Stinkmitt • October 25th, 2015
BROOKLYN – The tally, my fellow front-tail swingers, is in. Long before your plastic jack-o-lantern amphetamine-stuffed Milky Way swag-catcher was shelved and the blood-red Brazilian YFS bikini sported worldwide by sticks and splits alike was anointed the hottest costume of the season, the 7th Annual YFS Fall Classic has waxed and juiced the under-carriages of us all. But I'm not here to goose your ego, as it's the hallowed grounds of York Cathedral that have spoken on our behalf and here we find, not only the fresh-crowning of a birthday "Diamond" and the first-ever stickball championship for a Red squad, but the very reason for the hyperbole of both the most brass-stoned stickballer and smack-soaked "drugout" junky who exclaim that the 7th Annual YFS Fall Classic "changes everything."
But let's not get ahead of ourselves. The ball-vicing story that is the rise of 2015's Red 2 tide began over a year ago all oiled in black. Cuffed together at the ever-illustrious YFS draw of 2014, The Mechanic, The Diamond, The Wanderer and Rizz Everywhere entered last year's postseason with 2.5 - 1 odds to win it all only to get donkey-punched in the BLCS by the B1s who would quickly "Surge" to become the 2014 YFS Champs. The tapioca aftertaste of losing was bitter for the B2s and months of comfort-based Hello Kitty infantilism, viagra-binged pre-bed showers, and limp-sog diary entries would ensue as the bass-topped tallboy spawned in the ever-fertile and ever-familiar house of Koepke. But when the 2015 YFS Draw cascaded down a near mirror-image team with the addition of veteran and two-time YFS champion El Matador, the chastity belts of the newly-anointed R2s creaked with redemption. "I can't deny blushing like a cartoon Cabbage Patch after the draw," said Rizz Everywhere over speaker-phone from the archive library of his soft-core VHS collection of Thai coed exercise films, "It's like a Disney story of second chances, but not the chance to merely magic-carpet your skinny tail away into the sunset, no, it's a chance to peek into the animated petticoats that ministered your soiled pajamas as a child, a chance to touch the fragile art."
And the blood of the RLCS Champion R2s seemed just to begin to boil in the opening game of the 7th Annual YFS classic. After light morning Sunday rains, the skies over York gave way to an un-seasonal 60-degree first pitch under the silky-serenade-anthem of Marvin Gaye. Despite being the Fall Classic favorites, the BLCS Champion B2s of The Surgeon, The Secret Agent, The Connoisseur, The Cobble Hill Kid and The Local Boy seemed tight-strapped jock-wise in Sunday prayers through the first verses. But history soon proved a cruel and stubborn god, as just when the R2s had their B2 nemesis down to their final out in the bottom of the ninth of game one, "On-Deck Circle DeVille" swung so damn low that he stepped on his own dick to click home "CHK" with a walk-off wall blast. Said The Southern Diamond of the DSS streaming the series on AOL dial-up, "A walk-off loss like that in the first game of a five-game 'ship straight mud-masks an opponent. The losers can tell each other there's a lot of beauty yet to come if they keep their heads up, but the simple fact is it's hard to hit a tennis ball with back-jam in your eyes."
The wisdom of the Southern glitter-man seemed to be on point as game two unspooled and "The Splurgeon" groin-tramped the R2s with a shuddering double-play to keep a sure-fire RBI off the board. But the R2s somehow kept a free-ball lightness in the swing of their ropes such that, in the top of the sixth, it just wasn't so damn cold in "The D" anymore. After the "Diamond" cleaned up a "Link" triple with a gap single and The Mechanic cherried a bomb with ducks on the pond to cream the points on a six-run sixth, the seventh frame turned up the R2s with a 7-2 lead. The block-topper, though, was one of the most controversial mid-breakfast sandwich adjudications in YFS Fall Classic history when The Wanderer "Fozzie Bear" Link slapped back a first-pitch bloop off of "Rizz's" bat to resurrect an at bat whose third pitch left the yard to tie up the series in game two. "I'm not sure that we ever got too down even after the 'In Memoriam' slide show featuring the hypovolemic Stinkmitt," said the Secret Agent AKA The Meatball Shop between bowls of sherbet at Billy Corgan's post-game "Cream and Cuddles" condolences party, "but all of the piss and vinegar that splattered that infield-line call was enough to evacuate the sack of any boar-barreled champ."
And so it was. But wisdom yields the ingredients of such a red rush of blood to the head isn't found in obedience but in the brash. Although the R2s had initiated a boot-knockin' ban on its members, the crotch-cometeer of the 7th Annual YFS Classic confessed to breaking bedding-down bans to ensure his return as the mack of the YFS World Series. Fluffed and stiffed by a mid-game Uber-Camry delivery of birthday suds and tacos to the then-bridesmaid "Diamond" by a couple of honeys strapping YFS gear as well as a "Wrencher" slap-happy racking of nine postseason bombs, "Link" in the pink was flat out mean and hard at missing. Over the course of the next two games, the only YFS walk-on member in history hit five moon-drummers - two solo and three two-run - to ballast the bloods' barrage. "I'm not sure what all the hubbub is about," said "The Coinnes-sewage" while snacking on a bag of Fresh Step, "I've seen somethin' like this before when I had front row tickets to the first-ever birth of a human by a wildebeest. It seemed cruel then, but, at the same time, you couldn't deny what a beautiful baby that was."
Still, the "Scalpel" slashed back with six Fall Classic wall-clearers of his own to stack his career postseason home run total to a league-leading 57 and the B2s did momentarily flood the shafts when The Agent hit a "fuck my finger" blast to give the oilers the lead in the decisive game four. But a closing "Link" sky-scratcher and a spider-like defensive snare on a line shot by The Mechanic assured the Reds their first-ever YFS Championship and dressed The Diamond in his first-ever wedding gown on his 40th birthday. "The only time I've ever come close to feeling this irresistible and ball-puckering like a beautiful woman in charge of the room," said Jesse "The Diamond" Hass via Snapchat while flanked by Adderall-powdered escorts from the Lamar Odom Bunny Ranch victory bash, "was listening to Roy Orbison on headphones while roller-skating with my eyes closed through the Mall of America." "It took them two years to get it right," said reigning King of York, The Surgeon, via collect call from Praia do Pinho mandatory nude beach in Brazil, "but cool job boys."
When asked who exactly it was that stormed the York Cathedral to deliver the rations and re-sod the killing field of the R2s, league-Yoda The Wrencher returned with a shrug-shoulder aside as he strapped his fourth YFS ring, "Does Bono know the first name of every fan who wants to suck his dick?…Of course not." What we do know my brethren in the ashes of this 7th YFS Season, and from being blessed witnesses of the 7th Annual YFS World Series with cake holes agape, the link is hardly missing from all of our lives nor from the history our cherished Cathedral contains, with shot after shot through the heavens, all we need to do is swallow our suds and gaze skyward. See you with your cold and lonely sticks cutting the line for Season 8 - for honor, boys, is not nearly enough.
G1 - R2s: 6, B2s: 7
G2 - R2s: 9, B2s: 3
G3 - B2s: 3, R2s: 8
G4 - B2s: 4, R2s: 7
HRs: Surgeon 6 (57), Mechanic 5 (41), Wanderer 6 (30), S. Agent 1 (20), Rizz E. 1 (4)
YFS World Series MVP: THE WANDERER
The Red 2s are The Mechanic (4), The Wanderer (2), El Matador (2), Rizz Everywhere (1), and The Diamond (1)
The Black 2s were The Surgeon, The Secret Agent, The Connoisseur, Local Boy and The Cobble Hill Kid