Olds of the Day

It's late on Saturday night and I gotta work Sunday and I figure I may as well squeeze another waking hour out of my one day weekend, so here I am.

I told you that I'd have more on the apple-picking trip, but in thinking about it, I don't have more. We went apple picking. We picked apples and ate apple cider donuts. It was great fun. The end.

I had an idea for a sketch recently. Maybe if Tom Cruise ever decides that in order to get his career back on track he needs to host SNL, he can star in this bit. In the sketch, a bartender gets hired at a last-chance, Vietnam-vet-clientele, shithole bar. The kind of dark musty place where people go every day to get drunk as they wait for death to arrive. Maybe there are two customers in there at a time. And this bartender is the guy from Cocktail twenty years down the road, or someone like him. He insists on going through an elaborate choreographed routine every time someone orders a drink -- dancing, singing, bottle-throwing, shaker-spinning and basically Tom Cruising like nobody's business. There are at least three minutes worth of comedic possibilities within this premise, don't you agree?

Oh, check this out -- today I got my worst haircut ever! I seriously think I am going to wear a hat all week to work this week. I dunno what to do. It's stunning. OK, I'll show you -- aiiiyeeee:

That is my Wild, Innocent, E Street Shuffle pose.

I thought maybe if I cut off all my hair I'd look slimmer or younger or handsomer or something. Nope. Now I just look like a really dumb guy. By the way, if you're keeping score, that was a #4 on the top and a #2 on the sides and back. Avoid those blades.

OK that was all written last Saturday. It kinda sucked so I didn't post it. Now it's like 8 (now 15) more days later and verbungle is drying up like a scab in the sun. I've had a few ideas for posts in that span but not many and none so good that I found the strength to execute them.

So I have decided that for the foreseeable future, when blogging time is at a premium, I am going to keep it short and simple and numbered for your convenience. Posts will usually concern topics that are at least two weeks past their newsworthiness shelf-life, because I have been too busy to get to them any sooner. They are the opposite of news; let's call them "olds".

Here then are the olds for tonight.

1) Val S. sends in the scoop on the jugs o' piss from back in the day:

To answer CW's question from a few posts, ago...

The jars of piss were really Poland Spring Cooler bottles full of piss.

Remember, fondly, the LMS, which held all the assets of the office?

Well, those who ran the LMS did not want to leave while they were busy watching Giants or Jets games or clipping their toenails, so they started pissing in the empty Poland Spring bottles. As their supervisor, I had no idea, until one night, during the graveyard shift, I went to take a nap behind the machine, and there was a huge bottle of piss...

I demanded the offenders remove it. A few days later, it ended up in the hallway. I think it stayed there until we left the place. Some Poland Springs driver had a bad day, I'm sure.

2) My thoughts about the World Series -- I barely watched any of it. It was pretty sucky. But it did illustrate something that has been obvious to me and other rational humans for many years. That baseball, which may be the greatest game of them all*, is decided by a system which does not necessarily produce the best team as champion. If you've watched the Devil Rays take three out of four from your favorite team in June, you know it to be true. I am not saying there is a better way to do it, just that we should all remind ourselves every once in a while that what happens in October has as much to do with chance and who's got a couple of good pitchers and who got cold at the wrong moment as it does with which team was the best in that particular year. A-Rod still blows, though.

Really, the only reason I bring this up is that people were so sure the AL team was going to win because the NL had a down year blah blah blah. I'm not even sure those people were qualified to say whether the NL had a down year or not. But what I hope these morons now understand is that no postseason series in baseball is ever a done deal. This year should prove that to everyone forever (Bill Simmons especially). Hopefully.

3) A little more sports -- this time football. I like football. I like watching it. I like throwing it. But one thing I cannot stand is to hear people talk about it. Pre-game. Post-game. "Can the Dolphins run the ball against the Bears D?" All the hype. The experts. The analysis. I find it unbearable. I just don't care enough about sports anymore to stomach it.

In fact, I think it's safe to say now that my connection to sports has changed. I still dig 'em. I like watching guys run, kick, shoot, smash, leap, celebrate, dunk, dive, and spit. I still care enough that I prefer that the guys on my team do all these things slightly more efficiently than the guys on your team.

