Only a Yankee fan could complain about a victory parade.

It's partially my fault, I know.  My train didn't reach Penn Station until 10 o'clock.  I walked onto Nassau around 10:25.  I followed the crowd until we came to a stop around Isamu Noguchi's Red Cube.

I've always had trouble with modern art- my taste for the aesthetic is apparently underdeveloped.  I prefer stories, narratives, or portraits.  I look at El Greco or Henri Matisse or Salvador Dali and I begin to invent cause and effect to explain how we got it.  I can't really enjoy just what is.

Which is why I was disappointed by the parade.  I didn't want to just be there- I wanted to see my heroes and celebrate them, and I went into the city to see them acknowledge being celebrated.  And standing 15 people deep along Broadway, I didn't get to see that.

Double decker busses rolled by with Yankee employees standing on top.  I could see those guys.  But I didn't take the train in to cheer the hot dog man.

Mr. Cashman, I know you read the blog from time to time, so here's my suggestion: next year, put the players on top of the buses and let the little guys ride in the little cars.