Tag Archives: ESPN

Final Score: Mets 1, Fans 0

28 May

May 28, 2016

Today the Mets are celebrating the 30th anniversary of the 1986 World Series Championship team. There will be a great celebration at Citifield with the members of the 86 team reuniting, with highlights, events, and giveaways. However, thanks to the usual incompetence of their owner, Fred Wilpon, most of the team’s fans won’t see any of it. Frankly, Cheap Freddie doesn’t care.

So how did Wilpon mess it up?
1- He scheduled it on the Memorial Day weekend, a time when people have travel plans, or go to the beach, or barbecue. It will be close to 90 degrees here in New York and many people won’t be watching. But that doesn’t matter because…
2- The celebration will take place an hour before the actual game. Problem is, the game is being aired on FOX (which is even worse than ESPN when it comes to ruining games) and they will not be showing the celebration. They may show highlights during the game, but fans want to cheer the players, the classic moments, the plays, everything the celebration has to offer, not a clip dropped in between pitches. The irony is that Fred Wilpon also owns sports channel SNY, which airs the majority of the Met games. They are the Mets home station and had they the rights to air this game they would show every second of the pre-game celebration. But FOX has this game. And Freddie knew it.

So why did New York Mets owner Fred Wilpon schedule the celebration on a day when most people would have other plans and the television network would not show it? Why did he guarantee that most fans won’t see the celebration? He did it because the Mets are playing the Los Angeles Dodgers. The Mets and Dodgers are not heated rivals. They do not have a celebrated history together. The simple, sad truth is the Fred Wilpon is a Dodgers fan. That’s all. This is not a guess or a theory. Freddie has talked and talked about his love of the Dodgers. When the Mets new stadium was built, it was designed as a replica of Ebbets Field, home of the Brooklyn Dodgers. When you enter, the lobby is a tribute to- you guessed it- the Brooklyn Dodgers, with pictures and displays of the Dodgers, and the highlight was (and still is) a giant tribute to Jackie Robinson. Jackie never played for the Mets. So the Mets 86 World Series tribute is on the worst possible day simply because New York Mets Team Owner Freddie is a Dodgers fan.


But that’s not all. Awful Fred Wilpon also ruined the day for most of the fans who will be in the stands today. Here’s the next way Wilpon messed it up.
3- The Mets are giving away replica World Series rings to the first 15,000 fans in the stadium. Sounds like a lot, right? Well, no. Citifield will be sold out today and the stadium holds 45,000 fans. So 15,000 fans get rings and 30,000 fans get ugatz. In other words, Fred Wilpon has created an event where it is GUARANTEED that 2/3 of the fans will be given NOTHING but bad feelings. Unless you count an empty wallet, since parking costs $23 and even a hot dog is $6.25, highest in the major leagues.

The night before was jersey night. ALL fans got a replica jersey. So on the actual celebration day, why cheap out? The Mets don’t even pay for the giveaways. Oh no, not a penny is pried out of Freddie’s iron-clad wallet. These are sponsored. The sponsor pays for these. All the Mets need to do is add to the contract that there be enough giveaway rings for everyone. If the sponsor can’t afford it, get another. This is NEW YORK and this team went to the WORLD SERIES last year. There is no shortage of potential sponsors.

But this is a Fred Wilpon team. Last year they were sponsored by- this is true!- SendInTheClowns. com. Can you imagine a more appropriate company?

clowns mets

So get ready for the Mets Celebration!
Get ready to not see it!
Get ready to not get the free gift!

Wilpon sucks.





You May Not Believe This

18 Jun

June 18, 2013

I brought my car in to the dealer this weekend for some routine maintenance. I expected a $40 oil change; what I got cost me almost $200. I read the receipt but I am still not sure what they did. Is “Kryex” even a word? And I am not entirely convinced that my air freshener needed a 500 mile servicing.

Anyway, I was sitting in the waiting room. It was about 9:30 in the morning and the room was about half full. Including me, there were five of us, all fairly spread out. Two were sitting at the table, using their laptops and taking advantage of the free wi-fi.   One was sitting in a corner using his iPhone for, I think, a game in which small blue blobs eat small red blobs. The fourth was sitting in a chair against the side wall and reading a magazine, and I was sitting against another wall splitting my time between using my iPod (also taking advantage of the free wi-fi) and watching Sports Center on the huge wall-mounted flat screen. Do you know what the main mission of Sports Center is? It is showing people holding up signs at various events that say “Sports Center is next.”             Duke_Sports_Center_Sign          

I was sitting not far from the front door, which was propped open to give us a breeze since the day was warm and a little humid. It was not too uncomfortable unless you were a large man, both fat and tall, wearing a long sleeve shirt, unbuttoned, over a sweat stained t-shirt, with a small baseball cap over a large, round, bald head,  and carrying a small bag of groceries. This was the man who walked down the street, saw the open door and empty chairs, and sat down next to me for a break.

There were four or five other chairs empty but the one next to me was closest to the door and by all appearances this was not a man who liked to move much. I had my hat on the chair and he stood in front of it, nodded, and I removed it so this uninvited man with no business in the dealership could sit down.

I picked up my iPod and suddenly became very occupied with looking occupied.

He did not take the hint.

“You know how far the Key Food is from here?” I grunted that it was maybe four blocks away.
“Three blocks, man, three blocks. But in this heat it feels like about thirty six or forty-one.”

I had no desire to talk to him but he had a habit of tapping me on the arm as he spoke. I suspect he developed that trait over years and years of people ignoring him when he spoke to them.

“I was trying to return this bottle of mustard,” he said and shook his shopping bag, “but the manager gave me a hard time.”

OK, now I was interested, and not just because this story was bound to be entertainingly stupid. Here was a large fat man with a bald head talking about food.

Did I mention that he was black?


Yes, the face was different and the guy by me had a mouth far too small for his face, but in all other respects I felt as if Norm Snackmunch had come out of an Allan Keyes blog and sat right down next to me.

“I had two bottles of Gulden’s spicy brown mustard but one wasn’t spicy enough.”

His story went that he had bought two bottles of spicy mustard and one was fine, perfectly spicy, but the other was not spicy at all, but kind of mild, and he wanted to return it. (When he asked me, I replied that I had no idea what would make a bottle of spicy mustard turn mild. Bad batch? I dunno.) He brought the bottle back to the store and told his story to the manager. For your sake, I have condensed this story but had I continued to write it verbatim, it would have been full of pauses, uh’s, and lots of repetition. This man was not a born storyteller.

As for me, on the one hand I wanted to know what happened at the store with the mustard, but on the other, stronger, saner hand, I really just wanted to hear my name called that my car was ready.

The man asked me, again, what could go wrong with mustard (still had no idea), why wouldn’t the manager give him an exchange (no idea) and if it was still hot outside (no idea.) Then, while talking about how much he loved Gulden’s spicy brown mustard, he reached into the bag and pulled out the bottle with the oddly mild mustard. 

Can you guess what happened?

Can you guess what happened?

It was a bottle of Gulden’s mild yellow mustard.

Believe it or not, and trust me, all I have written today is true, at that moment my name was called and my car was ready and I stood up and began to walk away. The fat guy with the mustard problem, among a few other problems, stood up as well and said he guessed he should get going too. He reached out to shake my hand, and he had a better chance of the manager exchanging his mustard than he had of me shaking his hand, when he was distracted by the water cooler.

“Oooh, free water!” He took out an iced tea can from his bag and filled it with water and walked out. I paid for my car, “Kryex” and all, and left, me and Norman Snackmunch, two ships that passed in the night.

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