Red Sox-Yankees Rivalry -- Add Two Tablespoons Of Spice
- Wednesday, August 11, 2010 12:39 PM
- Written By: Andy Wasif
Growing up the son of a milkman and C.I.A. operative/P.T.A. treasurer mom in suburban Boston, I remember going to Fenway Park and seeing the lettering on the padded wall behind home plate that read, “No Pepper.”
Today, it’s gone, but there’s no truer statement to reflect the current state of what is frequently referred to as “the greatest rivalry in sports” and what is less frequently referred to as “so boring, I would rather watch a bird pick mites out of his feathers than tune in.” But the prevailing mindset may be shifting.
The Red Sox-Yankees rivalry needs spice! There’s no pepper, nor is there paprika, oregano, parsley, sage, rosemary, and there’s definitely no thyme.
But you know what they say, there’s no thyme like the present. [Ahem] You’ll graciously excuse my horrendous pun. Thank you.
There’s no time like the present to fix this. We know of the history and its explosive elements between the two teams, and subsequently their fans, but it quickly morphs into ancient history. And baseball is about entertaining people, correct? Unfortunately, the baseball season is so long, they’ve run out of story lines and we've become nonplussed with much of what we see.
It’s like the news. They’ve got to come up with stuff every day, which is why news bureaus send employees out from time to time to start fires or kidnap a baby or something like that.
Baseball needs to start manufacturing some excitement. Like the WWE (or the NBA) writing its own material, so, too, should baseball. In fact, why not hire their writers for a season or two to get you going?
Imagine a scenario where at one moment during the All-Star game, Derek Jeter and Dustin Pedroia are turning double plays together. They're high-fiving like best pals impressed by their grace and synchronicity.
Then, all of sudden, the next moment, when Pedey suddenly notices that Jeter’s getting more applause than he is, his jealousy takes over. The next time Jeter stands at the bag to turn two, instead of a lightly tossed ball right into his glove, he gets a rocket fired at his head knocking him out. He comes to with the diminutive Red Sox second baseman on top of him unleashing a fury of lefts and rights to his noggin as the crowd counts them out, “... SIX ... SEVEN ... EIGHT ...” as a couple of umpires stand harmlessly by pleading with the him to stop.
That, my friends, would get the rivalry started again.
Oh, and he could have like a signature finishing move where he puts a Yankee in a headlock and holds one of his rank workout T-shirts in his face until the guy turns green. He could call it “The Green Monster.”
The whole issue speaks to the flaws of the unbalanced schedule and interleague play. Back in the old days, the teams met each other a uniformed four times, for three games at a clip (barring the ol’ twi-night doubleheader). Twice at home, twice away; twice before the All-Star game, twice after. That's how it should be.
Either go with 12 games a year or 162 with no in between.
If you have the two teams face each other 162 times a year, they’ll start to hate the way A-Rod adjusts his batting gloves or Papi’s spitting will start to make their stomachs crawl or just Posada’s ears will piss them off. There will be blood.
Brandon Phillips has the right idea. He hates the Cardinals. I mean, really hates the Cardinals. You can just tell he does by the way he tells you he does.
However, it really doesn’t carry much past that. Because it’s the Cardinals. Their fans are so nice, they’ll probably offer to take Phillips out on the town to show him the amenities of their city.
The fans aren’t going to get into it. And Cincinnati doesn’t even have its own airport. It’s in Kentucky. That’s not going to be good for a rivalry. No one wants to fly into a different state just to cross the state line to go torment and harass Reds fans.
Boston fans used to believe that Yankees fans would shut their collective holes if the Red Sox won. Well, they did, and it didn’t happen. Now they’re resigned to living with them like some ingrown toenail that hurts when they walk.
And Yankees fans, well, they really haven’t changed. They’ve just ratcheted up the murder of Red Sox fans in the last decade from zero to two. So don’t mess with them.
But that’s off the field. We need to get that kind of stuff on the field. (Um, not the murder as that is wrong in most circumstances pertaining to sports.)
We need to get back to the old days. Carlton Fisk didn’t need a reason to beat the crap out of
Thurman Munson. He just needed an opportunity. Pedro Martinez probably would’ve thrown Don Zimmer down after the game in the street if he didn’t get a chance on the field.
Remember when Clemens threw a ball up by Manny’s head and Manny shouted some things to him while pointing and approaching the mound? We need that type of emotion; almost an unnatural level of emotion.
I’m just spinning here, but what if we introduced some sort of synthetically-engineered substance that causes flashes of anger along with enhanced athletic performance?
Nah! That’s just crazy talk.
Maybe add one Pakistani player to one team and an Indian player on the other. Those countries hate each other so that might start some hate. Or add a kid. When a sitcom starts to fail, they always add a kid which makes it – er ... fail faster. (OK, forget the kid.)
How about if the Red Sox name former pitcher Bill "Spaceman" Lee their manager and the Yankees can hire Graig Nettles to be their manager? “Spaceman” hates the Yankees. And he reportedly carries a baseball card of Nettles in his back pocket so the former Yankees hot corner attendant is constantly kissing his rear end. Nettles, by the way, wasn’t waiting for any invitation to slam Lee to the ground damaging his pitching shoulder. It’s just the way it was back then.
Sure, it could be cyclical, but do we really want to wait another 20 years to see an on-field battle? What would we tune in for? Baseball? Ha! Get serious.
Dustin Pedroia, what do you think?
“Let me tell you somethin’, Wasif! All the fans in all the bars in all the towns of Red Sox Nation are lookin’ for me to take out the Evil Empire. And that’s what I’ve been thinkin’ about for a long time. And you know what I’m gonna do? DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GONNA DO?! I’m gonna unleash a double play combination of rights and lefts on those little pathetic pansies. Whatcha gonna do, New York Yankees, when the Green Monster comes crashing down on you?!”
Now that's some spice.
