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We went to baseball camp one summer but we only made it through half of the first day. The morning was all sunshine and great American past-time, but after lunch they hosed down second base and wanted us to practice sliding. In mud! We were horrified, and we walked home crying. Note to kids: do not wear brand new Paper Denims to first day at baseball camp.

So, Shawn Green joining the Mets is stirring up a lot of emotions for us. We are excited to see one of our own who doesn't throw like a girl, and who doesn't break out in cold sweats when he sees the ball heading in his direction. Finally, a Hank Greenberg for our generation.

However, don't expect us to actually follow sports on television or know anything about it. Even just the excitement already clashes with our whole "self-deprecating, guilt-ridden, people of the book" thing. If we start actually paying attention we're going to have to get foreskin restoration surgery, a job outside of the media, and move to the suburbs. And, you know, fuck that.

A Power Hitter, and a Source of Jewish Pride [NYT]