Wasif's World

Hello, New York ... wait, wait, don’t close this window! I just wanted to talk to you for a moment.

I know you’re going through a rough patch right now and the last thing you want is a Boston fan rubbing it in. But I’m not here for that. Really! (There will be plenty of time for that in the coming months.)

This is more a time for me to extend to you my deepest sympathies. I’m from Boston. We’ve been there. We’ve felt the sting of rejection, of failure, of the ship leaving the port without us. So we can relate to your current situation.

It is certainly an interesting twist. Call it fate, a deviation from the standard, climate change, whatever; it’s not something we’re used to seeing.

The Yankees lost out on a player, who took less money to go somewhere else. Usually an agent will use other teams to drive up the price on New York! The Yankees are usually the last one an agent calls. In this case, the phone rang almost two hours away, in the home of the Liberty Bell.

So you lost out on Cliff Lee. The San Francisco weak-hitting Giants shelled him. You don’t need that kind of pitcher. Save your money. Heck, we’ve all seen CC Sabathia pitch on three-days rest. Just have him do it all season. (For what he gets paid, you should pitch him on no days rest.)

I mean, that was pretty harsh, when Lee chose tens of millions of dollars less to not sign with you. The nerve of that guy! He thought your fans were worse than Philly fans. That’s outlandish! (Most reasonable people just have you two at a statistical dead heat.)

Think of that for a moment! To say that Yankees fans are thugs and then sign with Philly fans?! (Apparently, he’s never been immobilized by a neck injury and booed for holding up the game.) Word is his wife didn’t like your fans and the way they treated her; all for a little spit and bile. Some people can be so sensitive.

And even those New Yorkers who are not necessarily Yankees fans have been affected by this news. Mets fans, I know you had been hoping for winning the division sometime again this decade, but well, success is overrated. Lots of pressure comes with it. Remember the flack you took when you blew that division lead in September a couple of years ago. Now, when you get mathematically eliminated in June, no one bothers you. That’s the life! Just think extra long vacations.

There are those who hoped a “Cliff-Lee-to-the-Bronx” report would put a sheen (Martin, not Charlie) on an otherwise tarnished outlook for the rest of the city’s teams, such as the Jets. They started out strong, but now are so lacking that they need their strength coach to help out on special teams. And Mark Sanchize is back to being an almost was.

But Rex Ryan’s good for you. He’s brash, he’s conceited, and he promotes a tough, no-nonsense attitude. It’s just that his team wears the Jets uniform. That thing works like “the Mask” did in that Jim Carrey movie (“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”), only in reverse. Any incredible things you may do are dulled by futility.

Oh, and to you Knickerbocker backers, Carmelo is coming ... maybe, someday. For now, you’ve got Amar’e and the team has won seven in a row (at press time, though that was sure to come to an end at the hands of Boston on Wednesday evening).

Hey, let’s not forget about the New York (football) Giants who still have a shot at the Super Bowl, just as long as Eli Manning doesn’t try to run for a first down.

Now might be a good time to start following one of the lesser sports leagues. There are the New York Red Bulls (even though they’re in New Jersey), the WNBA’s entry, the New York Liberty, and the New York Titans of the National Lacrosse League. They are all very, very competitive in their respective –- what’s that? ... oh, the Titans moved to Orlando? ... well, they sucked anyway, right? Good riddance to bad rubbish.

The point is that this isn’t the end of the world. The Yankees will still make the playoffs (a 70/30 chance), you’ll still get chastised for your indignant and entitled attitude, people will still annoy you by deriding your team’s overspending, and you’ll still berate and verbally abuse visiting player’s wives when they sit nearby. Nothing really has changed ... well, except your odds of winning a World Series before the Red Sox and Phillies do. That hope is pretty much deep in the sewers of Manhattan.

Chins up, New Yorkers. Just think happy thoughts and try to put that lump of coal to good use. Happy Holidays!

Baseball enters its final phase – the pennant race. Now that the trading deadline has come and gone marking an end to all trades (except the ones that happen after the trading deadline), we can focus on the matter at hand – watching the Phillies and Yankees make it to the World Series.

I mean, seriously, is there any doubt of that? Oh, right, the Padres are going to “shock the world.” First of all, the local news barely covers that team, how is the world ever going to hear about it? Secondly, the team scores less than Cliff Clavin did (yet still more than the Dodgers).

