Root, root root for the home team
Or any team but the Yankees, really.
When I was growing up in Boston, I didn't have a care in the world when it came to baseball. It was boring and slow and meant for guys. Then, when I turned 21, baseball became a new reason to go out drinking with friends and meet guys, so I developed a soft spot in my heart for it (and probably a soft spot on my liver as well).
Living in New York, it was fun rooting for the enemy. I couldn't walk the streets of Manhattan in my Red Sox hat without getting heckled, and victory was ultra-sweet last year probably because I didn't have to share it with 8 million people.
This year, the Red Sox retired the season early, but the Angels just beat the Yanks, so I'll adopt a new home team for the time being. After all, "my enemy's enemy is my friend."
When I was growing up in Boston, I didn't have a care in the world when it came to baseball. It was boring and slow and meant for guys. Then, when I turned 21, baseball became a new reason to go out drinking with friends and meet guys, so I developed a soft spot in my heart for it (and probably a soft spot on my liver as well).
Living in New York, it was fun rooting for the enemy. I couldn't walk the streets of Manhattan in my Red Sox hat without getting heckled, and victory was ultra-sweet last year probably because I didn't have to share it with 8 million people.
This year, the Red Sox retired the season early, but the Angels just beat the Yanks, so I'll adopt a new home team for the time being. After all, "my enemy's enemy is my friend."
Labels: New York
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home