Monday, August 19, 2013

Confessions of a bad fan

So ... some stuff happened in the Yankees-Red Sox game last night.



This nutter from Joe Giradi is one of the best I've ever seen. Joe
Torre would have sat on his behind and hoped the power of his
calm would make everything stop.

From that moment on, I wanted the Yankees to get even, even if it meant CC Sabathia would have been immediately thrown out, thanks to the stupid way umpires implement the warning rule, which has the effect of giving one team a free shot ... or two, or three, or four.


I've made my thoughts on David Ortiz known more than once (and had a heated chat with my Red Sox fan mother-in-law about it over lunch yesterday), so I'll spare another rant. Instead, I'll leave it to The Captain's Blog.

I shouldn't be proud of wanting to see a player I don't like on a team I don't like getting hit by a pitch and being upset when it didn't happen. (Even though I understand there really was no right time during the rest of the game to do it, I'm a believer that if you wait until the "right time," that time may never come up.)

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was when, during the middle of the game, I turned to Mrs. Last Honest and said ...
"I don't even care if the Yankees win this game. I just want to see Ortiz get hit." 
Yes, I prioritized retaliation over winning a game, a game that would have won a series over the Yankees' bitter rivals, at a time of the season when the Yankees need every win they can get. Mrs. Last Honest didn't really say much of anything, but I could tell by the look on her face that she thought I had lost my mind.

And I kind of had. In that moment, I became the guy I hate, the guy I wrote about at the end of the game, when the Yankees were on their way to victory.

I'll try to be better next time.

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