Oh, but the Braves have some good, young talent.

Oh, but the Braves have some good, young talent. That’s me mocking you in my high-pitched italic font. You’re so naïve, it’s really quite adorable.

We all knew that only six teams had a chance to win entering this year. It’s how you can tell the difference between baseball and basketball; one is built for six teams to have a chance to win and the other only has four potential winners on a yearly basis. (Oh, that and one sport has more black people.)

Even those odds were too great for the big market juggernauts in New York and Philly. They had to narrow the playing field. The Phillies were a mess earlier which is the only reason other teams are still in it. And they got rid of Cliff Lee! If they had him, they’d have sown it up by now, which is why they picked up Roy Harvey Oswalt. (His middle name’s not “Harvey,” but doesn’t it feel like it should be in there?) They didn’t like having to work so hard.

Now they have Cole Hamels, who was the only lefty better than Lee until last year, and is an ace on most other teams; they have Roy Halladay who has already thrown one perfect game this year; and now, they have Oswalt who pitched the Astros into the World Series by himself in 2005. Where’s the challenge in that?

Then we have the Yankees. As if their lineup wasn’t enough to support their pitching staff (they did win the World Series last year, y’know), then they upgraded in centerfield, DH, and added more pitching.

They lost a few games and decided they needed to upgrade even further. So they got Lance Berkman. Naturally. And Kerry Wood. Of course. And Austin Kearns. Why not? The All-Star team didn’t have as many big name players as the Yankees do.

The Yankees hit the deadline like Paris Hilton hits the mall. “I want one of those and get me one of those and I’ll take ten of those ... and I want another dog to have something in my Milan estate when I visit.”

Oh, but their middle relief is “suspect.” Who cares? In October, your middle relief is Andy Pettitte and Javier Vasquez.

The Red Sox are among the six who go into each year with a shot at the crown, but have been so decimated by injury that they only have the fifth best record in the league right now. Imagine if they had more than five regulars among their starting nine and more than two pitchers healthy for the entire season.

Hey, what about the Angels? They added Dan Haren.

Again, that’s adorable. And the Dodgers got Scott Podsednik. Well, at least he can show them his ring, cuz they sure as heck aren’t getting ones of their own.

Can we just cut to the chase here? C’mon, Selig, start the World Series now. The NFL has started training camp and the closer they get to the season (the Hall of Fame game is next week!), the lower your numbers get. It’s downright embarrassing. Save some face and play your ace-in-the-hole now.

You’ll have two major markets with passionate fans driving ratings through the roof while the only talk right now is what Terrell Owens and Chad Ochocinco talk about during their lunch break.

The window is small, Bud, and it’s shrinking fast. Summer playoffs; I like it! That would make you a forward thinker. You came up with the wild card and that seems to be a success (after foolishly expanding to increase the need for the wild card system, but that’s another story); you came up with interleague play; and you implemented steroid testing only ten years too late ... so let’s go for the Grand Salami here!

Right now, Phils and Yanks, best-of-seven (starting in Philly this year thanks to Joe Giraldi’s decision not to pinch run for David Ortiz), let’s give America what they’re waiting for ... well, before football.

Sure, you won’t carry the Baltimore market ... or Cincy ... probably not anywhere west of Cleveland ... oh, that reminds me, Cleveland won’t watch either. But you’ll get New York and Philly ... and Boston (whose only desire will be for both teams to implode by some sort of scientific phenomena caused by the excess gaseous vapor generated by both sets of fanatics).

It’s your only hope. With basketball’s popularity in the ol’ dumper, America wants baseball to do well. Otherwise, we’ll be stuck watching jai alai matches on ESPN Doze to pass the summer months until ... well, until right now.

Did you hear Albert Haynesworth didn’t pass his conditioning test? Or that Darrelle Revis is sitting on his island instead of participating in training camp? Of course you did, because it’s football season!

Did you hear relief pitcher Scott Downs stayed put in Toronto? Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

That’s all I’m going to say. Tom Brady’s talking to the press about what it’s like to be a father. I’ve got to watch.

