Much wailing and gnashing of teeth on Thursday by certain commenters over my lack of knowledge on Freddy Schulman, the rickety, meshugga gentleman who haunts Yankee games with a frying pan, a teaspoon and odd, colorful signage. For pinstripe fans, it must have seemed as if I were insulting an eccentric old uncle. So consider this my apology to Freddy and all others like him, even though he is obviously several varieties of crazy, and probably has Dee Mirich on speed dial.
Not to be critical, but why do I get the feeling that Freddy's apartment is filled to the ceiling with old newspapers, empty soda cans and bits of shiny metal he found around town, and that he owns every episode of I Love Lucy on videotape? And I'm supposed to allow my kids to "bang his pot" at crotch level?
I guess what bothers me about Freddy, and many "superfans" like him, are all the freaking non sequiturs. He's got a frying pan and a teaspoon, and I'm supposed to hit the frying pan with the spoon ... and that will give the Yankees luck, and New York will win the East? Norse mythology makes more sense.
I much prefer fans such as Bearman, a Chicago regular who wears a Bears jersey and an actual bear's head. At least that follows a logical thread, and doesn't make me suspect him when the pigeons suddenly begin disappearing in his neighborhood. Why can't pro superfans be more like Keggy, the unofficial Dartmouth beer keg who needs no explanation? He simply rules.
But anyway, to avoid further criticism, please list your favorite pro sports eccentric in the comments — with as much background information as you can provide — so that I will never sully his reputation in future posts; I have better things to do than to Google every crackpot with a feather duster taped to his ass who shows up at a major league ballpark. So speak now, or forfeit your right to future criticism.
Sammy Sosa Dissed By All-Star Signage [Deadspin]