception coincided with the end of last season (we won't regurgitate the details of the 2004 postseason) and my father's hospital stay, I was very preoccupied with things other than baseball. And based on what seemed to be a relatively mediocre off-season for the Yankees, I hadn't really been jazzed about the looming baseball season.

Now that it's here, I'll admit I've been watching games with a bit less commitment than years prior. First, because my dad's not able to attend games at this point, I haven't had a "first game" to anticipate as I have in past seasons. We'll go back to the Stadium one of these days -- fairly soon, I'm guessing -- but until it's on the calendar and a reality, the Yankees might as well be playing in Witchita. Granted, I remember how green the field is, how electric being in Yankee Stadium feels, and how much fun I've had there, especially with my dad. We were there that night in 1996 when Jeffrey Mayer, a young fan, caught an otherwise routine fly ball to right field and turned a possible Yankee playoff loss to Baltimore into a win and the start of a dynasty. And the wave of fans pulsing and chanting as we were swept along with the throngs exiting the stadium that night is a memory I won't ever forget.

So back to my semi-apathy with regard to the Yankees thus far, it's mostly a result of knowing we're not heading to the Stadium any time soon. Also, since there was no hockey to follow, I got used to focusing on work and my other half rather than baseball (or any other sport) on television, which is completely cool with me.

The one thing I've noticed about the Yankees in the post Bob Watson era (or during the Brian Cashman era -- your choice) is that they're "recycled." By that I mean that 75% of the team is on its way down and a good third of the Yankees are former Yankees as well; Tino Martinez, Rey Sanchez, Mike Stanton...these are guys who have very little left in the tank. A bunch of others -- Tony Womack, Bubba Crosby and a half-assed assortment of mediocre plug-ins aren't going to get it done. The team is aging -- their pitching staff includes two 40+ pitchers, Randy Johnson and Kevin Brown, and an assortment of barely-competent arms. Basically, it's really not looking too good. By 1996, the Yankees had an assortment of youth, veterans, desire and work ethic; now the only guys who really embody those qualities are Derek Jeter and A-Rod, and baseball players -- like most athletes -- do not age well. So here's hoping Brian Cashman goes elsewhere and someone who has the onions to handle George Steinbrenner on a daily basis comes in, rebuilds the Yankees' depleted farm system, makes some intelligent trades, and stops plugging in has-beens, never weres and wishes they coulds. 'Nuff said.

Finally, there was an item in the NY Post a few days ago where Pamela Anderson, a card-carrying member of PETA, was criticizing Jennifer Lopez for wearing fur. Essentially, "Pammy" decided to give J-Lo some shit because people who wear fur are not "sophisticated" and are really "immature." This, coming from someone who wears platform heels to the pool, made money from a homemade porn video with her then-husband, Tommy Lee, changes her breast implants like most people change their sheets (weekly) and owes her celebrity to what's located below her shoulders and above her ankles. This is the female who made Kid Rock, Baywatch, Barb Wire and VIP national punchlines. While Jennifer Lopez is yet another walking cartoon character, like Pammy, at least she's made an effort to not come off as an inflatable doll. I just wish -- once -- that one's ability to express one's opinion was contingent on that person's ability to come off as something less than a total idiot.

Yes, that includes George W. Bush. Although I bet his approval rating would go up if he was married to Pammy. Just imagine the offspring...wind-up, single-digit IQs, huge boobs, and no redeeming societal value whatsoever.

I think I'd prefer to watch an hour's worth of music videos from Jenny "The Wedding Machine" From-The-Block.

Maybe.