Don't Make Shelley Duncan Angry. You Wouldn't Like Him When He's Angry.

Yup. He’s retarded.

Look, Shelley, we’re all for the balls-out, smashmouth play; however, when you announce to the general public precisely when and how you intend to seek revenge on another team for a perceived dirty hit, you officially enter the ranks of “moron.”

Yesterday’s altercation with the Rays was ugly on a lot of levels. In some respects we blame the Yankees: the aftermath of the Francisco Cervelli / Elliott Johnson collision came across as somewhat whiny. Joe Girardi was standing up for his guys when he called the hit inappropriate, but Joe should know, better than anyone, the perils of catching. Plus, he was a tough guy behind the plate, and I know that because the media has been telling me all week. The hit was hard, aggressive, and probably a little bit dirty (the cross-body-block tackle seemed a bit much) but, for God’s sake, take it like professional athletes are supposed to take it: say nothing and then buzz Carl Crawford up and in on Opening Day.

But Shelley’s comments leading up to yesterday were especially ridiculous. The whole “I didn’t think you ran over catchers in Spring Training. I guess we’ll have to play with a different intensity now,” shtick sounded childish and professional athletes should never attempt layered innuendo. Most people probably think Duncan has assured himself a role with the “big club,” thanks to his taking matters into his own hands; however, if anything, Lenny might have cost himself a spot on the team to start the year, if only because he’s sure to be suspended, and we doubt the Yankees will want to start the year a man down.

The Rays, however, are also to blame for this fiasco. There are few things more aggravating to us than the “How dare you?!” reaction from a team after they initiate a controversy. Whether the Rays believed that the Johnson hit was clean or not, they had to be ready for it! Any man, woman, or child who watched the collision understood that retaliation would be had at some point. So, spare us the sudden indignation. I’m looking at you Jonny Gomes. (Where the hell did you come from, by the way? You were on Duncan quicker than Spitzer on a prostitute.) And, for Joe Maddon to call Duncan’s take-out slide “borderline criminal,” is just pathetic. Let me get this straight: body chopping a catcher at the plate is “hardnosed,” but a spikes-up slide into second base is “contemptible”? Funny how different things look from the other side, ay Joe?

We pause, also, for a brief shout-out to the umpires, who perceived the early innings of this game to be a bonafied Pearl Harbor attack. Men in Blue, did you really believe that the Yankees had sent Heath Phillips to the mound to do their dirty work? Heath Phillips? Trust us, if the Bombers wanted to send a message, they would have made sure an erratic flame-thrower was on the mound. Kyle Farnsworth is good for something, you know.

Lastly, however, we save our ire for the media, on whom we lay the most blame. We all know that Spring Training is boring. The games are boring, the interviews are boring, everything is boring. Tweaked hamstrings and simulated games / bullpen sessions get the brunt of the attention. We get it. Not sexy. But, media: you caused this fight. From the second the collision occurred the stories came fast and furious. Will this cause retaliation? Will the Yankees fight back? Who will do it? When will it happen? Someone please read this exciting yet hypothetical report! In the end, you give a story life…even the non-stories. And, although Cervelli broke his wrist in a very unfortunate event, this was basically a non-story.

But, even the worst fisherman sometimes catches a fish (Did we just invent a new colloquialism?) and, to all the beat writers out there, your fish was obviously Shelley Duncan who, as previously mentioned, is retarded. You baited him, hook, line and sinker. You got him to bite on the retaliation angle, and you got what you wanted; an embarrassing, bench-clearing fight in March. And now, we’ll have to endure another week’s worth of stories about retaliation for the retaliation. As if the Yankees / Red Sox ordeal isn’t exhausting enough.

If you had your way, this would end with Rocco Baldelli dead, on his bathroom floor, with the initials “D.J.” carved into his chest.

Thankfully, as passive as it sounds, at least nobody got hurt in the brawl.

And at least we got that awesome picture of Akinori Iwamura getting a cleat stuck in his balls.