Tasering fans is a relatively new concept in sports. In the early days, ballparks would simply cut off beer taps in order to quiet unruly fans. But now, as fans find new reasons to be unruly (i.e. their team is losing, instant YouTube fame, Santa Claus in their field of vision, they root for the Raiders, their friend dared them to, they were drunk when they arrived, etc.), law enforcement and security personnel must take more stringent measures to ensure the ball park is a pleasant, idyllic place for young children to go in order to hear a “Yankees Suck, Jeter Swallows” chant.

On Monday evening, during a contest between the Phillies and the Cardinals at Philadelphia’s Citizens Bank Ballpark, (y’know, just because it has “citizens” in the name, doesn’t mean the fans can do what they want) a 17-year-old fan ran onto the field and was swift enough to elude a slew of security. Of course, this one ended up like they all do ... with the kid getting a tryout with the Eagles. No, wait, that’s not what happened. Oh, I remember, he got tasered by the guard that couldn’t catch him.

On Tuesday evening, during another contest between the Phillies and the Cardinals, another fan ran onto the field, but got not nearly the same press as the first kid since it was, by then, just another day at the ball yard.

Of course, it all goes to prove a point I’ve been making for years – the Cardinals bring out the worst in fans.

So there’s naturally some outrage and back and forth over whether this was excessive behavior on the part of the officer. The police department is on the record for saying the taserer acted within the

guidelines on when to taser, but that they will “review” the incident, nonetheless. (I can’t say I blame them. I’ve “reviewed” the footage at least 50 times already myself. It's hilarious!)

But perhaps those people siding with the “victim's rights” in this scenario (people who do not include the kid’s mother, by the way) may have a point. Was tasing necessary?

I mean, where was the kid going to run? Have you ever seen any of these chases end with a bunch of guards standing around going, “Where the heck did he go? ... I dunno, did you check the bullpen?”

Hey, if the kid all of a sudden pulled off his clothes to reveal a security outfit and then blended in with those chasing him, then I would’ve tipped my cap to him. He doesn’t deserve to be caught if he’s that good.

Was he going to pull the old wrestling maneuver where the guy’s about to be pummeled and suddenly holds out his hand as a show of good sportsmanship? And then the other wrestler, who’s obviously shocked by this turn of events, looks to the audience to figure out what to do. Then even after everyone in the crowd tells him not to shake it, he does anyway, only to get kicked in the solar plexus (which I believe is the galaxy just past Neptune).

Again, that would’ve been cool. But all signs point to him being caught eventually. In fact, why chase him? If a rabbit gets loose on the field, the players just stand around and let the bunny figure out where to go. Maybe they make a few steps toward it, but they rarely break into a full, brow-glistening sprint. Unless the kid takes a seat in the middle of the field, his running could only have led to getting caught.

But one guard decided this was a good time to unleash “the tase.” Was it uncalled for?

First of all, this is Philly, so are you sure a taser was enough? We’re talking about the fans that booed Donovan McNabb, the same guy that took them to five NFC Championship games and one Super Bowl. Many of these fans use pepper spray as a food seasoning and a taser to get rid of back hair.

And secondly, this is Philly, if you think the fans are tough, look at the guards. They’re fans too. So picture the fans, now put them in a position of authority, perhaps with some sort of weapon you’d need to have registered.

So to close the book on this, the kid was all right with no lasting harm except maybe emotional, the creators of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” got some new material with which to work, and life in Philly can go back to normal with fans in the parking lot tasing each other just to get a rush.

It’s not that I think tasing should become the new “high five,” but there certainly are times when this is totally acceptable, such as: at a Justin Bieber concert; when a parking enforcement officer says, “well, I’ve already started writing the ticket;” on anyone who’s ever chanted “Drill, baby, drill!” that isn’t down in New Orleans as we speak helping to clean up the oil spill; to your friend who texts back in agreement just to say, “k;” on drivers that pull into an intersection to make a U-Turn, yet need a 5-point turn to accomplish this; on Verizon customer service representatives who seriously must get together at least once a week to decide what wrong information to dispense; on Wall Street executives (but that goes without saying); and, of course, on fans who run onto the field during games after calling their fathers to say they “might” do it and being told it wasn’t a good idea.

But that’s just me. What do I know? I poured some Mace® in my coffee this morning and might not be thinking right.

So it’s back to the future for the World Series as we revisit 1950 for another clash between the Phillies of Philadelphia and the Yankees of New Yank, er, York.

