Root for New York Yankees: No Chance in Hell

Today I was at physical therapy as I continue to recover from an injured right shoulder, and I got there at about 4:30. The Phillies and Rockies were on, and I got sick watching how well Cliff Lee was doing. He was mowing them down, and I overheard a conversation talking about how people need to “root for New York.”

Give me a break. I asked the therapist, who is about as arrogant a Yankee fan as there is, what time the game was. I didn’t have an antagonizing tone or anything, and he replied with this. “What time are the Mets teeing off?” I am supposed to cheer for the same team as this piece of work? I think not.

I need to give a shout out to my dad’s good friend Tim Gallagher, who used to be the Editor in Chief of the Ventura Country Star. He once said to me that if the Yankees were playing Al Quaida in a playoff series, he would root for Al Quaida to sweep.

It’s really about the way the fans treated me when I was growing up. I can remember very vividly the days when the Mets were just awful, and Yankee fans loved it. They loved to take shots at me and make jokes whenever they could, and the animosity just kept on building up inside me.

Now people want me to root for them, which is one of the last things I would do on earth. I would be more likely to do a handstand on the moon for a year than root for the Yankees for one second. Nice analogy right?

I got another story for you. Do you remember the whole John Rocker saga? The Yankees met the Braves in the World Series that year, and my dad told me he might have to root for the Yankees because of what Rocker said about New York. You know how I responded? I said this. “Dad. You make me sick.” I still stand by those words today.

I have plenty of respect for their players and their history. They are the most storied franchise in professional sports, but that doesn’t mean I have to root for them. Let me make my own choice. That’s my right in the United States of America.