Longtime sports-blog enthusiasts — both of you! — will remember and lament the loss of Fire Joe Morgan, the statistically minded satiric baseball site that vivisected lazy baseball writing with brutal and awesome wit. The writers of the site — who turned out to be accomplished television comedy writers, led by Mose Schrute! — retired the site last November. But today, for one day only, they have returned to guest-edit Deadspin. In the grand Kanye tradition, it’s in the interest of promotion.
Two of the three main writers for FJM, Ken Tremendous (Michael Schur) and junior (Alan Yang), are writers for Parks and Recreation, which has its season premiere on NBC tomorrow night. (Schur is co-creator of the show and the aforementioned Mose Schrute; we spoke to him for the magazine in March.) So to promote the start of the season … they’ve taken to sports blogs!
And it’s a beautiful thing. They’re mocking David Eckstein and “scrappy” players, noting the ridiculousness of asking baseball players to comment on Michael Jackson’s and Farrah Fawcett’s deaths, and, later on, dicing up sportswriter love of Derek Jeter. This leads to an immortal paragraph about the Yankees from Schur:
Here’s the thing, you guys. The Yankees are just better than other players. That’s the deal. They’re better. They’re better. Just accept it. There should be two Halls of Fame, I think. One for human players who excel at baseball, and one for Yankees. And maybe a third for True Yankees Who Knew How To Win. Paul O’Neill, Tino, Brosius, Chad Curtis, Ramiro Mendoza, Jeter, Rivera, Girardi, Posada, Pettitte, Bernie, Wells, Cone, and that’s fucking it. (And somehow Don Mattingly, even though he won exactly nothing, but fuck you, he was a winner.) They would be housed in a separate building, and admission would be $10,000. They would have gold-plated plaques, and visitors would have to take off their shoes out of respect for the True Yankees and would also have to view the plaques through special like astronomy glasses so as to avoid their retinas being burned out by the sheer beauty of the True Yankees’ memorialized visages. And offerings could be made, maybe — that would be nice. Slaughtered goats and sprinkled holy water and incense could be burned in front of fucking Paul O’Neill’s fucking plaque because he so totally Knew How To Win and was Such a True Warrior and True Yankee that it seems like the least anyone could do when given the monumental once-in-a-lifetime fucking chance to be in a True Yankee’s plaque-i-fied presence for like 30 seconds, and maybe see the remnants of a water cooler he smashed to bits after striking out looking in the third inning of a 5–2 win over the Royals in early June because he is such a True Warrior even though someone else on another team who does that is a Punk and a Hot Head, is avert one’s eyes and slaughter a goat or something out of Respect for the Greatest Fucking Humans Who Ever Walked The Fucking Earth.
So you can see what they’re up to over there. Check it out.