I am even interested in the people who play them. Is that kicker an asshole? Wow, that relief pitcher races mules in the offseason? Cool. That undersized shooting guard was raised by his grandmother because his parents died of AIDS? I'm definitely rooting for him.

But beyond that I just don't give a shit. I don't like reading about strategy or trade rumors or who had the best offseason.

Anyway, it's a week late but I just want to say that the Jets got hosed last weekend on that end-of-game TD catch. I don't know the rules. Was it reviewable? Is the force-out rule supposed to be invoked only if the ref thinks the player would have landed inbounds, or is it if he could have landed inbounds? Either way, I think they blew it. And they ended it so quickly like they just wanted to get the f out of there. Bad job, refs.

4) Basketball -- I'm into it this year. But the Knicks look laughingstocky. I don't think I've ever seen a less inspiring triple overtime victory than theirs on opening night. Also, dd anyone notice that Quentin Richardson took three (3) steps to the basket on the deciding play of the game? The announcers sure didn't.

5) Halloween came and went. Baby Bungle got her reluctant kangaroo on.


As I looked at her trick or treating booty, and the candy we had purchased for other trick or treaters, it dawned on me that no industry has seen as little progress, as little change at the top, as the world of candy bars. If you asked a kid in 1972 what candy bars he'd like to get while trick or treating, he'd say some variation of:

Reese's PB Cups
KitKat
Snickers
Nestle Crunch

Then in like 1980 the Twix came out and joined the pack. But as far as I can tell (and I might be way off the mark here, as usual I'm going comletely research-free), those bars still rule the earth to this day. The candy bar game is a rough league to break into.

6) Work -- as you may have guessed, I been working harder than Doogie Howser's publicist lately. Twice this last week I came in at 9am and got home after 4am. Them are some rotten hours, bro. Makes you do some life-evaluatin'. More on that later.

7) It's time to bring back "late" as an abbreviation for "later," as in, "See you later." Trust me on this one.

8) Some Badgers are invading the city over the next few days. My man Vic from Chicago is coming in on Wednesday, hopefully I can hang out with him a little bit. And then this coming weekend BC, JC and BA are here and I intend to watch the Wisconsin-Iowa game with them. Friends are a great thing to have. Especially the kind of friends who have pictures of your genitalia that they have managed to keep off the internet for 15 years.

9) We need a new slogan for the top of the page, the lead-fume thing has been there for too long now. I tink we've done this before, but let's do it again anyway. 10 points to each decent suggestion, with 25 for the one that I eventually choose first. Max four suggestions per person.

* Earl Weaver's beautiful words on the subject: "You can't sit on a lead and run a few plays into the line and just kill the clock. You've got to throw the ball over the damn plate and give the other man his chance. That's why baseball is the greatest game of them all.”

Duany Duany

Shortly after we returned home from apple picking (18 apples, details to come), the phone rang. It was Duane Reade's Customer Protection Department.

"Mr. Bungle, we believe there may have been some unauthorized activity on your Duane Reade Dollar Rewards card. Have you used it in the last 24 hours?" the voice on the line said.

Panicking, I reached into the back pocket of my Levi's 582's (extra tight in the rear, with one razor-thin acid-washed stripe runing down each seam and a hypercolor crotch region manufactured in partnership with Generra) and pulled out my wallet. As I fumbled through the numerous worthless business cards and health insuarance cards and maxed-out credit cards and the 8 1/2" x 11" Ogg Hall room diagram that I had managed to fold in half 9 times, breaking the all-time letter-sized paper-folding record of 7, my mind began to race.

You see, my Dollar Rewards card means everything to me. I present it hopefully to the cashier every time I shop at Duane Reade, and I actually received a successful discount on an item as recently as 2003. And now it was unaccounted for.

"No, I haven't...and it appears to be missing," I told the lady on the phone. "How bad is it?"

"Mr. Bungle, are you sitting down? If not, I suggest you take a seat. I find it usually helps in these situations."

"OK, I'm sitting now," I said. "Tell me the damage."

