These overdetermined wordplay-on-oldies-song-lyrics blog post headlines don't write themselves, you know. They sometimes take weeks, even months of preparation.
Mr. Jones (and aren't you glad I didn't title the post "Mr. Jones and me?"... of course you knew I'd never do something so gauche and tasteless), whose catch made the last out in the 1969 World Series—and if you have to ask what team, then, among other things, you're not paying sufficient attention to the banners above our heads—visited my local Citibank today and of course I had to pay my respects. I don't think it's telling tales out of school to reveal that as I was walking in, Mr. Phillip Lopate was walking out, having paid his own respects. We old-school Mets fans are quite the band of brothers, happy breed, etc., etc.
Have a splendid weekend, all.
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