New Yuck

The Cubs hope to capitalize on their momentus, chillbump-inducing brand of total team baseball Orbitz travel points as they head east to beautiful new Citi Field to play the godawful NY Mets, whose only bit of good news is getting David Wright back from injury.

Anyone who listens to Pat and Ron call games on the 50,000 watt blowtorch, WGN Radio 720, knows that Ronnie has no love for the Mets, and hated every second of every minute spent in Shea Stadium due to bad food, bad vibes, and a torched toupe. My Dad went to Shea a couple of times to see the Cubs, and verified that it was indeed a rat-hole, and staffed with zombie-eyed Queens residents, one of whom flat out rejected my Dad's request for a hot dog. It went something like this:

Dad: "Um, hello. Let me just get a hot dog and a beer."

Woman working concessions: "No."

Dad: "What? No?"

Woman: "We ain't got none"

Dad: "Ain't got none of what? The beer or the hot dog?"

Woman: "Yeah"

Dad: "Well, which one is it?"

Woman: "Both"

This exchange sums up Shea nicely, I think. And that big dumb Apple.

I'm out of town this weekend, but I'll try to check in with the usual pinpoint analysis of America's Team.

To everyone in NYC: you think you're cool, but your town smells like hot garbage. You have soul-sucking new media jobs that require you to attend themed parties. You make $80 K a year, but you live in a Park Slope walk-up with 5 roommates and still struggle with the rent. You and your friends are all morally bankrupt, and all the cocaine and PBR in the world won't keep the demons from clawing your eyes out on your deathbed.