I’ve been doing an enormous amount of kitchen prep for the descent of my brood for holiday dinner on Sunday so I’ve had a lot of time to contemplate what follows while grating potatoes, halving Brussels sprouts, boiling cranberries and separating egg yolks for cran/raspberry-key lime pie (I will use the whites tomorrow for a salmon caviar egg white omelet; I’ve provided the recipe for it in years past but will also engift you with it below when I’m finished commenting on the topic at hand).
I’ve been reasonably assiduous in my perusal of the many comments accreting on the web about the Sherman-Jeter cabal’s virtual destruction not only of the Feesh franchise itself but of the Macondo fan base, this latter perhaps the most damaged community of the pair. The whole sordid process suggests to me a twin quasar, with one black hole (the franchise) sucking an orbiting star (the fan base) into its lightlessness while emitting a dying scream of betrayal and indignation. Much of what I have to say below will consist of reportage of all the stupid things the net’s most clueless fans have had to say, as well as a few perceptive comments by the scarce lucid among them.
Consider that Jeter has invested $25 million of his own money in the team, and is paying himself back $5 million per year to do a job he’s never done before. This means he will have recouped his own investment in five years, whereupon anything this bunch of jackals can make on the resale of the ruins of the Feesh will be his gravy. Among all the investers in his group, he is the only one who is guaranteed to profit. He may be an asterisk but he is no fool.
Which is not to say there are no fools within his event horizon. One of the most obnoxious comments on the ongoing Feesh fiasco, and one of the most-oft-repeated, is the “Marlins fans don’t support their team!” meme. Vectored by the ignorantly sanctimonious, this dumb assertion – yes, a comment can be both true and stupid at the same time – discounts how four successive ownerships have systematically insulted local fans and destroyed both their faith and interest in the franchise while MLB’s cretinous brainstem trust either permitted their fire sales and payroll dumps or egged them on to them. These morons often cite the continued sizable attendance figures of, say, the Cubs or Pirates, teams with 100-year-plus traditions, as if the gullibility of others who shell out to watch an inferior product should be the yardstick by which all fan behavior is measured. Many opine “you can’t have a winning team if nobody buys tickets” to which the obvious response is “nobody wants to buy tickets to see consistent losers unless you’re a moron.”
The other repetitive idiot’s meme is the “Marlins fans have won two World Series while Cubs fans had to wait 106 years” refrain, and a variety of corollaries. First of all, what Cubs fan this side of the central Caucasus ackcherley waited 106 years for them to win? My guess is the Cubs must have had a lot of fans who look like this….
…waiting around all that time to see a winner who then hung around to whine about how long it took and how grateful Feesh fans ought to be.
By contrast, the last time the Feesh sniffed the postseason was 2003, a mere fifteen years ago, and before that 1997, 21 years ago. I would point out that a 15 year wait is harder on real live fans than a 106-year wait is on dead ones. On the other hand, many current Feesh fans looked like this…
….if even that well defined the last time the Feesh won one of their many coveted championships. I don’t think my grandson had even been conceived yet.
Anyway, I would sum up my observations by asserting that people who don’t really know anything about what life was like under Wayne Huizinga and Scrooge McLoria really have no right to pass judgment on how Feesh fans have, if not abandoned the franchise, then been driven away from it. As this battered, exploited and abused franchise prepares to set its alltime low attendance record for a season while those of us with special glasses can see swarms of John Shirley’s akishra (from his horror masterpiece Wetbones) sucking on the lid of Macondo Banana Massacre Field like inverted hydras in pondwater, all with faces resembling Derek Jeter’s, I have no doubt that the voices of the sanctimonious and the stupid will continue to rise in a chorus of blame-the-victim chastisement. Well, stupid is as stupid does. I really don’t care anymore.
However, fine cuisine still appeals to me. Here’s that recipe I promised, more or less:
In the evening, mix one heaping teaspoon of warmed and softened cream cheese with a half teaspoon of fresh finely chopped dill, a dash of salt and pepper and two heaping teaspoons of sour cream in a small dessert cup. Cover with plastic wrap and leave in the fridge overnight to macerate.
In the morning, add a heaping teaspoon (or more, to taste) of fresh salmon roe (also known as ikura to sushi aficionados) to the mix along with a half teaspoon of finely diced onion. Prepare a two to three egg omelet as you usually would. When the omelet is set shut orf the burner immediately and allow to cool just a bit, then spoon the ikura over one side of the omelet, fold the other side over it and serve. Oh boy.