Last night, after basking in the Trop’s orange glow, the Mrs. flipped over to Bravo! for, what I can only assume, was the season debut of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. I could say that I protested. I could say that I went to another room to read (or to blog). But those would be lies. I watched it, just like you watched it, because it is awful.
(I feel like that was the first step in a 12-step process. I hate those women so much but, whenever the Mrs. is watching, I am watching. I know I’m not alone. Come out of the dark and into the light straight male Housewives watchers. It’s going to be ok. I feel like a new man.)
While I was watching those horribly unattractive women elaborate about all of the silly, producer-driven, drama that occupies so much of their time (and that has garnered so many of them their 15-minutes of fame) I couldn’t help but notice how seamlessly we were able to transition from Rays-Yankees to Teresa’s new feud with her sister-in-law.
No wonder we love to hate those women. They act just like big-league ballplayers.
Every season, regardless of the city, features the exact same cast. There is one aging primadonna that wants to tell you how important she was in the glory days. (See Posada, Jorge). There is one successful person who loves to be down in the mud with the others while appearing to be above-the-fray (See Jeter, Derek). There is one person who has the self-professed illusion that she is the leader of the rest of the group but, in reality, has no control over anyone (See Girardi, Joe). There is one person that feels compelled to respond to every insult, as soon as it occurs, but only responds through that third-party confessional camera behind everyone’s back (See Cashman, Brian). And, there is one person who feels the need to comment on everyone’s problems whether she was asked or not (See Soriano, Rafael).
The Yankees, who will from this point forward be known in this space as The Real Housewives of the Bronx, are not alone. The struggling Red Sox fit this pattern as well. Obsessing over regional problems that they think the rest of the country should care about.
That, of course, begs the question. Do all AL East contenders behave like TV Housewives? No.
The Rays are right in the mix every season competing with their glitzy co-stars for attention. The Rays get in as many zingers as any other character on the cast but are never portrayed in the same light or engage in the same petty back-biting. The Rays, then, are the true star of every Housewives season: my man Andy Cohen.