Confederate

One of my good friends, who is also a staunch Met fan, admitted something horrible to me last night. I think he felt guilty and was confessing his sin, but I wish he had gone to a priest, as I am horrified to hear that he actually attended the Yankee parade last week! There was some lame explanantion but I stopped listening and just proceeded to pound my pint of Brooklyn Winter Lager*

he probably shouted something disgusting like "hey Jeets!" or "hip hop Jorge!"

This rivals my other friend’s discpicable actions a few years ago. He also bleeds Mets royal blue and is my partner in misery with Mets season tickets. One night a few years ago, on the Upper East Side, we ran into Roger Clemens, who was one game away from winning his 300th game. As BP walked up to the cheater, I expected some clever anti-Yankee remark. Instead, I was appalled at the betrayel that fell before my ears…

Mets fan extraordinare exclaimed "Good Luck Rocket!"

The Yankees are pure evil. Period.

*Since when is the “seasonal beer” a winter Ale, the first week of November? This was more disturbing to me then when I ordered a Sam Seasonal on Labor Day and was poured an Oktoberfest.