"Well, someone carrying your Dollar Rewards card presented it at the Duane Reade at 47th and 6th at 4:30pm yesterday. He purchased a package of Just For Men beard formula, a greeting card, and a 20 ounce bottle of Lipton Brisk iced tea. Your card got him a 19 cent discount on the iced tea."

It felt like a punch in the stomach. My world had been turned upside down. A stranger, running around town racking up discounts that were rightfully mine. I felt so vulnerable. But there was more.

"Then he went to the Times Square branch and bought three tubes of Planters Cheese Balls, a 10 pack of Gillette Sensor II razor blades, and a 12 pack of Duracell AA batteries," she said. "He presented your card and saved 59 cents on the cheese balls."

The bastard was stocking up, I realized. Testing the limits.

Plus, I had never received a 59 cent discount on any one item in the 7 years I've been carrying the DRDR card. This guy knew the game, he was a pro.

"He struck again later at the store on 13th street and 7th avenue," she continued. "He purchased 3 bottles of Duane Reade brand tussin, a 24 pack of Ramses extra thin lubricated condoms, and a Nestle Crunch bar."

Having a little party using my savings, I thought. I felt sick. What kind of an animal could do such a thing?

"He presented the Dollar Rewards card with his purchase, and when the cashier ran it through and determined that none of those items was eligible for a discount, he demanded that she swipe the card again," she said. "She swiped it again, and again it said no discount. At this point the man became agitated, repeatedly yelling at the cashier to swpe it again until she was forced to call for her manager. However, before the manager arrived the man had grabbed your card back and fled the scene."

"Anything else? Is that it?" I asked.

"Yes sir, that's it so far," she said. "We're gonna go ahead and cancel that card right now. You can get a new one at any Duane Reade store."

I am still reeling from all this. Violated to the core. I don't know if I will ever be able to save with confidence again.

My Way or The Hallway

In the comments section following the other day's post about living like you're 23, a couple of people mentioned The Hallway. As I thought about it, I decided that maybe The Hallway deserves its own post.

Since I no longer work there, I guess I can talk about my old job for a minute. I will make it quick. When I moved back to NYC in '93, I took a position in the Operations Department of a fledgling cable TV network. I was 24 years old, a few months removed from the Wisconsin Trayline, and I had no idea what the fuck. A bunch of us young kids came in around the same time -- cW, MDGBC, inxe, later mrsmal and BJL and Joe M and Mrs. M, among others -- we knew nothing and we cared little. We were warm bodies; the bosses understood it and we understood it and that was just fine with everybody. It was cheaper than hiring pros.

As I mentioned, the network was fledgling. Now I don't know how long a business is legally entitled to remain in the "fledgling" stage, but this place seemed to fledge a lot longer than most. I could share any of a number of stories about the Wild West atmosphere that prevailed there-- the animal porn watching, the drunken stumbling in, the jerking off in the green room, the jerking off naked in master control, the fart lighting, the urine mooching, the urine storing, the armpit licking, the crack baby under the desk hiding, the porn airing, the hidden camera spying, the FBI interviewing, the blind gay dog wrangling, the disgruntled mystery employee emailing, the cameraman incarcerating, the chest cigarette butt extinguishing, the underage internet romance gossiping, the President's bare ass shuffling from bathroom stall to bathroom stall while coins came tumbling out of his trousers, enraging him, the politician's wife diarrheaing, the drunken office party reveling, the America's Most Wanted fugitive-hiring, the control room SWAT team storming, and the 162 other things that I'd kind of like to share.

But I won't, for a couple of reasons:
1) Oftentimes, those stories are most amusing only to those who were there.
2) If I am going to reveal all the details and shatter the friendships that would go along with doing so, I would prefer to do it when I finally get around to writing an actual book on the subject and getting paid $18,000 for it, not in a half-assed blogpost read by 8 people.

So for now let's just talk about The Hallway.

The Hallway refers, somewhat unsurprisingly, to a hallway within our office. The hallway that led to the studio where we taped our humble television programs. It was probably the most high-profile hallway in the place, because whenever any big shots came in they'd want to check out the studio.

