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The Dugout: Odyssey of a Yankees Fan

Earlier today, PostmanE posted this fascinating statistical breakdown of what the Yankees really paid Roger Clemens.

Do we, as a culture, spend too much money on sports? Seems like an obvious "yes" to me, but we do a lot of other stupid things too. At some point one just has to embrace the madness. I hate to single out New York here -- granted, the 2007 Clemens deal was one of the most egregious in the history of sports, but the Yankees aren't the only team whose salary cap is a slap in the face to the working-class fans who throw their money at baseball without a second thought.

Today's Dugout, after the jump, happens to be about a Yankees fan, but it could probably apply to a fan of just about any other team out there.

The Dugout

**OnlineHost** You have entered the Yankees Stadium Circa 1938 Chatroom.

Son: There he is, Pops! There he is! Comin' outta the stadium!

Father: Well? You gonna stand there or are you gonna go say hi?

Son: I don't know. I don't really wanna.

Father: Don't gimme that bullpucky. Just go over there, say hi. Tell him he played a great game.

Son: Um! Um, hi Mr. DiMaggio!

Joltin_Joe: /shakes hand

Hey, kiddo! Have fun at the game today?

Son: y-yes mr. dimaggio

Joltin_Joe: /signs baseball

Here ya go, kid. Thanks for comin' out to see us today. Lemme tell ya somethin', we might not win every game, but we sure will give ya yer money's worth. Stay outta trouble, yeah?

**OnlineHost** Joltin_Joe has left the chatroom.

Father: He's right, ya know. The Yanks are a helluva team. You give to them, they'll give back to you. Remember that, buddy.

Son: Thanks, Dad.

**OnlineHost** You have entered the Bronx, New York, circa 1959 chatroom.

Wife: Honey...what are we gonna do?

Husband: /sigh

I dunno, babe.

Wife: Well you gotta do somethin'! Ya father's been in the ground five years, and we're still payin' his hospital bills! Even if I keep workin' doubles at the diner, we won't have enough.

Husband: C'maan, don't talk about my pops. I don't wanna talk right now.

Wife: You're the head of this household! What are the kids gonna do? Ya gotta make somethin' happen!

Husband: /takes coat off hook

I'm goin' out. Don't wait up.

Wife: Oh, what? To another Yankees game? Why? Ya always go by yaself, ya stumble home drunk as a buzzard, and we never get to see ya! Grow up for once!

Husband: I swear to God, don't talk to me like that. Just let me be.

/puts on coat

/slams door

**OnlineHost** Husband has left the chatroom.

Wife: /buries head in hands

**OnlineHost** You have entered the Bronx, New York, circa 2001 chatroom.

Wife: /munches on spoonful of dog food

Husband: /stares at wife

/drops spoon in bowl, begins to weep

Baby, I'm so sorry.

Wife: Don't start cryin'! There's no use in cryin' about it! All sortsa folks get tough breaks, and we're one of 'em!

Husband: /sniff

I shouldn'ta been outta the house so much. Shouldn't a gone to the Stadium every night. We coulda saved that money, put it in the bank, and I could take care o'ya now like I wish I could.

Wife: There's no coulda, it's just life.

/takes husband's hand

I love ya, Marvin.

Husband: God, Baby, I loves ya too. More than the whole world.

**OnlineHost** You have entered the Bronx, New York Present Day chatroom.

Man: Yeah, I'm doin' just fine...yeah, I know...yeah, thanks for comin' all the way up here for it. Yeah, yeah, the flowers were great.

Man: Oh, I know. She was really somethin'...I gotta go, okay?

/hangs up phone

Man: /sighs

puts on coat

**OnlineHost** Welcome to Yankees Stadium Chat!

Man: Think I musta spent about 15 large in this place over the years.

Man: What was it my kid was sayin'? That they're payin' Roger Clemens 15 large for every pitch he throws?

Man: Well hell, ya Yanks. I gave ya everything I got. It wasn't much, but it was what I had. Let's see what ya do with my money, Roger.

OldLOL: /winds up

Man: /watches eagerly

OldLOL: /strains hamstring, ends career

Man: /sits, motionless

Man: ...

What a friggin' rat trap, this world.

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