Though obviously, there have been many technological advances to the televising of games since America’s Baby Boom. Even recently, Fox has continued to innovate its coverage. (Now, if only it can figure out a device that keeps viewers on the East Coast awake during games that last more than three hours.)

During the ALCS, the sports broadcast really perfected our ability to question balls and strikes by showing the pitch location. And they added a radar gun that reads the speed of the pitch when it leaves the pitcher’s hand as well as when it crosses the plate.

This week will be no different. Fox will add a feature that allows you to mute Tim McCarver. Additionally, statements like “he’s a ballplayer” and “you’ve got to play the game” will be converted into useful, intelligent commentary before it goes out over the air. They are also unveiling a new device that measures the amount of spit Mariano Rivera puts on the baseball.

Anyway, I’ve studied the teams and will present to you now my lockdown, guarantee, take-it-home-with-you “Keys to Victory.” The team that adheres to more of these goals will be hoisting the trophy during the victory riot its city will have in two weeks. On to the “Keys to Victory:”

Philadelphia
Play to your Strengths -- Brad Lidge has to go heavy on his fastball. He threw a lot of suckballs during the season and those didn’t seem to work for him.

Count Your Pitches-- Don’t leave Pedro in with a three-run lead in the eighth even if he says he still has something in the tank. Trust me on this. Charlie Manuel must show that, although he carries himself at a slower pace, he’s no Grady Little.

Duh -- Score more runs than the Yankees do.

Utilize the Fans -- One of your great advantages is the fan base. They’re out of their minds. I would allow the fans onto the field. Maybe place some seats against the wall in right field. After two beers, they’ll tackle any Yankee that gets near them. They’ll probably tackle the Philly Phanatic too, come to think of it.

Channel Doc Brown -- Get a time machine, go back to 2008, kidnap Cole Hamels, and bring him to the present to pitch in the series. Of course, you’ll have to hold the current Cole Hamels captive in a closet somewhere so he doesn’t cross paths with 2008 Cole Hamels. If the two did come in contact with one another, the results would be cataclysmic, possibly causing such a shift in the space-time continuum that the balance of power is thrown off to the point where the Royals might become the most-winningest franchise in sports history.

New York
Keep CC at Home -- Don’t pitch Sabathia on the road. If he gets so much as a whiff of a Philly cheesesteak, all his diligence and training during the year could be for naught.

Attack the Mound -- They might not like to admit it, but the Angels gave the Yankees more trouble than they expected. The Yankees tallied 432 mound conferences in the six games as they tried to formulate a better plan. The Phillies are tougher than the Angels. New York will need to top 500 mound conferences if they expect to outlast Philadelphia. Vegas has the over/under on mound conferences at 460. I say, take the over.

Close it out early -- Pitch Rivera anytime after the fifth inning. His postseason ERA is under 2.00. ERA. is calculated per nine innings. So if you are a Sabermetric guy and manage by the numbers, you’ll realize he’ll only give up one run at most if he pitches half a game. With the weather and ludicrous scheduling, he should have two to three days off between appearances anyway.

Juice it! -- Don’t stop taking those steroids. Yeah, yeah, A-Rod “only took them with the Rangers,” and Pettitte did them “just that one time” with his friend Roger Clemens. And I’m the ghost of Roberto Clemente. Vaya los Pirates!

Recharge the Batteries -- Keep Molina as Burnett’s catcher. The loss in offense will hardly be noticeable due to the loss in defense.

Look for both Philadelphia and New York to follow these blueprints as much as they can. It will come down to who executes better. And considering the lineups, matchups, any potential dustups and the teams’ makeups, I predict that the Philadelphia Phillies will repeat as champions, winning this thing in six games ... unless, of course, they don’t.

I found it ironic on Sunday that I, being a Boston fan, would have a funeral to attend just after the Red Sox lost to the Angels. The service was solely for a dear family friend, but my thoughts stole away from her for a moment to grieve briefly for Boston’s Olde Towne Teame (the extra “e” is for excitement).

It’s what we, as Red Sox fans, do. The team dictates our moods, our actions, our prayers. We are a passionate (READ: obsessed) fan base. And in one 24-hour span, the two fan bases generally regarded as the most knowledgeable saw their seasons come to an end at the hands of Southern California teams. St. Louis and its more belligerent, yet equally intelligent brethren, Boston, were forced to put their rally caps and replica jerseys in the closet for another year.

