New York Tug of War
I detest the Yankees.
I hate their pretentious pinstripes. I hate John Sterling’s irritating homerun calls; not every ball Alex Rodriguez hits is an A-Bomb, and it’s not clever after the billionth time. I hate them all, strutting around Yankee Stadium acting like they own the league.
I was born in New York, so I’ve heard people say that I am betraying my home team. But that is not even slightly true.
Shea Stadium was my first home away from home.
Shea was the classic, old, royal blue origin of the New York Mets, the first team I ever loved. When I was smaller, there was nothing like munching on a hot dog smothered in ketchup while Mike Piazza smashed one over the fence and the “Home Run Apple” appeared to tumultuous applause.
Despite New York being the closest area that houses major sports teams, only a few students reading this will understand what I’m talking about.
Because there are so many teams living in the Big Apple, there has always been a divide between different fans in Staples.
Yankees fans hate Mets fans, and Mets fans hate Yankees fans. Rangers fans would like to punch Islanders fans in the face, and Islanders fans want to scream every time they hear the “Potvin Sucks” chant ringing through Nassau Coliseum.
“I’m a Yankees fan, and my best friend is a Mets fan. So usually when they play each other, she comes to me crying because the Yankees won,” said Savannah Donohue ’13. “Let’s just say I win a lot of bets.”
There’s nothing like a good ol’ Subway Series to set a couple of friends on edge.
(Also, as of right now, the Yankees have a worse record. Just saying).
Don’t get me wrong; I’ll still like you if I discover your dark, navy blue and white-clad allegiance. But I might like you a little less.
And now that the Jets are moving to New York as well, I have a whole new team to hate and a whole new reason to scream my love for the Giants to the world. I was so proud when they won the Super Bowl. Seriously, I cried. Eli Manning is like my child.
Not only is there a huge amount of New York teams, but Connecticut residents also find many others to cheer for: the Red Sox, the Patriots, the Celtics. Without in-state teams of our own, we need to choose different teams to root for.
For me, my Mets devotion was passed down to me from my father. My best friend and I adopted the Giants when we recently got into football. But it’s different for everyone.
That’s one of the great things about having such a wide array of fans in Staples; each person has their very own obsession and their very own story.
It’s easy to love a team with the highest payroll in baseball, but that’s beside the point.
As much as I hate them, I respect Yankee fans. I respect Jets fans. I respect any fan that sticks by their team’s side, through thick and thin. I respect people that carry their adoration from when they were kids for the rest of their lives.
Sports has a way of bringing people together, whether it’s cheering for the same team on the same couch with a bowl of chips in hand, or it’s teasing each other and trying to come up with the best put-downs.
To each their own. But I’ll be waiting in Citi Field for the Mets’ next World Series ring; ready to welcome each of you Yankee fans back from the dark side.