Last night, at the new Yankee Stadium, the Steinbrenner family proved — once and for all and for all of eternity — why they are the most obnoxious family ownership in all of sport.  There was a public unveiling of the “George Steinbrenner bronze memorial” in monument park, and Steinbrenner’s plaque was bigger than Babe Ruth’s and Lou Gehrig’s and Joe DiMaggio’s and and Yogi Berra’s and Mickey Mantle’s plaques combined!

What gall.

What terrible bad taste.

Did we come expect any less from a family that worships money over performance?

Once again, business trumps talent — to the true detriment of us all.

How is it possible to love the Yankees while loathing the ownership?

Would it have been so bad to have Steinbrenner’s plaque be a little smaller than the great players surrounding him who actually wore the pinstripes and won the games?

Or, if a smaller Steinbrenner plaque is just too elegant and too much of an insult to the memory of the man who ruined modern baseball by overpaying middling talent and running afoul of the law — why couldn’t the family just match the size of the other monuments so George might fit in with everyone instead having him caw, once again, and forevermore, in death from his grave, “Look at me, ma!  I made it big!  Really, really, grotesquely, big!”

Monument park used to be a reverent and revered place to visit before a game — and now the brutish memory of George Steinbrenner stains that sacred place as well.

Steinbrenner cruelly tore down the House that Ruth Built and replaced it with a modern monstrosity; and now he’s gone and done it again by posthumously putting his big, fat, oversize, head smack in the faces of the fans who hated him with a passion when he was alive, and who now cannot quickly enough forget him to the dustbin of flashy wannabees where he justly belongs.


    1. The Yankees were always about feeding Steinbrenner’s ego. Now he’s stuck — right there — in center field staring at us for all of eternity. Luckily, in 10 years, few will remember him, and in two decades, he’ll only be known to those who bother to read that giant, bronze, monstrosity.

      During the unveiling ceremony last night on TV, they searched and searched the crowd to find someone, anyone!, who was shedding a tear over “The Boss.” There wasn’t a wet eye to be found.

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