Fuck That, I Hate The Playas

Fuck That, I Hate The Playas

People who don't like sports don't understand Sports Hate. I have Sports Hate. I have it a lot. My father had Sports Hate and I suspect that his father before him had it too. I am certain his (my father's) mother had it. She's the one who sweetly told my father "tell the grandchildren I used to love them." Awww.

Anyway, my ancestral family Sports Hate is mostly directly towards the New York Yankees. They were, are, and will always be evil. Fascistic. Inimical. Like unarmed Dick Cheneys in pinstripes. My father has a slightly different problem, an eternal Sports Grudge against the LA Dodgers. They abandoned him as a child. Moved to California to start a new family which they loved more than him. But that's not the same for me. This is about Hate and Loathing at 33rd and 7th Avenue.

I abhor the NY Rangers. I still hate Barry Beck. It still eats me up inside that they won the Cup in '94 and thus stole from me the chant "nine-teen for-ty!" I'm an Islanders fan and what's bad for the Rangers is good for me. Yesterday the New Jersey Devils neatly dispatched with the Rangers with a four game sweep in the first round. Never mind that the Isles didn't even make the playoffs. The Rangers had to pack up the skates and dust off the golf clubs and I couldn't be happier.

"Shoot the puck, Bar-ry. Shoot the puck!"

"Devil Win! Devils...Errrr. I mean, Rangers Lose! Rangers Lose!"


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