Good for You

I was trying to think of some clever poem that voiced my hatred of the Yankees, but I quickly realized that when my heart is filled with disgust, witty rhyming schemes don’t really come to mind. I’m not all that surprised that the Yankees won their 27th World Championship last night. Spending one billion dollars on player salaries in the past five years was bound to payoff at some point.

I used to be so adamant about the MLB instituting a salary cap, but as I’ve matured as a great baseball mind, I think I’ve changed my thinking. There are already several things that make baseball unique among other team sports. Take these for example:
- It’s the only team sport that’s not restricted by a timer.
- It’s the only sport where the manager wears a uniform.
- It’s the sport with the most number of games in a season (162).
- It’s the only sport where the All-Star game decides home field advantage.

The fact that baseball doesn’t have a salary cap is just another beautiful oddity of the game. The fact that year after year, the Yankees spend more money than any other team in the league, but haven’t won a championship since 2000, shows you that it takes more than money to be a champion. In 2009, the Yankees payroll (this is just player salaries) was $208,097,414 which is about 8x’s more than the Pittsburgh Pirates team payroll of $25,197,000. Obviously there is some correlation between money and success.

I’m happy that the MLB hasn’t succumbed to peer-pressure and instituted a salary cap. It makes baseball all that more distinct and exceptional. And…when the 67 million dollar Twins beat the 208 million dollar Yankees next year to clinch the American League Pennant, its going to be all the sweeter.

Witty or not, I’m going to attempt to release some of my fury toward the Yankees through this poem.

The Yankees for Dummies

The Yankees are the champions of two-thousand nine,
No frowns in their clubhouse, they’re all feelin’ fine.
Not since two-thousand have they tasted this glory,
Not in nine years, and not since Joe Torre.
But Girardi did lead them through ups and through downs,
Though some of them acted like immature clowns.
They’ve got CC the fatty, and a class act named Jeter.
They’ve got a sell-out name Tex, and A-Rod the cheater.
There’s Burnett and Posada who can’t get along,
And Godzilla Matsui who’s big in Hong Kong.
Damon and Swisher play outfield each night,
And a grown man named Melky? now that’s just not right!
Don’t forget Robinson who’s first name is a last,
These are the Yankees, a smug, prideful cast.
To their fans in the world, I say “good for you.”
“Go have a party, and let George buy that too!”