For they had ceded victory to a region that doesn’t get a lot of recognition as one that has great fans. But this is not to diminish their fanliness or bring into question their fanhood. On the contrary, they are their own kind of fans, dedicated in their own way, focused in a manner uniquely West Coastian.

Certainly to the rest of the population consisting of Tomahawk-chopping Braves fans, Homer Hankie-having Twinsies, not-showing-up Marlins fans, et al., the dance card is filled with teams that aren’t deserving. But fanatics of the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Near-But-Not-Actually-In-Los Angeles Angels contend that their reasoning is both near-sighted and myopic without being the least bit redundant.

But is it? I mean, if baseball games started in the third inning and ended in the seventh, they might have a case. Or if the term “true fan” meant someone who rooted for their teams only when they were doing well, they would certainly enter the discussion. But for now, that’s not the case. However, those sterotypes may be unfairly attributed to these fans as a consequence of many of them being Lakers fans.

With that said, let’s meet the fans that will be rooting on their teams in their respective league championship series this coming week:

Los Angeles Dodgers
In the National League, there are few teams that have as great a history as the former Robins of Brooklyn. Outside of the Giants and Cubbies, no team has won more games. And they’ve been to the postseason more than anyone except their former cross town rivals, Los Yanquis, having won the most pennants in the National League.

Fans of “Los Doyers” are the most true blue, literally. They “bleed Dodger blue” and not only because of a congenital condition that changes the color of their hemoglobin. The fact that they are routinely late to the games is simply due to traffic and the logistical nightmare they have trying to cram 50,000 fans all driving alone to the ballpark up one road alongside a mountain.

Of course, one of the most famous shots in the history of baseball came in the 1988 World Series by their hero Kirk Gibson. Arguably, the most memorable visual of that moment came of the cars in the parking lot trying to beat the traffic home screeching on their brakes when they heard the radio broadcast announce that Gibson won the game on a home run.

Some might say this enhanced their reputation as bad fans, but could you really blame them? The game was out of reach going into the bottom of the ninth as the A’s held a seemingly insurmountable one-run lead.

Philadelphia Phillies
These guys are hardened. They were the first fans to endure their team losing 10,000 games. And they got blown out in 9,500 of them. Each one of those has stayed with them and added to the resentment of all those other teams that won. Until last year, they were the most futile city with a team in all four major professional sports, having gone without any championship for a quarter century since Dr. J cured those loser blues.

It’s taken its toll, however. These fans from the “City of Brotherly Love” will throw rocks at Santa Claus; they’ll cheer when opposing players get injured; they’ll even punch a nun in the face if she’s going for the same foul ball as they are.

A trivial side note is that one of the cities delicacies is called “scrapple.” This is the stuff that isn’t deemed worthy enough for hot dogs. And they eat that. A lot of that. (I’d repeat that for you, but I’m too busy inducing vomiting.)

So keep that in mind and treat them with kid gloves. After all, with all the scrapple and cheesesteaks they eat, they don’t have long to live. It’s science.

Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim
The team that switches its locator name every several years, the Angels, is the youngest team at this party. They’ve only been playing for 49 years. And their fans have only been watching them play for seven.

It was in mid-2002 that this breed of fan was discovered. Before then, if you went to a game at the “Big A,” their fans were the needle to the visiting teams’ fans’ haystack. Even Hall of Famer Rod Carew played some games for them wearing his Twins cap.

But then Mike Scoscia’s boys got hot and people started showing up. Still, they weren’t sure of fan etiquette. Fairly new to this sport of baseball, the Orange County residents looked for guidance on when and how hard to cheer. That guidance came in the form of a monkey. Not just any monkey, mind you, a rally monkey. And not just any rally monkey, but a celebrity rally monkey. They hired Katie the



Monkey, (who is on the Internet Movie Database. Look it up.) with a resume that included a role on “Friends” as Ross’ simian friend Marcel, and, most famously, as the ebola monkey from “Outbreak.”

So they’re taken cheering advice from her because they don’t want to get sick. Incidentally, unlike Dodgers fans, Angels fans are late to the games because they still aren’t sure when the games start.

New York Yankees
What can be said about these fans that hasn’t been graphitized on their stadium’s walls? Strangely enough, they’ve had the opposite history of the Phillies yet end up in the same place; they’ve won so much that they are also angry. They are also an entitled bunch.

Anything short of a championship is a complete and abject failure, which they’re getting used to. They continue to make the most of it, however, by opening their purse strings and snatching up whichever free agent has the best stats the previous season. And yet with a half billion dollars on their payroll for the next few years, they’ll continue to defend any accusations of “buying championships.”

As Anaheim wavers about their name, Yankees fans, too, are confused. Is it because they haven’t succeeded in winning any championships lately? They’re having a crisis of confidence and need you to lend them a sympathetic ear. I’m not talking about letting them suckle from your teat, but let them gloat. It’s what they do best, when they’re not bashing on A-Rod. And they have gone so long without something about which to gloat.

(If you’re hoping to attend a game at Yankee Stadium, by the way, you should know that great seats are still available and probably will be available through Games One and Two of the ALCS. They’re directly behind home plate and evidently, from the looks of things during the recently transpired ALDS, are being kept empty just in the event you decide you want to take in a playoff game there.)

So strap yourself in for a fantastic fortnight of baseball as we narrow down the contestants, and subsequently the fans, to one from the American League and one from the National League. It will be a Freeway Series, I say, thus marking the first time in history that the World Series games will start in the third inning.

So I went to the famous Comic Convention, a.k.a. "Comic Con," this past weekend in Sahn Di-ahgo (German for “a whale’s vagina”). It’s not really my scene as I don’t know a thing about comics, but it’s become so much more. Major Hollywood studios are there to promote their upcoming major works.

And the fans eat this up. They get dressed up, memorize Vulcan handshakes and exchange fashion tips (black t-shirts and jeans work for any occasion evidently). I felt out of place, simply naked without my Green Lantern costume. I did like being considered among the coolest people there though, by default.

But the reason I’m bringing this up is ... I got to meet Megan Fox. She was there promoting the upcoming “Jonah Hex” flick from Warner Brothers studios. Sitting next to Josh Brolin, she was signing autographs at a table for the uninteresting masses. Bored, her gaze began to wander, past the Klingon emperor standing in front of me and they locked on yours truly.

She pursed her pouty lips and gave me a little smile. With a twinkle in her eyes, she beckoned me with her lithe index finger. I quickly turned to ask the Stormtrooper next to me for a Certs, but thought better of it, and just began to push through the line amid all sorts of dejected stares.

At the table, she whispered in my ear, “I want you to take me home with you.”

“Well, that is a tempting offer, Megan, but I gotta mull it over a little. How long do I have?”

“The weekend ends tomorrow. And when it does, I become unavailable.” (I don’t know how at this point, but she was now sitting in my lap.)

“Hey, Brolin, fetch me a lemonade from the concourse,” I said, handing the next action hero my thermos.

Then I turned back to Megan and said, “Well, baby, I’m definitely intrigued, but I got a couple of 21-year-olds here that are pretty hot stuff."

I indicated the Nickelodeon pavilion and continued: "See that Green Romulan over there talking to Spongebob Squarepants? She won 'Hottest Intergalactic Chick' at the recent Star Trek regional pre-Convention. She's a big-time talent ..."

Then past her, a girl stood engrossed in some graphic novel. "And that girl in the Pad Thai costume, or whoever Natalie Portman was in Star Wars," I said. "She’s not really anything now, but once her scoliosis rights itself, she’s going to be quite a catch. That's what I got going on right now."

Megan’s heartbeat fluttered a little bit. She was heavier than I would have imagined and my left leg was going numb. “If you take me now, you’ll have me for the next year and a half.”

“Wow, year and a half?”

“Yes, I’m that type of girl. I won’t hit the open market again for that long. I’ll be all yours.” (She said the last two words so breathlessly into my ear that I spilled the lemonade Brolin had brought me.)

So now I’ve got this interesting dilemma -- I can have the hottest girl on the planet or a couple of my up-and-comers who I’ve been grooming for some time and may or may not turn out to be hot. But if they do, I’ll have two of them and be able to put together a pretty good harem in 2011.

Megan Fox now. A couple of girls with some upside later. And I had to choose by the end of the weekend.

What would you do, Philadelphia? Looks like you’re leaning to the Romulan and the Queen.