Friggin’ Los Angeles.
No. Seriously. Friggin’ LA. We might go stronger, sure, but it is a family newspaper and we are able to go no further than that. Friggin’ LA. Friggin’ LA. FRIGGIN’ LA!
We knew this already, folks, however the country tilts left — and that has nothing within the least to do with politics. It tilts left, it tilts west, it tilts toward California, and currently it really tilts toward Southern California.
The Lakers won a title in 2020. So did the Dodgers. The Rams won one a yr later. The Kings have won two Stanley Cups since we last won anything within the 4 major sports around here. All the celebs go there. LeBron went there. Mookie Betts went there, and stayed there. Matthew Stafford went there. Freddie Freeman. Anthony Davis. Hell, Shohei Ohtani has picked LA twice! It’s countless. It’s relentless.
And now they’ve Yoshinobu Yamamoto, too.
It’s amazing. It’s infuriating. All along, it gave the impression of the Mets and the Yankees were gearing up for the primary true intracity arms race of their shared history. Steve Cohen flew to Japan, and hosted Yamamoto here. Brian Cashman and Aaron Boone spoke of Yamamoto in hushed, reverent tones, the Yankees wined him and dined him. Each teams went after the Japanese star with open wallets and willing checkbooks.
And it didn’t matter.
Latest York, Latest York?
Second place, third place (perhaps).
LA wins again.
Friggin’ LA.
This one hurts because for certainly one of the few times ever, Latest York can share the identical frustration. Yankees fans and Mets fans can get up Friday morning and wonder: what about us? What about Latest York? What in regards to the lure of town that never sleeps, A-number-one, top-of-the-heap, king-of-the hill, all of that?
What’s happened here?
The Yankees offered $300 million to Yamamoto — who, it must be remembered, has yet to throw a significant league pitch. The Mets offered $325 million. The Yankees are the Yankees, a live-action storehouse of baseball history. The Mets don’t have that, but they did have the very best bid. Or at the very least tied for it.
The Dodgers offered $325 million, too.
Yamamoto selected the Dodgers. He did this on the heels of Ohtani doing the identical, running to Dodger Stadium for $700 million, and he did this without the Mets and the Yankees ever being serious players for him.
That is what it appears like to be Pittsburgh.
That is what it appears like to be Cleveland.
At once, Los Angeles is where the celebs need to be. They need the sun. They need the surf. They need the movie stars and the starlets. Possibly they need fans who think it’s cool to have winning sports teams but aren’t fueled by the need of them. Whatever it’s, whatever it’s been, it’s jarring. It’s sobering. The Latest York teams wanted Yamamoto. They recruited him. They romanced him. They were happily prepared to pay him.
He goes to Los Angeles anyway.
Goes to friggin’ LA.
Sixty-six years after California pilfered the Dodgers and the Giants immediately from us, the Golden State remains to be torturing us, still taunting us. Look: perhaps Yamamoto might be more bark than bite, perhaps it’ll prove he wasn’t quite equal to the furious pursuit. Doesn’t matter. It still stings. The Yankees and Mets wanted him, pursued him, were willing to pay him an absurd sum of money.
Didn’t make a difference. At. All.
Off he goes to LA, and the Mets and Yankees at the moment are forced to scramble to Plan B, and Plan C, and Plan Q. It’s the way in which of the world now. The dimensions is tipped left, it’s tipped west, it’s tipped toward California. We’re perpetual bridesmaids, perennial also-rans. All of the leaves are brown here, and the sky is gray. It’s protected and warm in LA.
And bursting with stars. Add Yoshinobu Yamamoto to the list. Friggin’ LA.
Friggin’ Los Angeles.
No. Seriously. Friggin’ LA. We might go stronger, sure, but it is a family newspaper and we are able to go no further than that. Friggin’ LA. Friggin’ LA. FRIGGIN’ LA!
We knew this already, folks, however the country tilts left — and that has nothing within the least to do with politics. It tilts left, it tilts west, it tilts toward California, and currently it really tilts toward Southern California.
The Lakers won a title in 2020. So did the Dodgers. The Rams won one a yr later. The Kings have won two Stanley Cups since we last won anything within the 4 major sports around here. All the celebs go there. LeBron went there. Mookie Betts went there, and stayed there. Matthew Stafford went there. Freddie Freeman. Anthony Davis. Hell, Shohei Ohtani has picked LA twice! It’s countless. It’s relentless.
And now they’ve Yoshinobu Yamamoto, too.
It’s amazing. It’s infuriating. All along, it gave the impression of the Mets and the Yankees were gearing up for the primary true intracity arms race of their shared history. Steve Cohen flew to Japan, and hosted Yamamoto here. Brian Cashman and Aaron Boone spoke of Yamamoto in hushed, reverent tones, the Yankees wined him and dined him. Each teams went after the Japanese star with open wallets and willing checkbooks.
And it didn’t matter.
Latest York, Latest York?
Second place, third place (perhaps).
LA wins again.
Friggin’ LA.
This one hurts because for certainly one of the few times ever, Latest York can share the identical frustration. Yankees fans and Mets fans can get up Friday morning and wonder: what about us? What about Latest York? What in regards to the lure of town that never sleeps, A-number-one, top-of-the-heap, king-of-the hill, all of that?
What’s happened here?
The Yankees offered $300 million to Yamamoto — who, it must be remembered, has yet to throw a significant league pitch. The Mets offered $325 million. The Yankees are the Yankees, a live-action storehouse of baseball history. The Mets don’t have that, but they did have the very best bid. Or at the very least tied for it.
The Dodgers offered $325 million, too.
Yamamoto selected the Dodgers. He did this on the heels of Ohtani doing the identical, running to Dodger Stadium for $700 million, and he did this without the Mets and the Yankees ever being serious players for him.
That is what it appears like to be Pittsburgh.
That is what it appears like to be Cleveland.
At once, Los Angeles is where the celebs need to be. They need the sun. They need the surf. They need the movie stars and the starlets. Possibly they need fans who think it’s cool to have winning sports teams but aren’t fueled by the need of them. Whatever it’s, whatever it’s been, it’s jarring. It’s sobering. The Latest York teams wanted Yamamoto. They recruited him. They romanced him. They were happily prepared to pay him.
He goes to Los Angeles anyway.
Goes to friggin’ LA.
Sixty-six years after California pilfered the Dodgers and the Giants immediately from us, the Golden State remains to be torturing us, still taunting us. Look: perhaps Yamamoto might be more bark than bite, perhaps it’ll prove he wasn’t quite equal to the furious pursuit. Doesn’t matter. It still stings. The Yankees and Mets wanted him, pursued him, were willing to pay him an absurd sum of money.
Didn’t make a difference. At. All.
Off he goes to LA, and the Mets and Yankees at the moment are forced to scramble to Plan B, and Plan C, and Plan Q. It’s the way in which of the world now. The dimensions is tipped left, it’s tipped west, it’s tipped toward California. We’re perpetual bridesmaids, perennial also-rans. All of the leaves are brown here, and the sky is gray. It’s protected and warm in LA.
And bursting with stars. Add Yoshinobu Yamamoto to the list. Friggin’ LA.
