Some folks will never forgive him for his Piazza-related tantrum, but this Paul Lukas bit nails everything that’s wrong with the current Mets regime (and what’s wrong is pretty much everything) in one succinct blast:
It’s all too much. The Bernazard thing, the vanilla stadium with the corporate name and the 37 price tiers, the GM who thinks it’s a good idea to call out a beat writer at a press conference, the bottomless pit of medical misdiagnoses — and I’m not even counting the on-field performance. I’m just talking about the most basic aspects of team ownership and stewardship. These guys aren’t just bad at it; they’re the definition of dysfunctional. If the Mets were their kid, Child Services would’ve whisked the team into foster care years ago.
Lousy way to say Happy Thanksgiving, but we’re Mets fans. We have to expect that our retro gravy will be lumpy and not really like the gravy we once knew and loved, and will cost more and get cold while we sit through a self-serving speech that’s stupefyingly inaccurate, and then we’ll choke on it and the family doctor will yell that we’re having a heart attack when even a half-blind resident could tell we aren’t and he’ll burn the crap out of us with those electric paddles, and while we’re recuperating and wondering what the hell happened, the guests we were told about will arrive but they won’t be young, interesting guests, they’ll be old, shuffling guests, and Mom will beam while looking a little desperate and say that everything will be great now, because they’ve got a lot of experience at Thanksgiving.
I’ll be in my room hiding. You can have my yams.
I yam wot I yam and tha's all wot I yam…
Anyway, to all my FAFIF friends:
Have a marvelous and safe Thanksgiving. Enjoy your bird, even if it's tofurkey.
Well said.
Happy Freakin' Thanksgiving!
Uni Watch, FTL, in my humble opinion.
Also featured in this post is the following:
And so, Fred and Jeff, in the spirit of the holiday season, I send you the following Thanksgiving wishes: I hope you gag on your turkey, spill cranberry sauce on your suits, and get gravy stains on your ties. I hope your wine is corked, your mashed potatoes lumpy, and your pumpkin pie spoiled. I hope your staff quits at the last moment and spends the day peppering you with crank calls from “me, your old pal Bernie Madoff, don’t you remember?” Then I hope you get the runs afterward. The two of you deserve nothing less.
I hope you gag on your turkey? I hope you get the runs? What is this 3rd grade? This was an over-the-top post that I don't think added anything new (complaining about the Mets and their follies isn't exactly groundbreaking at this point) and at worst personally attacked the Wilpons, 2 men who aren't criminals and don't deserve the tongue-lashing Lukas gave them. FTL FTL FTL, grow up Paul Lukas.
Yeah, I thought that went too far — we all need editors, or failing that to self-edit a little more. But thought the part I quoted was searingly on-point.