Lupica’s Boss Sendoff Meets Expectations

Mike Lupica is the type of high-grade A-Hole who shows up at a funeral to make himself be heard blowing hard at the departed.  Today’s column, designed to be a gruff but fair obituary but unintentionally veering headlong into the toll booth of Lupica’s poison soul, is just the latest in a long line of amateurish crap that Lupica has somehow foisted upon the NYC sports community for years.   Lupica, thinking himself the court jester of NY sports but showing himself to be a physical and mental midget that the big boys were loath to acknowledge, couldn’t even be heard in the NY media upon George’s passing and, in true form, appeared on Boston radio to call the man “a bully”.  Finally, two days later, his NY Daily News column appears, which I will NOT link and will only reprint here with my special commentary:

This isn’t about the scorecard being kept now, like the one you keep at the ballpark, putting all the good George Steinbrenner did against the bad, trying to come up with some kind of final score on the man now that he is gone.

I can dig that.  I agree 100%.
This isn’t about how for every Catfish Hunter and Reggie Jackson and Goose Gossage he brought to Yankee Stadium in the 1970s, there came a Dave Collins and Steve Kemp and Steve Trout in the 1980s – “I just won you the pennant!” Steinbrenner told Lou Piniella once. “I got you Steve Trout!” – and how by the end of that decade Steinbrenner looked dumber than Dolan.
Oh I get it, that first paragraph was IRONIC because you said that scorecards were wrong and then you started scoring him.  If there is something that does the dead respect, it’s irony.  Even more clever is the comparison to Dolan, which makes sense if you’re Lupica but not if you have a brain.
Jimmy Dolan: inherited control of Knicks from da-da, never won anything, and gaudily backed lowlife Isaiah Thomas through some of the more infamous scandals in NY professional sports history, and leveraged da-da’s MSG to essentially deep-six what could have been some of the more prestigious real estate developments in Manhattan.
George Steinbrenner: purchased the decrepit Yankee franchise for $150,000 out-of-pocket, turned it around in four years to a contender, won seven championships and piloted a dynasty, built a new stadium and $5B sports empire by pioneering the sports broadcast business, died with his organization as a champion, and is considered by those he touched with his charity and grace as a great human being.
It’s like comparing Lupica to a real journalist.
This isn’t about trying to balance the Steinbrenner who gave so much money to charity and helped so many people against the one who insulted Yogi Berra enough that Yogi stayed away from the Yankees and Yankee Stadium for 14 years.
What’s your excuse, Mike?
This isn’t even about the money, though talking about Steinbrenner without talking about Yankee money is like talking about the Yankees and leaving out the part about Mickey Mantle. Or pinstripes.
Mike went three whole paragraphs before alluding to payroll, a record!
Instead, this is about the real reason why people are talking about George Steinbrenner all over again:
OOOOH, a colon, that means Lupica is doubling-down on the drama:
He was the only owner people came to watch own.
Really?  That’s your thesis?  “Fun to watch”, sort of like Melky Cabrera?

Others have tried since George Steinbrenner came to town, you know they have, tried way too hard, the way Mark Cuban does. Or Danny Snyder of the Redskins. Jerry Jones makes you watch him, but mostly because Jones is down on the sideline trying to look like the coach of the team. Steinbrenner? He was hardly ever on the field at Yankee Stadium. Try to remember seeing him out there before he made that last trip around the field at the All-Star Game of 2008.

Still, when he had his chops, when he was at the top of his voice – whether the Yankees were at the top of baseball or not – he went against everything you ever heard about how nobody comes to watch a manager manage. Or a coach coach his team.

Oh, I get it.  In that sense, I’d love to watch you write your column, Mike, but as you broke crayon after crayon, my patience would probably wear thin.
Or an owner own.
Or, a non-sentencer non-sentence.

It’s like Reggie Jackson, the real game-changer for Steinbrenner, a star made for him and New York, the first free agent in sports worth talking about, says:

“George made owning his team feel like a contact sport.”

Didn’t he, though?

Reggie found out firsthand, getting romanced by Steinbrenner on his way into town, practically getting driven to the city limits when Steinbrenner got tired of him, when Steinbrenner decided that he loved Dave Winfield more. Like some old fool falling for a younger woman.

Lupica normally swarms into gay metaphor when talking about big, black men, so I must commend the man for his consistency here.  The gigantic baseball business point that he misses, while focusing on his own levitating cupid hearts, is that Steinbrenner, pushing into new territory with free agent contracts, was hesitant to sign the 35-year-old Reggie to the expensive multi-year deal he wanted – a decision essential to the ballclub’s future that would become a litmus test for owners and GMs for years to follow.  A whole book could be dedicated by a serious journalist to discuss the implications of that decision.  Lupica prefers gay metaphor.
Reggie went with the Angels. He came back to Yankee Stadium the first time as an Angel and hit a home run – of course – and then the fans down close to the field were turning toward Steinbrenner’s box and pointing and chanting, “Steinbrenner Sucks.” Like it was the owner of the team who had thrown the pitch that Reggie had hit over the wall.
Now those same fans would rather chant about throwing you over the wall.  Isn’t THAT ironic?

When the game was over that night, Reggie was in the lobby at the old Stadium with some friends. The elevator door opened. Steinbrenner. He saw Reggie standing there.

He let the door close without saying a word.

