Clue-by-Four: Ramblings of a Jock Dork

Winning the Yankees Way: Life Lessons Learned from George Steinbrenner

(Any resemblance to persons real or fictional is entirely incidental, except those people who are actual Yankees. As for the stuff, if you think I’m talking about you…you might want to consider why you feel that way. If you think I’m talking about someone else…you might want to consider coming back from “Denial Island”)

Mason (Sean Connery): Are you sure you’re ready for this? [walks up staircase]

Goodspeed (Nicholas Cage): I’ll do my best.

Mason: [stops and motions back to Goodspeed] Your best? Losers always whine about their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen!

As a Yankees fan, I have a particular bias to all things pinstripes. I truly believe that my team exhibits the best in any and all things, which is why so many other teams try to be like us or are simply just jealous. [I hear your objections and I scoff! if your team spent the kind of money ours does to try and win, you would not be complaining]

Of course, over the years, I’ve been trained to think that by George Steinbrenner. But, considering my personality and behavior, is it really any shock that I’ve spent the last twenty-four years proudly wearing the NY in my daily life?1

My personality is naturally drawn to teams like the Yankees. They exhibit all the qualities that an alpha-Jock Dork like me strives to incorporate in my own life. I may be genetically disposed to root for the Bronx Bombers. But, I have also been shaped by lessons taught by George Steinbrenner and his ownership of the Yankees.

 Over the next few days, I will be sharing a few of those lessons that I may have learned from Steinbrenner [I acknowledge that I may have learned some of these elsewhere as well]. These lessons apply to business, friendships, relationships, and life in general.

Today’s lesson: Winning.



Particle Physics in Action: When Reality and Philosophy Collide on Sunday Nights

Posted in Clue x Fours and Other Tools of Sanity, Jock Dork: It's Who I Am by Wingnut on March 29, 2010

“There’s no crying in baseball!!!”

–Jimmy Dugan (League of their Own)

But apparently, there is a ton of crying in softball! Well, more like complaining and whining, but it sure sounded Sunday night like a few people on the other team needed a box of tissue.

Now, for those of you who remember my last blog (A celebration of why competitive women are straight up hot), you know that my Sunday night “semi” coed team exists with the sole purpose of showing that a team with five women can kick the testosterone out of our all-male opponents.1

This was never more apparent than last night when the opposing pitcher decided that not pitching to the men on the team would somehow increase his chances of winning. All this did was increase the chances that our women would be pissed off, an emotion that often provides a spark of motivation2. (I have a simple philosophy for myself: “Piss me off and I hit the ball harder.”)

With HG out due to injury, HG-Pro-Tem stepped in and launched one over the right fielder’s head. Being proud, she did a little taunting, something about asses and elbows3 (Earlier, she made an out and unleashed a barrage of expletives I can’t possibly repeat…It was kind of cute) . All of the women contributed, from Not-Renee to MW (see NY Mets, circa 1986 for details) to increase our lead.

Then, their pitcher started crying, metaphorically.  He was still not pitching to the guys, but now he was being a pure asshat about it. When Lil’ Lady C made a comment about it, he decided it would be a good time to talk trash. What ensued was a four-minute verbal exchange where C answered each of his taunts. The pitcher was, at the moment, a petulant child who was obviously in need of some psychological counseling thanks to the beating his team was now taking. (Some people just don’t know when it is a good time for them to shut up4).

The festivities culminated with RG being walked to load the bases. C stepped in, seething with anger and venom, and ripped the next pitch she saw over the left fielder’s head, clearing the bases to the delight and excitement of all of her teammates.


I suppose one of the reason I enjoy playing with the men on my team is because they see these women with the same admiration that I do. They may not have the Drool! Pant! response or AAOOOOOOOOOOOOGGGGA that I suffer from. But I know that their affinity for these women is built upon the same foundation as my out-of-control hormonal response. We like women who kick ass on the field.

I am amused that men can’t handle it. I stated before that women who are winners can be intimidating to many men. I guess it’s only funny until some guy starts crying…then it’s freakin’ hilarious.

Final score, 24-8. Oh, and we are still undefeated.


  1. We are far from the first team to do this. I umpired a few years ago and there was a team of four women that mercy ruled all of their opponents.
  2. By spark I mean out of control brushfire.
  3. See Down In Mississippi by Sugarland
  4. Often times this is me, but in other situation.