Buying an Umbrella in New York

So, I have this New York tradition — every time I come to town I buy a flimsy and wildly overpriced umbrella in some vaguely shady store that sells preposterous New York souvenirs like a miniature Statue of Liberty with Donald Trump’s face on it. I call this a tradition; mostly it’s a necessity because I NEVER remember to pack an umbrella, and then ALWAYS find myself caught in the New York rain about 27 blocks from where I need to be. I have, through the years, purchased enough cheap New York umbrellas to dome Seattle, not that these umbrellas actually WOULD dome.

Seattle since they are custom made to blow inside out roughly 12 seconds after purchase.

In any case, I walked into this store on Seventh Avenue to purchase TWO of these New York classic umbrellas (since this time I managed to get my whole family stuck in the rain with me). And I walked smack into the middle of one of those beautiful, sarcastic, and movie-like New York conversations. You should know up front that I love New York. I love the little things.
I love the rhythms, the crustiness, the smoke rising from the vents, the smells of whatever it is the street vendors are REALLY selling, the death-defying cab rides, the tabloid wars, the

revolving doors, the ludicrous prices, the self- reverence, the way so many New Yorkers assume that everyone who lives outside of the city lives on a farm, the pastrami piled high enough to block the sun. And as much as anything, I love New York conversations — if you keep your ears open in the city, you will catch Nora Ephron scenes and Bruce Springsteen lyrics and Martin Scorsese sequences.

Anyway, I walked in on this great conversation built around the Yankees and the signing of Mark Teixeira. As you might guess, there’s a slightly different reaction to the signing INSIDE the city than there is out. I would say that outside New York there are a few people who seem — oh, what’s the word? — let’s say, “perturbed” by the Yankees’ recent spending spree. C.C. Sabathia for $161 million. A.J. Burnett for $82.5 million. Teixeira for $180 million. Yeah, it has inspired Black Plague panic throughout the land, mass hysteria, calls for inquiries and salary caps, and the formation of brute squads. I guess the general hum is best summed up by Roy Firestone, who understatedly called the signing of Teixeira, “a dark day for sports in America.”

Much like I love New York, I also get a huge kick out of the hand-wringing, town crying, and generally overwrought reaction to the Yankees and these Brewster’s Millions type of sprees. Sure it’s unfair. Sure it’s annoying and even a bit depressing to see a team like the Yankees (or the Red Sox or the Mets or the Angels — hey, lots of teams try to buy happiness) rake in millions and millions more than other teams and then spend that money on securing the best players, not
unlike Mr. Potter taking control of the bank during the Depression.

But I love the New York frenzy for two reasons. One, I think baseball is much more fun when the Yankees are a truly despicable team that every non-Yankee fan in America can hate without conscience. There were too many shades of gray in 1998, when the Yankees were a pretty likable bunch, and again in 2001 when the World Series was going on while Ground Zero still burned. It’s more fun when the Yankees do stuff like this and give us a clear-cut, pro wrestling type of villain.

Joe Posnanski is a sports journalist whose prose is always a treat.

[Ed. note: Due to space reasons, we could not print Joe’s entire blog. To read the rest (another 1,500 words or so — and we recommend that you do), go to his site.]