Yes, I’m Guilty Of Stealing A Piece Of The Old Yankee Stadium
By Derek Jeter, Yankees shortstop
Okay, I’ll admit it. Back in September, I stole a sign from the old Yankee Stadium. It was in the Yankees clubhouse, and it was a sign that had a quotation from Joe DiMaggio, who said, “I want to thank the Good Lord for making me a Yankee.” Since I first started with the Yankee organization back in 1995, I too have thanked the Good Lord for the same thing. Aside from the fact that I slept with Jessica Alba, there is nothing in my life that I could possibly be more grateful for than to have spent the last fourteen years wearing “the pinstripes.” Well, now that I think about it, I also slept with Mariah Carey. Okay, with the exception of having slept with Jessica Alba and Mariah Carey, there is nothing that I would like to thank the Good Lord more for than making me a Yankee. They don’t have a sign that says that though, and even if they did, it wouldn’t make any sense to hang it up in the Yankees clubhouse unless every member of the team slept with them. I would like to have that sign made though, and I’ll hang it above the door in my apartment. Then, every time I leave, I’ll smack it, kind of like how the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame smack the sign that reads “Play Like A Champion Today” before they take the field. Oh, wait a minute. I just remembered that I slept with Scarlett Johansson too. I’m grateful for this, but it’s making my sign really complicated. Not only that, but she wasn’t that great in bed anyway, certainly not so great that sleeping with her was better than being a Yankee. Therefore, for the purpose of accuracy, the sign above my apartment door will read:
I want to thank the Good Lord for letting me sleep with Jessica Alba and Mariah Carey, and for making me a Yankee. I also want to thank the Good Lord for letting me sleep with Scarlett Johansson, but I’m not as grateful for that as the first three things that I just mentioned.
That’s a bit wordy, is it not? I mean, the whole idea of smacking a sign while leaving a doorway is to get yourself pumped up. It should only take a couple of seconds, and it should all be done in one fluent motion; I shouldn’t have to stop to read it. After all, I’m an athlete, not a librarian. I think I’ll just shorten it to:
I want to thank the Good Lord for my cock and the fact that I play for the Yankees.
Yes, that’s much better. Besides, Joe DiMaggio was fucking Marilyn Monroe, and that wasn’t included in the sign that…oh that’s right…I completely went off on a tangent here, didn’t I? Here I am, writing about the sign that I’m going to have made for my apartment, and I completely forgot that I was supposed to be writing about that other sign, the one in which I committed petty larceny in order to obtain. I apologize. Like I said, I’m an athlete, not a librarian. “Me see ball coming. Me hit ball. Now me run.” LOL!
Anyway, I just want to say on the record that, normally, I do not condone stealing. As the creator of the Turn Two Foundation, which is aimed at motivating young people to turn away from drugs and alcohol and “Turn 2” healthy lifestyles, it is important to me that I am perceived as a role model. So why did I steal the sign? Because I wanted it. It was there, I wanted it, and I took it! What are you going to do about it? Nothing? That’s what I thought. Hell, if I had superhuman strength, I would’ve stolen the whole God damn stadium, and probably gotten away with it too. If anyone were to stop me and ask, “Hey Derek, what are you doing with Yankee Stadium?” I would have lied and said that OJ Simpson stole it at gunpoint but I fought him and took it back. Or I would have said that Michael Phelps stole it while he was high. Either way, I would have taken all the credit for bringing the stadium back to its rightful place, and all of the fans and everyone in the media would have believed me. Do you know why? Because I’m Derek Jeter.
The Only Thing That Derek Jeter Is Guilty Of Stealing Is My Heart
By Bonnie DeDely, Stalker
Worried that his hands might be cold in this frigid winter air, I was sewing Derek Jeter a pair of wool gloves the other night, when all of a sudden, a voice came out of my television set, saying, “Coming up on Eyewitness News At 11, Derek Jeter admits to stealing.” Well, let me just tell you, I nearly passed out. “Not…my…Derek,” I uttered, a tear falling from my cheek and landing on Derek’s half-sewn left glove. As it turns out, the only thing that Derek stole (aside from my heart and 275 career bases) was a sign from the Yankees clubhouse, one that had a quotation from Joe DiMaggio that reads, “I want to thank the Good Lord for making me a Yankee.” This is adorable, for several reasons. First, I think it’s adorable how grateful Derek is for his career. Also, I think it’s adorable how he just went and took it. And the fact that he was so honest about it might just be the cutest thing that has ever happened in the entire history of the planet. Granted, it took him four months to finally own up to it, but that’s just four extra months of suspense, which makes this whole thing four times as cute. And let’s not forget that Derek’s jersey number is 2, which is half of four, and if you add those numbers together you get 6, which is the number of hits that Derek had on July 29, 2000, the same day the court issued me my first restraining order. On that historic day, I was told that I could be no closer than 500 feet from Derek, which is the same distance that the baseball traveled when he hit a homerun off of Greg Maddux on April 27, 2003. I memorized all of his stats because that’s what intimacy is all about. I know that he’s had 2,535 hits, 206 homeruns, and 1002 RBIs, just like how, in the near future, Derek will know that my favorite color is blue and that my favorite dessert is tapioca pudding. But I digress.
You’re probably thinking, “How can Derek Jeter be your soulmate if he’s had a restraining order against you?” Well, for your information, Derek hasn’t had a restraining order against me. He’s had four restraining orders against me. The last one came after he found out that I had been breaking into his apartment during away games and stealing his used Q-tips from the garbage can in his bathroom. At the hearing, the judge said that since I had violated three previous restraining orders, I could be thrown in jail if Derek wanted me to. “There’s no need for that,” said Derek. “Since this woman has been in my apartment, she knows that there’s lots of baseball bats there.” My attorney told me shortly afterward that what Derek was implying was that he was going to use his baseball bats against me in an act of violence if I ever set foot in his apartment again. I, on the other hand, had a different interpretation of the legal proceedings, believing that Derek’s intentional refusal to have me thrown in jail was a way of showing his undying devotion towards me.
What Derek needs to realize is that my semi-automatic pistol is more dangerous than his baseball bats could ever be. Especially if he refuses to swing those bats, which is what happened with two strikes against him in the ninth inning at Camden Yards on May 7, 1999, resulting in a 3-2 loss to the Orioles. He looked so disappointed with himself. At that moment, I just wanted to hold him in my arms and let him know that I was there for him if he wanted to talk. But with all these God damn restraining orders against me, how am I supposed to tell him that? I’ll tell him with my semi-automatic pistol. That’s how.
Love hurts, Derek. You’re going to find that out real soon.
February 3, 2009