I grew up in central New Jersey in the ’70’s. As a kid who loved baseball, I had three choices if I wanted to follow a team on TV: the Mets, the Phillies, or the Yankees. The broadcast signal from Philly wasn’t so great, so that ruled them out. The hapless Mets were unwatchable. And the Yankees were in the midst of a resurgence, playing and winning for the first time since the days of Mantle and Maris.

And then there was what I refer to as “the dirt connection.” Where our new suburban home was constructed, there was once sprawling farmland. If you haven’t heard, there’s nothing like fresh Jersey tomatoes and corn. There’s a reason they call it the Garden State. (There’s more to the state than great beaches, traffic and big hair.) The top soil that had once covered the land where we lived had been stripped away and was rumored to have been trucked off to the Bronx for the new the field in the recently rennovated Yankee Stadium.

So the decision was a no-brainer. I was a Yankee fan. And I still am.

I can't even look at a Reggie Bar

I remember being eight years old, sneaking out of bed during the ‘77 World Series to watch game six from the hallway floor leading to our family room. I watched with subdued glee (remember, I was in hiding) as Reggie Jackson belted three monstrous home runs in a row, each on the first pitch, leading the Yanks to the Series title. (I also have another Reggie memory, which is of me throwing up from eating too many Reggie Bars, but that’s for another day…)

So here I am now, 32 years later, basking in the afterglow of last night’s championship victory over the defending champs, the Phillies. After a nine year hiatus, and for the twenty-seventh time, the Yankees are the last ones standing. But this time, my friends and neighbors aren’t happy, as I am currently stranded in Red Sox nation.

I live in Connecticut, about 75 miles from Boston. As you get closer to New York, you’ll of course find a higher percentage of Yankee fans. But up here, the split is probably 95/5 in favor of the BoSox. And let me tell you, they take the Yankee – Red Sox rivalry very seriously up here. To the point where you have to wonder if there’s a genetic mutation that affects born and bred New Englanders.

According to some Sox fans, they were jinxed with with 86 years of frustration and heartbreak when the Red Sox sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees after the 1919-1920 season. After the Sox had overcame a 3-0 deficit and beat the Yankees in the American League Championship Series in 2004, they went on to win the World Series and the Curse of the Bambino was finally lifted. They celebrated in New England like, well…, like the Red Sox had finally won the Series. Yankee fans either faced brutally relentless taunting, or simply went into hiding.

But as a Yankee fan, it didn’t bother me when the Sox finally won. Afterall, we Yankee fans had enjoyed 26 titles up to that point. Sox fans hadn’t seen a championship since the year the Finnish Civil War began and Czechoslovakia declared independence from Austria-Hungary (that’s 1918, for the history-challenged).

Yet another reason not to switch sides

Despite the fact that Boston won it all in 2004 – and then again in 2007 – I think all those years of losing has altered their DNA and made diehard Red Sox fans a bitter, angry bunch. They secretly, but more often openly, express hatred for the Yankees – and their fans.

I must confess: I do have serious concerns about these people.

While I was at a family kiddie party one afternoon in Massachusetts a few years ago, the Sox lost a close one (remember the word “kiddie” – this wasn’t a bachelor party). After the swearing and tantrums had subsided, one of the fathers apparently noticed a hint of joy on my face. When learning the reason I was not equally distraught, he summoned his 4-year-old son.

Over strolls this little kid wearing an oversized Red Sox hat and shirt, ice cream cake all over his face. His dad looks at him and says, “Now Jimmy, this guy here is a wicked big Yankee fan. What do you have to say about that?”

“THE YANK-EES SUCK! THE YANK-EES SUCK!”

“Now that’s my boy!”

Father and son exchange high fives, and the little mutant confidently wanders off back to his lair, like it was all in a day’s work. Mission complete. While I doubt it was the first time I’d ever been verbally assaulted by a preschooler, I do admit, there was something special about the experience.

@ a Yankee/Red Sox Game

But overall, my family and I do have fun with the rivalry. My wife is a Sox fan, as is our older son, who polarized Daddy when he was two. Our younger son jumped to my defense upon hearing Daddy was terribly outnumbered, and now proudly wears his colors, even in hostile New England territory. I no longer feel so utterly alone.

But I do understand. It is easy to hate the Yankees, George Steinbrenner, and everything they represent. They have money, influence and the support of a huge fan (and tax) base. But when shipbuilder George bought the Yankees from CBS for a paltry $8.7 million in 1973, he bought a team that was holding on for dear life, a former champion whose glory days seemed to be gone forever.

Most baseball enthusiasts who are not Yankee fans are crying and screaming about how New York bought a(nother) championship. No doubt, money was spent to bring the trophy home. Big money. But the people who complain about the Yankees are the same ones who would be celebrating if their team’s owner only had enough balls and smarts to raise and risk that kind of insane coin – just to win.

It was George’s vision and bold action that gradually restored the Yankees to glory, building a multi-billion dollar empire in the process. Yes, mostly thanks to George, payrolls and ticket prices have skyrocketed, and I have to choose between taking my family to a game once a year or contributing to my kids’ college tuition fund (ahhh… screw it, that’s what scholarships are for).

Baseball is no longer just a game. Long gone is any aura of a national pastime. You can bitch and moan about it. Or you can accept it for what it is: Baseball is big business.

The owners who are able to hire the best help (managers and players) are able to offer the best product (team) to the marketplace. Fans (the consumers) are willing to pay good money to enjoy a better product (tickets and merchandise and $12 beers) as long as it makes them feel good (winning). If the team wins, the fans feel good, and they will continue to buy the product, thereby inflating the owner’s bank account and allowing him (or her?) to continually improve the product and retain the help (hopefully). Throw in a lot of hard work and a little luck, and you’ve got yourself a winner.

So the Yankees won the World Series last night. As a Yankee fan, it feels good. All is well in the universe. Things are as they should be. But I know this feeling is fleeting. And in the scheme of things, it means next to nothing – little more than a temporarily pleasant distraction from problems of actual importance.

Nonetheless… life goes on for a Yankee fan stuck in Red Sox land. I’m just happy I didn’t accidentally go with the Mets.

Picture credits: Reggie, Affleck @ Fenway, Angry Boston Kid

Tagged as: business, feel good, life lessons, perspective, sports