By maybe 1995, the Inaugural Class of Young Douchebags, including me, had been there a couple of years and had been promoted to slightly better jobs for no other reason than we showed up for work every day and didn't steal more than the difference between what they were paying us and what they'd have to pay people who knew what they were doing.

My job title was Operations Manager. My responsibilities included calling people when things went wrong, looking worried, and much to my dismay, keeping The Hallway clean. Unfortunately, because The Hallway was big and centrally located, it became a dumping ground for all sorts of shit: tapes, props, old water cooler bottles, cardboard boxes full of paperwork, books, and general smegma.

My Boss would constantly ask me about The Hallway.

"Hans," she'd say. "Let's take a walk."

And we'd walk the length of The Hallway together. She'd point out every piece of debris and say stuff like, "You need to talk to Wendy about that grandfather clock" or "Didn't we decide last week that you were going to go through those boxes of tapes and decide which ones could be degaussed?" or "Is that human feces?"

And nothing would ever happen. I'd never clean The Hallway. I'd pick up a box here or a roll of gaffer's tape there, but I'd never make a real dent. The problem would linger. I would feel bad, really I would. And my boss would gently scold me, but she'd never push it.

And looking back now, I understand that we had a certain unspoken agreement about The Hallway. She could do her job, imploring me to do mine. And I could listen and nod, and promise to fix it, which would make her feel better. But they simply weren't paying me enough, nor did I care enough, nor did it matter enough in an intergalactic sense, for me to actually do anything about it. They were just paying me enough to say I would.

The Hallway never got clean. We moved out of that building in 1999. I bet there is still a jug o' piss sitting there.

Somehow I thought I'd have more to say about The Hallway.

Going apple picking on Saturday. How many apples will we return with? Closest guess gets 13 GP's.

movinon

Because of the (kind of entertaining, I guess) ugliness on this blog over the past few days, and my frustration about my own inability to adequately express what annoyed me so much about it despite wasting thousands of 1's and 0's attempting to do so, and my desire to put it all behind me, I am going to forego my usual Yankee post-mortem this year.

Without it, even Baby Bungle is having a tough time segueing into the imminent grisliness of the '06-'07 Knicks.


Luckily for me (and you, and Baby Bungle), Joe Monkeyweb has gone ahead and done his own brilliant post-mortem, and he has left virtually nothing left unsaid.

This frees me to move on to one of my dimestore-life-coach-style posts that appear here from time to time. With apologies to Dr. Phil, here goes.

All of us, maybe all of us besides Jack Nicholson, live with some sense of regret. An itch someplace in the back of our brains that maybe we should have chosen a different path. Professionally, personally, romantically, whatever. And as we get older, it gets harder and harder to undo these decicions. And easier and easier to take what life gives us.

And you can sit around like an old man and wonder about what might have been.

I could have been a lawyer, you might say. Or, I wonder what ever happened to cute little Cindy Lou from high school. Why didn't I ask her to the homecoming dance? Or, what I'd really like to do is open a bar. Or, I wish I could work from home writing columns about bass fishing. Or, damn I wish I had gotten into the whole exercise craze.

Or, why didn't I grow the right moustache at the right moment?

And these thoughts are nothing more than fleeting regrets because you know damn well you ain't 23 years old anymore. You have responsibilities now, financial, personal, professional. You can't afford to waste time on the whimsical pursuit of a childish dream. It's just too late to try things.

You can't go to law school -- it costs too much and by the time you got out, you'd be too old to make it worthwhile. Cindy Lou? She's not interested in you with your pot belly and your shitty job. Plus she's probably got a pot belly of her own. Forget that.

Nope, it's probably a better idea to just show up for work tomorrow, finish off the paperwork on the Willis account, and eat a turkey sandwich for lunch. You have some good shows saved up on your DVR, and the new Alan Parsons Project CD is coming out next month. Don't rock the boat.

Well I figured out a way to find the courage to begin to rectify all your mistakes, to go back and try the things you should have tried.

Just pretend you're 23.

Some old person once said, age ain't nothin' but a number, and you (and I mean me) need to buy into that. You are 23 starting tomorrow.

