I live in New York, land of baseball.
I love it here in the summer, because the games matter and the fans are intense and all anyone wants to talk about is Yankees! Yankees! Yankees! (and, sometimes, mets, mets, mets).
Yet this year, with the Bronx Bombers sitting at 76-45 and holding a whopping seven-game lead on the Red Sox (and 10 on Tampa), I am again reminded of the inanity of it all.
This offseason, the Yankees purchased the two best pitchers on the market (C.C. Sabathia and A.J. Burnett), then went out and bought Mark Texiera, the in-his-prime, top-of-the-league first baseman superdooper stud. In other words, how can anyone with a human head actually attend, say, a Yankees-Royals or Yankees-Orioles or Yankees-Rays or Yankees-A’s or Yankees-Mariners or Yankees-Rangers or Yankees-Twins or Yankees-Anybody Except The Red Sox or Mets game and truly, strongly, lovingly, audibly root for the Yankees to win?
Really, it makes no emotional sense. I go to the movies to see The Empire Strikes Back. Darth Vader is absolutely loaded: The Emperor is supplying power and vital support. A new Death Star is in the works. He’s got a whole fleet of ships. So how in the world does anyone root against Luke? Actually, better example: You go to pick up your kid at school. There’s a fight in the playground. The bully lives next door to you. You like his parents, have attended BBQs at their house, remember when he was just a baby. However, now he’s a snarling 6-foot monster. His opponent is Richie Cunningham, the early high school years. Do you root for the thug, just because he’s familiar? Just because, once upon a time, he was likable?
Hells no.
If I’m a Yankee fan, I’m bored and unamused. Wow. Oh, wow. We won a game. With A-Rod at third, Jeter at short, Cano at second and Tex at first. Amazing. Whooie! Hee-haw.
Zzzz.