Reggie stayed a while longer, not wanting to leave. It had been a big night for him, he was back at the Stadium, he had hit one out against Ron Guidry. The elevator came back down to the lobby a few minutes later. Doors opened. Steinbrenner. Again.

He let the door close again.

After all the winning they’d done together, and as close as they would be much later in Steinbrenner’s life, now had come this night when it was as if Reggie had won and the owner of the Yankees had lost.

Wow, great story.  I imagine Mrs. Lupica and your genitalia feel the same kind of awkwardness when they meet face-to-face these days.  It’s like you and your soul.

Another night when it was as if Steinbrenner, even upstairs, made people think he was down there in the middle of the ring. You had to be there. You did. You saw guys come to the Yankees and buckle under the pressure of playing for an owner who would call them out in the papers, or to their faces. When that happened, there was an expression for it from the veterans in the Yankee clubhouse.

They said that player had been “Georged.”

So in addition to everything else he was in the old days, Steinbrenner was also a verb.

That’s a fun game, let me try…Lupica’d!

Steinbrenner was present even when he wasn’t.

That makes sense.

It was why part of the sadness of these last years was reading these ridiculous press releases from him. It was seeing people running down to the field, giddy, with some quote they got off him on his way to the car, this aging man who didn’t always recognize old friends, or faces, at the old Stadium even when he was still showing up.

No, Mike, he ignored you that one time last year because he remembered you, not because he forgot you.

He was still the owner, just in name only. Even as there was all this coverage about The Boss of old, instead of an old Boss. As if he were still calling his manager during games, as if he were still the guy Dallas Green finally called “Manager George,” Green’s way of getting himself fired, he’d had enough of Steinbrenner’s meddling.

Jerry Jones is right there on the sideline. The thing about Steinbrenner was he never needed to be. Somehow he was right there for you anyway, even when the television cameras couldn’t find him anywhere. He fired people and bullied people and made you think he’d lost his mind sometimes. It’s all there on the scorecard.

If you saw it all, you know. Of course you weren’t buying your ticket to watch him own. With this owner, it just felt that way sometimes.

Mike Lupica trawls his black heart and can’t do better than to describe the deceased ultimately as a bully, a meddler, a homo, and a spectacle.  You are a douchebag par excellence, Mike Lupica, and may your ears ring through your own afterlife with your own words.
PRINT THIS!

Comments

  1. freaky deaky Joba UFO sighting!!! lol

  2. HOME JUAN!

  3. HAHAHAHAHAHA

    You have the right, to remain GONE

  4. Damn umpires

  5. Lib, they just tossed Gradner for questioning the called strike 2.

  6. HOLY SHIT!

  7. OK ! Colin Curtis 1st home run congrats

  8. Damn. DId he just turn around and ask where it was, or what was the deal?

  9. LB, did you notice if gameday had the called strike 2 in the zone?

  10. thank god for the SWB kids….

  11. They were talking a little bit and I didnt see Gardner say anything but “no it wasnt”. Though I guess he could have said something like, “no it fuckin wasnt and your mother sucks balls.” My lip reading skills are not that good.

  12. That’s pretty awesome that Chad Curtis steps in and bombs.

  13. that takes cujones…walk to the plate after sitting the pine all day with an automatic 0-2 count on you and you go yard – PRICELESS!!!

  14. 5 run lead and Joba on the mound. This aint over

  15. let’s not get carried away – UFO’s era on a bad day is 36.00 – still holding my breath

  16. he is a mess

  17. ” phew ” Joba only gave up one run, could have been worse

  18. 3 hits, 1 walk, era of 9.00 – good day at the office – thank god he didnt fist pump

  19. game day had on the inside paint

  20. thank god … hahahaha

  21. inside paint. Thats where Mr. Umpire had it.

  22. Mo got the spitter by em

  23. Mo = 0.98

  24. WOW Kim Jones has nice knockers – I dont think she was wearing a bra…..I think young Curtis was trying not to look at them during that interview *LOL*

  25. Its so hot I dont even wanna play golf but I am going anyhow.

  26. I was lookin at them fun bags too.

  27. looked to me like the headlights were on hi-beam

  28. If anybody is around throw up an update or 2 on the sox game for me I would appreciate it. It is easier to get here from my phone than espn or anyplace else since I have BBT as one of my favorites.

  29. will do, tiger.

  30. Thanks home slicce

  31. a’s 3
    bosox 1

    Cust dinger of Buchhky

  32. nice shank, sweaty! yabba dabba!

  33. J- A’s-6 Sux-4 top 6th

    lip reading skills-ahahahahahahahahahaha

  34. If the Phillies go after Oswalt, Amaro will be admitting the mistake he made trading Lee.

  35. The facial hair alone earns him a spot on the roster. Look at those acute angles, sharp lines…give the man another chance!

  36. sharp lines-ahahaahaahahaha

  37. Top 9, still 6-4 A’s. 8-9-1 coming up for the Sox. Some dude with a 4+ ERA coming in to close.

  38. final 6-4 a’s

  39. Ralph Houk dead.

  40. Thanks for the updates guys. I got them out on the course and tried to post as “J on the links” and “double bogey” but I kept getting the “internal server error”. I am sure it is my phone and not the site. I have gotten that message alot and I think the only time posts went thru from the phone was when I was in Boca and on my way home from Boca. Not sure if location had anything to do with it but I doubt it since the post from the middle of alligator alley was good.

  41. Houk? there goes #3. Long live Yogi!

  42. hahahaha I said the same thing NEW THREAD!!!

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