New York baseball fans have, since time immemorial--or 1962, but close enough--been confronted with a choice: Mets or Yankees. Everybody knows you can’t root for both. Those who try are generally scorned as half-assed baseball fans, at best, and at worst, fundamentally weak and immoral human beings. It’s like bigamy, but less socially acceptable. Which is why I’m nervous, because I have to admit… I kind of like the Mets this year.
Now, I was born and raised a Yankees fan, and I’ll die a Yankees fan (possibly sooner rather than later, if I ever have to see Sidney Ponson on the mound with the season on the line). When the two teams play each other, my loyalty is clear and undivided. But there’s no denying it: I’m happy the Mets are doing so well, and I want them to get far in the playoffs. If this doesn’t seem like an issue to you, then I congratulate you on your rationality and perspective, but you’re obviously not a New York baseball fan, so take your precious logic and tell it to someone who gives a damn.
It’s not my fault. I like Willie Randolph from his Yankee coaching days, Carlos Delgado seems to have real character, Jose Valentin’s moustache is oddly hypnotic, El Duque brings back misty watercolored memories, and Jose Reyes and David Wright are just so fucking ingratiating. I still hate Pedro, of course, and I’m clinging to that, but I worry that I’m starting down a slippery slope that will one day end with me defensively whining, “I just want New York teams to win, what’s so wrong about that?” while my old friends sadly shake their heads and move down to the other end of the bar. This has to stop.
The second step is believing that a power greater than myself can restore me to sanity...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment