ALCS Game #2 2012: Yankees vs. Tigers

Last week, we asked you what your favorite part about our ALDS experience was. No one chose the fratada or PINK loves the Yankees. Okay, so PINK wasn’t very funny, but that fratada sh*t totally was. You guys suck. As always. 2 of you actually chose our grotesque eating habits. You’ve got to be kidding us. Seriously??? That is so disappointing. 1 person chose “Wood.” That was funny also, but why did only 1 individual choose it? There’s only 1 pervert in this bunch? We’re starting to think that we have nothing in common with you people.

Anyway, onto to the purpose of this blog. Our delightful experience at Game 2 of the ALCS. Obviously, we know how this story ends for the Yankees. They sucked penis. They couldn’t hit water if they fell out of a boat. The sad thing is that for the most part, their pitchers kept the Yankees in the game, but when your starting pitcher makes 1 lousy mistake and gives the opposite team a run, that can’t be it. You NEED to give your pitchers some wiggle room.1 run can’t be a death sentence. It’s not fair to your pitcher. Or the fans that paid a lot of money to get drunk at your game. You’re suffocating your pitcher and now you’re suffocating your fans. Don’t suffocate us, man! Oh, and by the way? We’re at a bar drinking right now as we blog.

We arrived at Yankees Stadium with enough time to grab a beer at Stan’s. The placed was packed out, but the bartender was the very definition of efficient and he serviced us like a mother f*cking champion. We drank our beers near the doorway to make room for the customers still pouring into the bar.

Since we only had about 15 minutes before first pitch, we sucked our beers down. And when we say “sucked down,” we mean that we literally couldn’t have drank our beers any faster unless we drank them with a straw. From Stan’s, we jogged across the street to Yankees Stadium, sped walked up the billion ramps to our section (no stairs. We learned our lesson from the Damon Runyon 5K), purchased a pair of hot dogs and beers, and headed to our seats just in time for first pitch. Side note: we’ve decided that these are the best seats ever. Look at this friggin’ view. It’s perfect:

Nothing was obstructed from these seats, except for Nick Swisher, but seeing as how he played like a total douche nozzle this postseason, we really didn't want to see much of him to begin with. We want these seats for every single game we attend at Yankees Stadium. We do not care if these belong to season ticket holders. We demand that Section 305, Row 3, Seats 14 and 15 be issued to us. Don’t the Yankees know who we are?

Our hot dogs were pretty good. Not as good as a sausage, but tasty nevertheless. What can we say? We were on a budget. Money was tight and we pretty much spent 90% of our cash on beer. We’ve got our priorities in order.

Our pitching matchup was Hiroki Kuroda and Anibel Sanchez. This was disappointing because Serena still felt strongly that we deserved The Big Texan and the Yankees purposefully blew it in the ALDS just to piss us off and prevent us from having quality time with Andy Pettitte. Those f*cks.

Oh! And we should mention that Derek Jeter had hurt his footie the night before so we were surrounded by a lot of a-holes carrying signs like this:

Like Derek Jeter really gives a sh*t that you wish him well. Stupid. What’s worse is that this pair is clearly a couple of some sort. When you’re in a couple, it’s someone’s job to make the appropriate decisions for that couple. It could be the man or the woman. SOMEONE needs to make the right choices. When you show up to a stadium with an asinine sign like this, it means that both of you are a-holes. Neither of you have any decision-making skills. One of you needed to say, “seriously, babe? This is asstastic. Can we not do this? We’re gonna look stupid.” Clearly these two would not survive in the great outdoors. They look like giant pansies.

Not much action happened until the 7^th, but prior to that, the only man who had been consistently performing, Raul Ibanez, walked with Mark Teixeira on base in the bottom of the 1^st. The Yankees would go on to do nothing to capitalize on this scenario, but the jumbotron flashed this gem on the screen:

We found him dressed in a pimp outfit to be particularly amusing. Amusing enough to take a picture of it. In our defense, there was nothing else to amuse us by this point. The score was 0-0.

While the Yankees trudged slowly through the game like a man in a desert without water, we continued to check the Giants/49er’s score. Another side note: Who schedules a MLB Championship game at 4:00? This directly interfered with football Sunday as we had to leave with enough time to get the train to Yankees Stadium, causing us to miss both the Jets AND Giants games. PLUS, the Giants game turned out to be epic whereas the Yankees game turned out to be a dud!!!! We supported both our Yankees and GMEN:

The men in front of us heard us talking about the football game and assumed that Serena was the keeper of football scores, so at his request, she had to keep checking her NFL app for score updates to appease them. We discussed being a part of a pick em’ league. Which teams did you pick, etc., etc., and why? The men agreed with Serena that her league being all about “The Spread” was horse shit. What is “The Spread” anyway? Who came up with that? It sounds like an STD. The little kid hanging out with them really enjoyed Serena’s R2D2 text tone and other assorted Star Wars sounds that can be found on her phone. Serena tried to eat his ice cream, but the kid wasn’t having it. Selfish little crab. He had an entire pint and he couldn’t spare ONE lousy spoonful? That seems a bit ridiculous, if you ask us. Ridiculous and a touch selfish.

In the 7^th, the Tigers scratched a run across, spelling inevitable doom. 1 run? With the way this offense had been hitting? Might as well have been 4,000 to 0. Around this time, Serena came up with a pet name for Alex Rodriguez, Curtis Granderson, and Nick Swisher. Since they were as useful as tits on a bull, Serena started calling them the “0 (pronounced “O”) for Triplets.” Lisa found this funny enough to actually make a note about it in “The Notebook.”

A few rows in front of us sat a man that we’d never, ever consider dating. Want to know why? No? You don’t. Tough. We’re going to tell you. It’s our blog. So there. This man was an embarrassment to testosterone. He saved bits of his pretzel like a squirrel. What kind of man can’t finish a f*cking pretzel? It’s not even that big. And if you don’t eat it while it’s warm, it get hard and icky. Hard…hahaha…that’s what she said. Sorry. Easily distracted. And we’ve been drinking. Back to the vagina who calls himself a man. Not only did he save bits of his pretzel, but he stored his bits in his pocket like a total creeper!!! Tell us that this doesn’t look like a flasher with his penis sticking out of his fly:

C’mon! That’s definitely a little penis poking through! So disturbing.

In the bottom of the 9^th with 2 outs and the Yankees down by 3, Alex Rodriguez hit a single and stole second. For absolutely no reason except for maybe his health. The Yankees lost 3-0. Like a pack of a-holes. After the game, we went to the bar and continued to drink. This is Lisa playing baseball with a little boy:

Super hero of the week: Alex Rodriguez for getting digits while at work. Good for him! Multi-tasking at its best!!!

A-hole of the week: The Yankees, not for losing, but for getting swept. Really, guys???

You Look So Beautiful To Me. Can’t You See?

We grieved for a lost time of classy ball players that played with heart last week and asked you lovely people what you felt was the reason for today’s lollygagging on the baseball field. It seems as though you really didn’t give a crap about this because only 4 of you responded. A whopping 2 people chose “I’m fat.” Awesome. 1 person chose “I’m getting paid either way, why do I have to run out the play?” And 1 one person chose “Do you even know who I am? I don’t run.” No one chose “I’m just so tired” or “first base is really far away.”

Apparently among the many stupid things that Carlos Beltran did last season, Beltran also offered to pay for Jon Niese’s nose job if Niese ever chose to go through with one. Niese recently underwent a nose job to repair his Toucan Sam beak and Beltran fully intends to foot the $10,000 bill. We’re so glad that Beltran has so much money as his disposal that he can easily pay for other people’s plastic surgeries. Is he taking requests? Serena would like an ass reduction and Lisa would like a breast lift. Are you listening, Carlos? You f*cking a-hole. By the way, is someone going to pay to have that mole removed from your face? It’s insane. It might have its own gravitational pull.

Let’s think about how this conversation in the clubhouse most likely went down sometime last season:

Setting: Mets Clubhouse

Carlos: Jon, have you ever considered getting plastic surgery?