Think of the things you've always wanted to do. And stop worrying for a second and try to find a practical way to do them. Just plan on living (your current age minus 23) years longer than you'd been planning on living, and you're all set.

There are some things, to be sure, that you just won't be able to do. Play pro sports. Model. Date models. But make a list and pursue the reasonable ones. Start tomorrow.

My big regret I am going to fix is my career choice. Either I am going to rethink it, or I am going to hit it with everything I got and become an unquestioned success at it.

At least I have a moustache in progress. That's a start.

For ten genius points, and these are points only available to those of you who have not read the new issue of Vanity Fair, what 2 movies does George Clooney rate as the top 2 stoner comedies of all time, in order?

live janqui e-log

4:20pm

Since this may be the last game of the Yankee season, I think I might e-log it.

0-0 going into the top of the 2nd.

4:51 pm

I went out to the kitchen to eat a chocolate chip cookie and when I came back it was 1-0 Detroit. Somebody musta clubbed one. This sucks. It's funny how you can spend like $300 million on a baseball team and when you absolutely need a win you somehow end up with Jaret Wright on the mound.

I just noticed a nice new DVR feature -- when you record a live sporting event it gives you the option to extend the recording time in anticipation of the game running long. I love you, Magic Box.

4:57 pm

3-0, bottom 2nd. The season seems to be ending. There are many ways for a sports fan to come to terms with a big loss. Like Joe Monkeyweb, I cope through anger. I say things like, THIS YANKEE TEAM CHOKED or WE DIDN'T DESERVE TO WIN and WE HAD NO PITCHING and somehow that allows me to separate myself emotionally from the team.

THIS YANKEE TEAM CHOKED.

5:09 pm

The Yankees have seen 23 pitches through 3 innings. Where are our fucking bats? I am already predicting that Torre will catch hell for tinkering with the lineup, but I don't really blame him. You have to gamble sometimes, if it pays off everyone calls you a genius.

I could have gone to play basketball instead of watching this abomination. I need some exercise. Over the past couple of months I think I have officially become middle-aged. Like did you ever go to a barbecue when you were like 10 and they started a softball game and your dad played and he hit a groundball and he tried to run to first base and he was panting and shuffling and basically lugging his fat ass down the line like a pathetic old geezer? That's how I look when I run now.

5:19 pm

4-0. Wright is done. The Yankees are embarrassing themselves. They gave Detroit two extra outs this inning and then of course Pudge came through. I said out loud as he came up, "Of course he's gonna get a hit."

5:30 pm

Jeter is gonna get a hit here and start something or I am moving to the suburbs.

5:31 pm

Jeter struck out and Abreu popped out. Hello Montclair!

5:40pm

The Yankees actually retired the Tigers in order!

Also, government conspiracy alert: they just said they "beamed" some pictures back from Mars. Any time the word "beamed" appears in an article, you know someone is making some shit up.

5:46 pm

The Yankees have not reached base through five.

5:55 pm

6-0, no outs, 2 on, bottom 5th. Yuck.

I will say this, losing big in an elimination game is easier to swallow than losing a close one.

I am going to continue watching and e-logging until the lead reaches 10 runs.

5:59 pm

You know what was great? 1996.

6:16pm

I see pbdotc just commented. I agree that you can't send out Jaret Wright for a game this critical. Not sure how good Wang would be on short rest but you need to try.

But I don't really buy the whole Frankenteam thing. I think this team has good chemistry, just not quite enough pitching and they ran into some good arms in Detroit. I think the biggest factor in postseason baseball is luck. Pitching and luck. And choking. Pitching and luck and choking. And Kevin Brown.

9:20 pm

Sorry, my internet went down, or I'd have responded sooner. We got some nasty-ass Yankee-hatin' commenters out there.

First, I say the obligatory Go O's and Phillies!

Do you guys just wait around all year for this one moment to open your mouths?

First, PB:

1) "I don't really buy the whole Frankenteam thing."

dude

c'mon

All I meant was that the team seems to enjoy playing together, they seem to have fun. They seem to fit together pretty well. Sure they are all highly paid stars, but it doesn't seem like a square peg in a round hole situation. I grew to like this bunch as the season went on.

