The New York Yankees did it again, making their way to their 40th appearance at the fall classic and going for their 27th World Series Championship.
It’s been 10 years since I’ve moved to the west coast and the fallout of a Yankees’ win has never been more surreal for me. Let me explain.
For 30+ years I lived in New York, where there were really only two teams: The Yankees and Mets. For most New Yorkers, you’re either one or the other. There is no middle ground. Fortunately for me, I had family members that were Met fans, so while the Yankees were THE TEAM in our house, the Mets were still a team that we routed for (assuming they weren’t playing the Yanks.) This was no small feat considering even the Yankee Stadium box seats and Bleacher Bums can’t get along. The division was understandable. We’re New Yorkers after all, but they’re not like that anywhere else, right? Especially not in California.
Fast forward to Friday. I’m in a bookstore and a rather loud clerk is complaining to his buddies about how much the Yankees sucked, needed to buy their championships, were all on steriods, and were bound to be embarrassed the Yankees this coming weekend.
Really? I don’t get it, seriously. Why spend so much negative energy on anything?
Feel free to hit me back with any explanations.
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