Dear Yankees fans who know how to read: STOP THROWING BEER AT PEOPLE
Sports fans are children. Thousands upon thousands of slobbering, screaming, junk food-eating, acceptance-craving attention addicts packed onto the same speeding school bus sucking down alcohol instead of apple juice. Short of the Senate floor, you won’t find a more craven, juvenile, unreliable group of emotionally stunted delinquents in America than you will in an NFL stadium or hockey rink or, worst of all, perched in the bleachers of some crisp, autumn baseball hellscape, where it's Lord of the Flies for people who don’t read books every single night. Just take a peek inside Yankee Stadium this morning if you don’t believe us.
In the past week, the Yankees have won two playoff games and lost three. They’re going home, but that doesn’t matter. Nor does the fact it happened at the hands of their dreaded rivals. Nor anything else really. Win or lose, the result has been the same: Following every game this postseason, Yankees fans—riders of 27 Word Series coattails and the sports equivalent of a My Super Sweet 16 birthday celebrant—have gone completely, unequivocally feral. There’s your typical alpha idiots…
And the same old entitled gasbags…
But this year has seen the advent of an even more charming trend: Throwing $12 dollar beers. At opposing fans. At opposing players. At their own mothers if they accidentally brought Diet Coke instead of the regular swill down to their lightless basement lairs. A classic case of dumbass-see, dumbass-do, it all began when this knuckle-dragger vent viral for throwing a beer at a lone As fan in his section following the Yanks’ Wild Card win last week:
And then the internet went ahead and TRIED TO REDEEM HIM. ARE YOU SERIOUS? PUT HIM IN A CIRCUS CANNON AND SHOOT HIM INTO THE MOON. WE HAVE ENOUGH ASSHOLES DOWN HERE ALREADY. But nope, good guy. They’re “friends” now. Don’t worry about it. It has nothing to do with the fact this gaping maw of decency was going to end up with 150 hours of community service and a lifetime Yankee Stadium ban for filming himself bullying some guy trying to watch a baseball game. Definitely not.
Then, the Yankees went to Boston—home of the good, hearty folk who called Adam Jones things you can’t even print in a Klan pamphlet—and mostly behaved themselves. Weird what the threat of Comm Ave. curb stomp will do to all that Bronx bravado. Back on home turf on Tuesday and soured by a season-ending effort that was apparently everyone except a Yankees team who has underperformed all season’s fault, however, and the beer bros, being the cardboard cutouts that they are, decided to copy their pinstriped hero’s little parlor trick, hurling beers at Red Sox fans…
. . . And Red Sox pitchers alike.
On second thought, apologies to the children of America. Even they—pea-brained little punks who who think 2+2 = 5 and aspire to one day own a Super Soaker—know better than to THROW THEIR FOOD AT STRANGERS. FFS, people. Come on.
Now you may think there’s some deep-lying bias here. That a Yankees fan must have wronged me long ago. That I should probably tell my therapist about it. But you’re wrong. The only horse I have in this race is the fabric of f—king society. These people will pull your faith in humanity out of your backside seconds after a go-ahead RBI in the 8th restored it. They will preach "teamwork" while slamming their seats all the way back in United economy. There’s potentially apocalyptic problems swirling in every damn direction right now. Baseball is not one of them. But baseball fans, especially these pre-ice age hominids who are afraid of fire and still list Boondock Saints as their favorite movie, are certainly doing a damn good job giving them a face and a name and a home address and a criminal record.
So here’s an idea: Stop throwing beer. Stop posting videos of people throwing beer. Stop being everything that’s the wrong with the world. If Yankees fans can’t do that, kick them out. Make the team play in an empty park. Ruin it for everyone. Drain the whole damn cesspool into the river and flood the Upper East Side for all I care. Lord knows (not that he’s got much to do with it) these ingrates have won more than enough already.