2) that was a nice moment - jeter's at bat in the 8th - there's a ballplayer who needs a team around him not a bunch of highly paid journeymen.

I don't understand this. What happened?

---

And Kissel, you are certainly welcome to your opinion but it's poorly stated and backed up here.

1) this is the most detestable team of all time. in any sport. period.

???

I might have gone with the early 90's Detoit Pistons, or any Duke basketball team in any year, or maybe the 1919 Chicago White Sox, or even the 2006 Knicks. Oh wait, you have evidence! Here it comes!

2) who do you root for on this team? sheffield? giambi? arod? johnson? wright? mussina? even jeter strikes me as a big turd. there are very few guys you can like on this team.

Actually I like Derek Jeter just fine, even now after learning from your HaloScan comment that he may in fact be a big turd. I like Mussina OK. I like Rivera. I like Bernie. I like Posada OK. I like Wang. I like Proctor. I like Damon. I like Matsui. I like Melky. They're probably all turds, but I need more proof than you saying so. Giambi certainly has his faults but he's been pretty well-liked by his teammates everywhere he's gone. I don't like him, but I don't actively hate him the way one might hate say, a creepy anti-semite like Steve Carlton or a selfish loner like Kobe Bryant. As for the steroid factor, it looks like the whole Baltimore team was on steroids -- like 60% of the successful major league players were probably on steroids. I am not going to criticize Giambi and Giambi alone because he got busted.

There are definitely some dickus mcnuggets on the team -- Sheffield, Unit, and A-Rod in particular. But none of those three was a huge factor this year.

2)Compounding the fact is that most of these guys are hired guns. sure, that is true of a lot of players in a lot of sports but the yankees are in a class of their own.

Breaking news alert! Players are signing big contracts to play ball! And the YANKEES, of all teams, are signing some of the most expensive dudes around! When did this start happening?

Who in sports is NOT a hired gun? There are like 8 guys in all the professional leagues who take less money to stay with the same team. I don't really even know what that means. Is that loyalty? Putting money in the pocket of an already rich owner instead of in your own pocket? Blame baseball for the Yankees' spending habits. Blame capitalism. Blame Steinbrenner (I know, you are about to). But if your team was raking in billions at the gate and didn't spend it on players -- good, expensive players -- you'd be pissed off about it.

Plus, call me up on a Tuesday night in June after the Yankees beat Tampa Bay 19-4 to rail on me about their "hired gun" roster. Don't wait until I'm already feeling the misery of a season-ending loss to cut loose. Same thing you did in 2004.

3)steinbrenner. has there ever been an owner you can hate more?

Agreed. I hate Steinbreenner, too. Since he took over the team this March, I have really had trouble rooting for them. They've become somehow more...detestable.

Oh wait, he's been there for like 35 years. And this season, probably due to illness, he's been much less noticeable and obnoxious than ever before. But I do hate him. Half a point to you for that. Although I may hate James Dolan more. There are actually quite a few hatable owners.

4)aside from guys like you hans-guys that know something about baseball, that die for their team, etc- most yankee fans are the worst, most spoiled fans in the world. they are touchy, classless, ill-behaved, fair weather fools. you make fun of red sox fans, but they seem to me to care more about their team and to know more about the sport. sure, they can act like drunken fools, but so can yankee fans.

Completely unscientific and annoying. Have you really spoken to enough of either set of fans to form an opinion? I doubts it. But if we are going to cast huge groups of people under one single stupid spotlight, let's start with Phillie fans. They are far more revolting than Yankees fans.

On a side note, I don't really know that much about baseball. I had only heard of like 7 of Detroit's 25 dudes. So maybe I am a typical Yankee fan, I dunno. But it does hurt to lose, I care that much at least.

5) and your joking about good chemistry too. that was funny. i suppose it is good chemistry when a loser like giambi who never won anything rags on a player in public for being choker...

All I meant was that the team seems to generally get along and have fun, at least compared to Yankee teams of the past few years. I had high hopes for this bunch.