Jon: Uh…for what?
David: Carlos! We agreed we wouldn’t tell him! You’re such an a-hole!
Carlos: He needs to know, hermano.
Jon: Know what?
Carlos: Listen, hermano, I’m not gonna tell you that you need a nose job, but if you choose to get one, I’ll pay for it.  
Jon: Oh…well…I never really thought about it before…
Carlos: Really? You haven’t? That amazes me. Haven’t you looked in the mirror?
Jon: Well…yeah. I mean, I shaved today. What do you mean?
Carlos: How can I say this without sounding like an a-hole? Oh, wait. I am an a-hole so this shouldn’t be a problem. Do you get laid on a regular basis?
David: Aw, man. I can’t believe you went there!
Jon: Well…no…not really. I mean…there are hookers…and you know…those cleat chasers…and that one blind girl.
Carlos: Exactly.
Jon: Um…are you saying it’s because of my nose?
David: God, this is awkward. Especially since I’m so good looking.
Carlos: Of course I think it’s because of your nose!!! I mean, look at me, Jon. Look at you. Look at David. Now look at you again. We get laid all the time. And when I say all the time, I’m not exaggerating. There are some nights I don’t sleep. I have to drink Red Bull constantly in order to keep my bevy of señoritas satisfied. David here has women of all ages throwing themselves at him. There’s that crazy girl, Lisa, who writes that stupid blog with the mean Yankees fan who wants to punch David in the face. Lisa is two steps away from paying David to bang her.
David: True story. She’s crazy a bitch. And her friend scares me. (Points to his face) I mean, hello. Look at my face. She can’t punch me. There’s a reason why I’m the face of the franchise and you’re not.
Carlos: Yeah and Fruit Loops already has a face of their franchise so you’re sh*t out of luck right now.
David: You need something that’s going to make you stand out, but in a good way. Not in the way that you currently stand out.
Carlos: I mean, when you go down on a girl, doesn’t your nose get in the way?
Jon: Well…I never really noticed…
David: Oh, jeez. That’s a whole other set of problems that we’ll need to work on later.
Carlos: After your nose job.
Jon: Well, if you think I should…
Carlos: I do. Think it over, hermano. Let me know. Oh, and by the way, when you go for the surgery, make sure to notify the Mets. Apparently keeping surgery a secret is frowned upon in this establishment.
(Carlos walks off into the sunset)
Jon: David? Do you think he’s right?
David: (Sigh) I do, little buddy. I mean, if you looked half as good as I do, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. We only want what’s best for you. I mean, the team. And my eyesight.
Jon: (Looking very ashamed) I didn’t realize how ugly I was.
David: I don’t even know how that’s possible. You said you owned a mirror.
Jon: I just didn’t think it was so bad. I thought women didn’t like me because I was Jon Niese.
David: Yeah, it’s definitely the nose, buddy. You get that sh*t fixed, you’re a professional baseball player, you live in New York, and you’re sexy. You’re totally getting banged.
Jon: (Hopeful) You really think so?
David: I sure do! Don’t you want to glisten in the sunlight on the mound like I do at third? (Points to his face) This is my money maker. (Holds up mitt) Not this. (Points to his face again) This will get you endorsements and Victoria’s Secret models that will eventually appear on a cyber list called, “Hottest Baseball Girlfriends/Wives.” For god sakes, look at Russell Martin’s bitch. And he’s terrible looking. But he does have a normal-sized nose. You don’t.
Jon: I do want to glisten like you, David!
David: So do it! Carlos is paying for it! He’s a d*ck! And I hear he’s not gonna be around much longer, so just take the money and run!!!
Jon: You’re right, David. I’ll do it. I’ll make my appointment right now!
(Jon skips off happily)
David: (Looking on with pride) That’s it, little buddy. You go on and fly like a bird! A beautiful, normal-sized nosed bird. (Pulls out to-do list and crosses off “Jon Niese Nose Job”) Now that that’s over with, what’s next? Ah, yes. Getting Jose to wash his hair…or traded to another team. (Laughs creepily).

The lights dim and the curtains close.

End scene.

In other baseball news, the Yankees have finalized a $1.1 million, 1-year contract with former Phillies outfielder Raul Ibanez and a $900,000, 1-year deal to retain Eric Chavez. It’s nice when you’re back up third baseman is Eric Chavez. Ibanez will most likely be utilized as a designated hitter and his contract includes $2.9 million in performance bonuses. The TBB are definitely working in the wrong industry.

Ryan Braun joined the team’s first full-squad practice on Saturday having had a heavy burden lifted. Braun was found free and clear of the substance abuse charges and 50-game suspension he’d been facing heading into the 2012 season. Thank goodness. We would’ve been severely disappointed if our favorite Brewer turned out to be a giant fail.

Akon serenades us with, “I see you in the clubhouse. No girl wants to get with you. I see you in the clubhouse. No one’s showing you love. You’re so not beautiful. So not beautiful. Said you’re so not beautiful. So not beautiful. With your nose.”