Foreign invasion

There is a growing problem in and around where I live, and I’m not sure what can be done about it.

These people keep moving here from a foreign land, and they’re really not welcome. They speak with strange accents that we cannot understand, they observe odd rituals and customs, and they absolutely refuse to assimilate to the culture.

I’m talking, of course, about Yankees.

Where in the world do they come from? I mean, I know where they come from – New York, Minnesota, Ohio. Any place where they call a Co-Cola “pop.”

I guess what I mean is, why do they keep coming here from these places? Actually, that’s a silly question. I have been to Detroit, and Toledo, and Pittsburgh, and Newark, and Providence. So it’s pretty obvious why they come down here.

Martin Luther King Jr. said we should judge people not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. I’m cool with that. But he said nothing about where they come from.

One thing they do really annoys me - they wear jerseys in support of their favorite professional sports teams. I’m talking about grown men and women here. I turned on the Celtics-Lakers game from Boston the other night, and at least half the men were wearing a basketball jersey. With somebody else’s name on it. What’s that about? Is it because they have a man-crush on the player? Are they trying to fool us? Are we supposed to think the rotund 5-foot-8 guy with the porn star moustache is actually Kevin Garnett?

People make a big deal out of it when the Cubs or Red Sox are in Atlanta playing the Braves, and a good part of the crowd is cheering for the visitors. All wearing their jerseys. But this is easily explained. See, nobody moves FROM Atlanta TO Chicago or Boston.

We are mainly college sports fans down here, and we do sensible like things to show our support, such as barking like dogs and painting our chests. Mostly it’s the men who do that, except at LSU.

It's irritating when Yankees move down South and make fun of everything. We talk funny, we move too slowly, we like to shoot things, we drink sweet tea, and we marry close relatives. This really offends me. I have never even kissed a cousin on the lips. Not a first cousin, anyway.

I’m sort of kidding here. Some of my best friends are Yankees. Or they’re from Florida, anyway. Same thing. And as long as they don’t try to tell me how to do something, we’ll get along fine.