6) you're

Yeah I got the point.

7) oh, and i forgot to mention michael kay...

I'd give you a point for this except that Michael Kay is not on the Yankees.

Finally, this:

8) i also can understand rooting for the yankees of 1995-1999. not because they won, but because they seemed like a team...it would be so much easier to just ignore the yankees until the team returns to being a team.

I liked those 96-99 teams and the 2000 champions, too -- as well as the 2001 team that fell short against Arizona. But I am sick of everybody canonizing those dudes. This whole "team" thing is so overstated...let's have a look back in time...

Paul O'Neill -- any different than Abreu? A brooding NL star traded to the Yanks in the middle of his career. Continued to brood and act like a twelve year-old throughout his time in NY. Jogged to first on ground balls. Yet he is remembered as Mr. Hustle because his teams won.

Tino Martinez -- expensive free agent signing after home-grown fan favorite Don Mattingly was forced out. Had a big butt.

John Wetteland -- proselytizing religious zealot. Also had a big butt.

Cecil Fielder -- dickhead.

Jim Leyritz -- dickhead.

David Wells -- dickhead.

Ruben Sierra -- dickhead.

Chuck Knoblauch -- nut case.

Jimmy Key -- cracker.

Andy Pettitte -- 'roid abusing bible thumper. Also has a big butt.

Joe Girardi -- old school baseball hardass. Christer. Again, big, albeit shapely, butt.

Roger Clemens -- scum of the earth on every level. And a big butt as well.

David Justice -- wife-beating dickhead.

Wade Boggs -- philandering alcoholic, selfish, stat-obsessed dickhead.

Dwight Gooden -- cokehead.

Tim Raines -- cokehead.

Darryl Strawberry -- cokehead, maniac.

David Cone - sexual deviant.

Ruben Rivera -- petty thief.

Jeff Nelson -- dickhead, head case.

Kenny Rogers -- dickhead, current Tiger.

Hideki Irabu -- fat drunk.

Were any of them outstanding bunters, or hit-and-run artists, or extra-crafty baserunners, or any of that other bullshit that people associate with "team" ball or "playing the right way"? Did they slap hands harder than the current team? Did they party together or save each other in a war or go to each other's houses for Thanksgiving? Did they hit the cutoff man more often? Did they have dirtier uniforms?

Not that I recall. They just won the World Series.

Dude, I suspect you have been drinking. I'll give you eight dollars if you can honestly tell me otherwise.

12:37pm

More from Kissel:

whatever. i never said that anything i said was "scientific." that's the whole point-my OPINION is that this "team" is a joke. i simply cannot understand why you try to stand up for them. you totally miss the point:

This is actually kinda fun.

I don't "totally miss the point" -- it's just that "the point" is old, tired, and poorly-timed. And I am used to smarter stuff from you.

1)people hate teams that have an unfair advantage. the gap between the red sox payroll and the yankees payroll is the entire payroll of the tigers team.

Blame baseball. And again, I don't fault you for rooting for Detroit; were I an impartial observer I'm sure I would too. I take exception with you acting like you are going to make me see the light and stop rooting for my team because you strolled by my blog after they got eliminated and posted a bunch of nonsense.

2)that money is being expendend on dirtbags. sheffield and giambi should not even be allowed to play. they are among the few confirmed steroid users in MLB. arod, mussina, johnson, wright, brown...i can go on and on. most of the guys you have named that you like are holdovers from the team that is understandably likeable (bernie, rivera, jeter, posada). my statement concerning jeter refers to the numerous reports that he is a cold, calculating grudge holder. he clearly has spent the last 3 post seasons blaiming his teammates for losing. i know-not scientific. oh, and its interesting based on your comments of the past how you like damon now. hmmm...

Is the punishment for being a confirmed steroid abuser a lifetime ban? And I love how you conveniently use the word "confirmed" when you yourself know well that tons of guys besides them were juicing. They never failed a test. They never got busted by the league they are employed by. Should we just kick 'em out of the game anyway?

