From Cardinal Dispora’s athooks :

Meet the Mets, greet the Mets, step right up and beat the Mets. Ah, what™s the only thing lower than a Met? Pond Scum. That™s what. Ever since I was knee high to a corn-stalk™s eye, I™ve hated 3 things: chicks that wear too much make-up, Haley Joel-Osmet and that freaking apple that pops out of a top hat in Shea Stadium. That place looks like it™s just totally saturated with urine, but that™s probably just the dandruff from most of the fans back hair- and that™s just the women! Ba-Zing. Let™s be honest. A prideful man would be a wee bit embarrassed by the team a scant subway ride away dominating the front pages of the papers while his team was still alive and kicking. But when you are Paul LoDuca, you are just praying that your wife can™t file her divorce papers in California, so you™ll have more money for the hookers. Everything about the Mets is second rate. They are little more than an afterthought in the city that never sleeps. They are the bass player in the band of life. It™s sad really. A Met fan is kind of like a Daewoo owner- you need to get a car, but you don™t really like to show it off. In fact, a recent study conducted by the Williston Institute for Higher Learning revealed that roughly 30% of any given crowd at Shea Stadium at any given time can read. And 15% of those people we™re taught in out-of-state prison facilities. My point is, you™re probably a pedophile if you root for the Mets. And if you haven™t acted out your sick twisted fantasies, then you™re a page away from doing the dirty. The only thing that was worth redeeming was Doc Gooden™s right arm, but Darryl Strawberry snorted it up. Whoops.

To which I can only reply, Sir or Madam, you are a resident of The Gonorrhea Capital Of The U.S.A. Your primary cultural exponents are the following :

There are much,much worse things than being “the bass player in the band of life”, my friend. For instance, you could be contributing to this man’s weekly paycheck.