Hart Seely nails it in the New York Times:
BEFORE he retired from broadcasting in 1996, Phil Rizzuto made it a point never to change subjects during a Yankees rally. He could be discussing bunions; it didn’t matter. As long as the Yanks were hitting, the Scooter stayed on topic.
“Hey, White,” he’d bark to his broadcast partner, Bill White, as he scrounged for a thread. “You ever try those Zino Pads on corns? I tell you, I’ve seen guys’ feet with the bunions so bad that, I mean, it hurt just BASE HIT BY MATTINGLY!”
For me and countless others, Rizzutonian metaphysics long ago became part of life.
While the Yankees are playing, we are working.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t practice voodoo, witchcraft or what psychologists refer to as “magical thinking.” What I do, people generally call “stupidity.”
Therefore, over many years, I have perfected a series of offensive and defensive schemes that are generally good for 95 wins per season.
Here’s how it works: When the Yanks are batting, I stand directly in front of the TV, eyeballing it with the kind of soul-on-fire intensity that Larry King gives Cher. I bend my knees slightly, fists clenched, the cobra-coiled stance of a champion kick-boxer.
When the Yanks take the field, I change course. I stretch out on the couch, arms dangling, boneless, sometimes with my eyes closed, symbolically coaxing enemy bats to sleep.
Gotta love a fellow whammy fighter.