I pray to da fatha, da son, and da Holy Jeeta

(Clicks MLB Trade Rumors page)
(Reads Jeter’s quote on a contract extension)

“This is the only organization I’ve ever wanted to play for. I’ve never envisioned myself playing anywhere else. Hopefully I don’t have to. I’ve never been a free agent, and I’ve never wanted to be a free agent.”

(breaks into cold sweat)

Don’t worry Jeets. We’ll sign yuh. I am gonna see to it.

(Runs out to the street, waives down a cab successfully)

We betta sign Jeeta, and we better sign him right fuckin’ now if dey know what’s good fur em. Take me to duh Bronx. I wanna tell Steinbrenna right now how important it is that we protect owa most important asset.

What duh hell owa duh Yanks witout Mista Novemba? Huh?

He’s as much a part of duh Yankee mystique as dat pinstripe on duh fuckin’ hat. One of dose Jews, George or Hank; they’re offa up duh coin to keep owa star and dey’ll do it fuckin’ tuh-day. If not, I’m gonna shove my Italian Genoa salam down dey fat troats and I’ll neva go to anudder fuckin’ Yanks game fuh as long as I live.

(Lights up three cigarettes, is told that he can’t smoke in cab, lights a fourth cigarette)

Duh Sopranos. Duh Joysey Turnpike. Duh Jets, Duh Giants. Rudi Giuliani. Ground Zero. None of dat means shit tuh this city if Jeets is wearing anyting otha then Pinstripes come 2011.

Doesn’t loyalty account fuh sometin? Doesn’t all the clutch hits in Octoba mean anyting? I grew up watchin’ Jeets become duh king of dis city. I got my first head job the same day he got his first big league knock.

(Opens can of Yueng-leng)

That Cashman betta undastand simple economics. You pay Jeets, you win. It’s dat fuckin’ simple. Wit Jeeta, we could win 10 mowa titles. Witout Jeeta, those fuck-knobs like Girardi and Cashman don’t have fuckin’ jobs.

(Throws empty can of Yueng-leng at old lady)

I’mma gonna have a sit down with da boys and if dey don’t write up a contract fuh Jeets right in front-uh my very eyes, someone’s gonna get roughed around a little and made tuh understand.

(Opens can of Red bull, chugs entire Red bull)

Dis is a guy who’s still in his prime. He hit .334 last season. We need tuh being paying homage tuh King Jeeta. Instead of worryan’ about uh contract, we outta be pickin’ out jewells fuh his crown. Jeeta, do yuh like ruby’s or emerulds?

(Starts doing forearm curls with 25 pound free weights, yelling with each rep)

Dis is Jeeta’s town! He is duh king of duh concrete jungle, and he can fuck anybody he wants! Ya hear? Am I right? Am I not right? Dis is so true!

(Hops out of cab at New Yankee Stadium, puts on sunglasses in daylight, throws a quarter at the cabby)

Steinbrenna, if you don’t pay owa boy I’ll have my rich father from Queens bury you unda the new elementary school he’s building. This I mean fuh sure!