The return of Lewis Grizzard Wednesday

Much to the chagrin of Mrs. Lugnut Dawg, baseball season is nearly here. Even if it’s preseason games, I still find myself watching games on TV at night. 

Spring also means the rekindling of a passion of any true southerner – hating the New York Yankees. Lewis wasn’t a fan of the Yanks either, especially their late owner George Steinbrenner. 

That Crazy Yankee Owner

    
It may be time for baseball to declare Yankee owner George Steinbrenner whacko before he hurts somebody, or himself. 

Ever seen a guy more squirrelly than George? He has all that money and he owns the world’s most prestigious baseball franchise and he runs it like Duffy’s Tavern. 

We all know the facts. He hires manager “X” and then fires him and brings in Billy Martin, and they fight and argue and scratch for awhile, and so Steinbrenner fires Billy Martin, and brings in manager “Y.” 

Manager “Y” doesn’t suit him, so he fires him and brings in Billy Martin again. Repeat all this four times and you’ve got the Chinese fire drill that George Steinbrenner runs in New York. 

I know what some people may be saying. They may be saying, what business is all this of yours? If George Steinbrenner wants to bring in Mr. Ed to manage his ballclub, he owns it, so let him do it. 

In most instances, I would agree, but we’re talking about the New York Yankees here, and the New York Yankees are an American tradition. 

For decades there have been basically two kinds of people in this country, those who love the Yankees and those who hate them. 

I belong to the latter group. I hate the Yankees. I’ve been hating them 30 years, as a matter of fact. 

I have a cousin who was a big Yankee fan when we were growing up. I despised it when he came to my house to visit. 

“The Yankees are going great, aren’t they?” he would say, with that smirk that all Yankee fans had. 

“May all your children be born with pinstripes on their bottoms,” I would reply. 

I’ve been trying to contact my cousin to get even for all those smirks since Steinbrenner ruined his beloved Yankees, but the coward won’t return my calls. 

Perhaps Steinbrenner isn’t legitimately crazy. Perhaps he simply has a failing memory and forgets he’s already tried Billy Martin over and over again when he brings him back ever so often to manage the Yankees. 

“I would like to announce I am bringing in a bright new kid named Martin to run my team,” Steinbrenner tells the press. 

“Excuse me,” asks a reporter, “haven’t you done this before?” 

“I can’t remember,” answers Steinbrenner. 

I realize there are bigger problems in the world than the way George Steinbrenner runs his baseball team. 

This is not Reagan’s visit to Bitburg nor his trade embargo on Nicaragua. 

This isn’t the Middle East nor an artificial heart, a network takeover nor even another one of those shuttle shots to space. 

But it is important to the portion of our society that has built a life around hating the Yankees. 

What George Steinbrenner has done is unforgiveable. With him at the helm, it’s not fun to hate the Yankees anymore. 

You just sort of feel sorry for them.

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