Allow me to briefly indulge a high-school football memory:
It was the fourth quarter of the homecoming game my senior year, and we held a comfortable lead over the cupcake West Hempstead team we scheduled for homecoming every season. Nevermind that it was due to be our first win of the season and only the fourth in the three years I had been playing varsity football; I was having the time of my life.
Our coach swapped in a new defensive end, a pothead who didn’t play much. He was supposed to bring the defensive playcall with him, but that was apparently too much for his memory to bear.
While the huddle gathered, I jogged to greet him.
“What’s the play?” I asked.
“Oh, s@#$,” he said, looking bewildered. “But yo, Wurst is having a party.”
I chuckled and approached the huddle.
“Forty-two, outside, Cover 2, red dog,” I said, improvising. “And guys — there’s a party at Wurst’s house tonight.”
What a leader I was that day! And what a fun-loving gang of hooligans we were! Just laughing and partying and keeping it loose. That was a team with chemistry.
Of course, the next week, while losing by double-digits, I got into a fistfight with our starting runningback on the sidelines. And after the game, instead of partying with my teammates, I went to the movies with my parents. I was ashamed to be seen in public after the stomping we took.
In the coming days, lots and lots of people are going to talk about A.J. Burnett and his whipped-cream pies and how the Yankees succeeded because they were able to stay loose in the clubhouse.
But that’s not really it.
When teams play well, the players have fun. Almost always. Baseball players become professional baseball players in part because they really, really enjoy playing baseball (even Carlos Beltran!). And to win consistently at the Major League level must be an unimaginable thrill.
So of course the Yankees nailed each other in the face with pies after games. And of course they appeared to be enjoying it. They were enjoying it, and they deserved to. They were that good.
But they were enjoying it because they were good, they were not good because they were enjoying it. Does that make sense?
The Yankees had a team full of All-Stars that were lucky enough to stay healthy. They replaced Jason Giambi with Mark Teixeira and revamped their rotation. That’s why they won, and so that’s why they had so much fun.
No one gets pied after losses.
Look: I’m not dismissing the element of team chemistry altogether. I’ve worked in groups, and obviously I recognize that it’s a much more pleasant experience while everyone’s getting along.
But is there a way to construct a group to ensure that everyone gets along? I doubt it. In fact, I’d bet the best way to secure the best possible clubhouse would be to put together the best possible team.
That’s what the Mets need to do this offseason. They must put together the best possible team for 2010 that does not prevent them from winning in 2011 and beyond.
And that’s all. There’s no need to go out and acquire good clubhouse guys or team leaders or pie-throwers. If the team wins games, there’ll always be someone to throw pies.
Amazing.
Anyway, I trashed him a bit, assuming he was just some run-of-the-mill record-company lackey selected for stardom for his looks and charm.
Cappy Ham and Cheese (Primanti Bros., Pittsburgh, PA): “Really, Ted? Just a plain old ham and cheese?” No, you fool. Calling this thing ham and cheese is like calling King Kong a monkey. It’s less of a sandwich and more of a ridiculous cavalcade of awesome. I can’t even remember all the things that are on there, but I know that there’s cole slaw, pickles and like a full order of french fries, and you have options to get a bunch of other things on there as well. It’s absolutely baffling that the cheesesteak should be the most identifiable sandwich native to Pennsylvania when the Primantis are serving this thing up in Pittsburgh. Also, 
Ferdi Special (Mother’s Restaurant, New Orleans, LA): If you go to Mother’s at lunchtime, you’ll probably have to wait so long that you begin to wonder if the sandwich is worth it. But don’t fret, it is. It’s ham, roast beef, a bunch of crispy vegetablish things, and debris on french bread. The key here is the debris — that’s little pieces of roast beef that fell into the gravy while roasting. It’s amazing, and bursting with delicious meaty flavor. Be warned, though: breakfast at Mother’s is overrated, and you’ll want to save room for beignets and muffuletta (another sandwich better than cheesesteak, though one left off this list so it wasn’t an overwhelming Italian selection) and so many of the other delicious local foodstuffs.
Today, for example, he transcribes 
I’ve got plenty of beef with Phillies fans, but I’m not going to rehash what’s been covered a billion times. And there are probably at least a couple of Phillies fans out there that are decent human beings, and I know plenty of people from Philadelphia have read this blog, so I’ll spare the city my vitriol.
Tedquarters 