We know we're supposed to make fun of Billy Crystal's at-bat for the Yankees yesterday. We know that you expect us to. And certainly Crystal's hardly what passes for cutting edge entertainment anymore; God, was the last time he was funny in a movie really the first City Slickers? (Though he gets some leeway for being so great in Deconstructing Harry. But we digress.) We have seen how almost every columnist writes how Crystal was "embarrassing himself," and how it was some sort of pox on the sanctity of spring training baseball. We think they're just envious. We think it's awesome.
If you were a rich, beloved celebrity, and had the opportunity to take one at-bat against a Major League pitcher — well, Paul Maholm, anyway — goddammit, wouldn't you have to do it? Why else would someone want to be rich and famous? Crystal looked like the happiest guy on earth yesterday, like he knew he was the luckiest sumbitch on the planet and never wanted the day to end. (And realize that he had to deal with Robin Williams chattering at him in the dugout the whole time; yes, Robin, we know: Gay men are flamboyant, and accents are funny. Got it.) And he fouled a ball off! That counts for something too, in that tiny bit of the male brain in which this matters paramount.
Yeah: We're envious; who wouldn't be after watching the guy having the time of his life? But even though it's Billy Crystal, we couldn't be happier for him. That looked like so much fun. Doesn't it always? Isn't that why we watch?
Billy Crystal Has A Ball [Red Sox Monster]