Is Mussina a dirtbag? Give me the Jeter quotes where he blames his teammates and I still doubt I'll think he's a turd. Have I really hated on Damon before? I guess maybe I have a little, but if so he definitely won me over this season. Kevin Brown is not on this team so saying that he is a factor in their detestableness is a bit off. Wright is kinda douchey but sorta harmless. I give you arod, johnson and sheffield. But like you said, if you look at the '94 Knicks I think you'd find more than one and a half assholes on that team.

3)as for fans, i lived in boston for 10 years, and new york for 18. why would you think i dont know a lot of sox and yankee fans? that is retarded. i have been to many more sox games than you have. and i certainly have heard your unflattering characterization of them numerous times, including as written on this site. how many game have you gone to at fenway? give me a break.

Still not enough evidence. How many fans of each team do you actually know? I sat in the bleachers at Fenway for one game and heard racist taunts from scary looking date rapist types. I want to condemn all their fans but ultimately I can't. OK, fuck it, I will.

4)your look back at all of the past yankees is unconvincing-i doubt that you really buy what you have written (for example-do you really think abreu is is the same league with o'neill when it comes to wanting to win? come on).

How is it unconvincing? It's like an honor roll of assholes. And if O'Neill wanted to win so bad, why didn't he run out ground balls? I loved the guy, but he was as motivated by personal success as anything else. Or rather the fear of personal failure. Give Abreu a few years of fine Yankee living and see if he's still considered a malcontent. To me, that's one of the best things about the Torre era -- he's been able to take guys who were considered dickheads and make them act like decent fellas for at least a little while. And the larger point is that when you win, you tend to forgive guys for being dickheads.

5)sure, duke, detroit, etc all bad. but the point is that detroit was a team mostly built from the draft (thomas, rodman, dumars, etc). these are not teams that every year sign 3 old all-star dudes. that is what is so lame about them. don't give me that "every team is signing hired guns" crap-look at the team that just beat your mercinaries. you just admitted that you can only name 7 of them. that is because they are not famed hired guns.

So the foremost criterion in determining detestableness is whether or not the players were acquired through the draft? WTF? Dennis Rodman, Executive Vice President of the Asshole Club -- but they got him in the draft! And he was a steal in the 2nd round! What's not to like! Isiah Thomas, same thing. Bill Laimbeer, not homegrown, but he made less money than Bobby Abreu, so he is forgiven. Aguirre, Mahorn, etc. Whatever dude. Show me a championship team in any sport that was built entirely through the draft and I will give you another eight dollars. (Closest thing I can think of is the early-90s Bulls, and they were plenty hatable -- plus they had Michael Jordan.) Let's abolish free agency while we're at it.

And I have no problem with this Tiger team. I like 'em just fine.

Remember, your statement was "this is the most detestable team of all time. in any sport. period." Pretty strong words. Pretty weak argument -- they sign a bunch of expensive dudes, some of whom are dirtbags.

6)"johnson, arod and sheffield" did not figure into this team? silly-thye make more than several teams.

I meant that they were not the huge contributors that they usually are. Johnson stunk all year despite his win total, Sheffield was hurt for most of the year, and A-Rod had an off year (by his standards). So it was easy to ignore the contributions of these three dickheads.

7)don't give me that crap that i only bust on the yankees when their season ends. it is just that that is when it hurts the most.

True. I'll give you both of these points. But why then would you choose to hurt your friend? Or were you just trying to enlighten me?

i have been drinking?very "scientific." i suspect i hurt your feelings because i insulted your team. grow up.

8) Well, yeah, maybe, sure, it stung a little bit. But what compelled me to respond was not pain but disbelief that you would show so little class by jumping all over me when my team was down. Grow up? Yeah, I guess getting emotionally invested in sporting teams is pretty immature. Maybe you've grown up enough that you've moved past that point (although I doubt it as far as the Jets are concerned). I can't disagree with the notion that rooting for a team is, as they say, essentially rooting for laundry. It's insane.

I also know that I've lost my connection to the Knicks; it's easy to lose when your team goes through a long, frustrating period of mediocrity. It's human. But I still have my Yankees, hanging on by a thread. I hope I don't grow up too much more.

And have you been drinking? If not you're up at least $8 on me.