There will come a time when “The Chad News Bears” doesn’t have to smack the Mets around like what keeps happening. But it will not be this day.
Years ago, during my bouncer days, there was an annoying jerk by the name of Mick who everybody had to deal with all the time. Apparently, he’d been a big shot back in the day, and didn’t realize he was now a washed up old ex-whatever. His ego wouldn’t let him see that it wasn’t the mid-eighties anymore.
Mick had a big mouth, was a close talker, had a loud braying laugh, bugged all the girls, annoyed all the guys, and basically did everything he could to make every single night all about him. He never quite crossed the line to get himself tossed, because he wanted to swagger around like a tough guy, even though he was far from a big dude.
One night, we caught Mick stealing tips from the bartender. That was it, Mick got tossed. But it didn’t stop him from being annoying. In a matter of days, he was soon banned from all the watering holes in the neighborhood for stealing tips some more. He didn’t understand how he was caught so quickly after getting away with it in one place for so long.
Everybody in the bar industry talks to each other, if you didn’t know, we’re all friends. If you make staff in one place angry, all the other bars know about it within a few hours. Just a friendly tip for those of you who might not know that.
Yes, this will be a Yankees/Mets allegory, bear with me. You can probably see it shaping up.
Mick blamed me for his troubles. I was the bad guy because I warned my friends in other bars to watch out for him. Mick began talking trash about me all over the neighborhood. Keep in mind he’s twice my age, half my size, bereft of supporters, and addled of a sense of reality.
Come the night we both ended up in the same place for last call, and Mick was desperate to fight me. I just ignored him. He wasn’t worth it. I couldn’t look like the good guy for crushing a little old man, so I turned my back on him and enjoyed a night with my friends instead.
The Mets, lately, are running a campaign here in New York more or less saying that “True New Yorkers” are Mets fans. This is an effective point, if you are trying to get me to choke on my coffee. So, Mets, you are intent on continuing to bug me. Like Loudmouth Mick, you can’t take a hint that you’re in over your head.
True New Yorkers wear Pinstripes. Yes, Mets, one of your fifteen different jerseys have stripes on them, but everybody knows you are just emulating the Yankees. You had your day in the mid-eighties, good for you, but the Yankees were there before you and have been back again since. We don’t need tons of different jersey styles in a desperate bid for fans’ money, we have two: Home and Away. Pinstripes or Greys. Just numbers, no names. Nothing fancy, just baseball. That’s “True” New York.
I get it Mets, you think all you have to do is swagger around running your mouth to be a “True New Yorker.” What you miss is that True New Yorkers don’t run their mouths unless you’ve really pissed them off, and they will back up what they say. True New Yorkers don’t try to impress, they simply exist.
We don’t win them all, but we don’t whine about losing. We get knocked down, but you better be out of the room when we get up. We will put up with a lot of crap, and we’ll bust your chops a little bit if you bug us, but if you presume to tell us we need to be like you to be a “True New Yorker” well we will just have to cut off your attention.
True New Yorkers demand the best of everything. We work hard for it, we deserve it, and the last time we checked, the Mets are not the best. Great, you won the Subway Series that time last season. Who won when it counted? Fantastic, you have a couple championships. We have 25 more.
True New Yorkers have been here long enough to not have to prove that’s who they are. Just like the Yankees. Even when we lose, we’re still the best. We will not even try to engage you, Mets, that only helps you out. And you don’t deserve any more attention from us. Get out of the damn way, Mets, we’re heading to Yankee Stadium. That’s where you’ll find True New Yorkers, no matter where they’re from.