You Got What You Needed-ish
The Yankees lost and I have nothing to say. The Yankees lost and now I have nothing to do for the rest of the month. The Yankees lost and I didn't do anything except take a sip of beer, finish of my slice of pizza and let my eyes drfit over to the Steelers/Chargers game - the thing everyone else in the bar was watching when they weren't watching the Yankees lose, like I was. I like to watch the Yankees lose and on Monday night I got my wish.
So I sat there with no one to rejoice with. I simply sent and recieved and tiny handful of text messages and watched the commercials pop on after the game. Well, shit, I thought. Now what.
You see, to me, October means one thing: baseball. Or at least that's what I thought.
"Why do you hate the Yankees so much, Alli?" my friend Doug asked me at the bar Monday night. I could have rattled off a laundry list, but instead I just said, I'm an Orioles fan, and let him turn back to his friend and their pitcher of Miller Lite and their comments that they "might have found the only person who still watches baseball," while I turned back to the TV and watched the Yankees lose alone.
The problem, I think, is that I got what I wanted and when you get what you want things get all kinds of messed up. What do you fight for? I wanted the Yankees to lose and they did and now I don't know what to do with myself.
Tuesday night I sat in pub quiz next to my dad. The White Sox/Angels game was on, and he asked me, "So.... who do we want to win in this series, Alli?" and I looked at him and he looked at me and I said, "Um... well... the White Sox, I guess...."
"Yeah," he said back to me.
"I mean, when was the last time they were in the ALCS? The Angels have been in like every other year for the last 10 years or something, right?"
"Pretty much..."
So I guess we're White Sox fans now or something because as Orioles fans and Yankees haters, that's what we're good at - rooting for the underdog.
But the thing with being a Yankee hater is that it's a much more complicated thing than just hating baseball. It's pretty much a socio-political economic thing. I mean, hating the Yankees is hating all that is wrong with the world. Just Sunday night I was explaining to my Brit that one way to hate the Yankees is because of the lack of a salary cap in baseball and how "American" that is - how they can buy the best players, create a virtual fantasy team and keep their players with them because no one else could pay them as much, and who wants to leave a bunch of winners anyway? You hate the Yankees because having life be easy for you is bullshit. You like to fight. Hating the Yankees is hating a dominant legacy, it's about being for the little guy, rooting for the underdog, it's about having hope that the little guy will win. It's about being pro-perseverance, it's about the willingness to struggle, to hurt, to be outnumbered and let down every single year, year after year.
Being a Yankees hater is one of the most passionate American things you can do.
Until, well, you get your wish.
And then all of a sudden you're not that interested in a sport that you love, the little guy became the big guy, the big guy is a little guy, your fight is over, and October might become about football season afterall.
Monday night my friend Doug asked me a question I've never been asked before. He said to me, "Alli, do you love the Orioles more than you hate the Yankees? Don't you find it a little f'ed up that you hate a team more than you love your own?"
And all of a sudden I was scared. Was I a hater? Is half of my love for baseball entirely rooted in spite, revenge, and complete and total shit talking? I think it is. Most of what I love about the sport is about bringing the big guy down.
I am a horrible, hypocritical person.
So the big guy is down now and I, and millions of other Americans, got our wish. So now we're left with some sort of empty void that arrived two weeks prematurely. The Yankees lost and, well, now what?
Go White Sox?
So I sat there with no one to rejoice with. I simply sent and recieved and tiny handful of text messages and watched the commercials pop on after the game. Well, shit, I thought. Now what.
You see, to me, October means one thing: baseball. Or at least that's what I thought.
"Why do you hate the Yankees so much, Alli?" my friend Doug asked me at the bar Monday night. I could have rattled off a laundry list, but instead I just said, I'm an Orioles fan, and let him turn back to his friend and their pitcher of Miller Lite and their comments that they "might have found the only person who still watches baseball," while I turned back to the TV and watched the Yankees lose alone.
The problem, I think, is that I got what I wanted and when you get what you want things get all kinds of messed up. What do you fight for? I wanted the Yankees to lose and they did and now I don't know what to do with myself.
Tuesday night I sat in pub quiz next to my dad. The White Sox/Angels game was on, and he asked me, "So.... who do we want to win in this series, Alli?" and I looked at him and he looked at me and I said, "Um... well... the White Sox, I guess...."
"Yeah," he said back to me.
"I mean, when was the last time they were in the ALCS? The Angels have been in like every other year for the last 10 years or something, right?"
"Pretty much..."
So I guess we're White Sox fans now or something because as Orioles fans and Yankees haters, that's what we're good at - rooting for the underdog.
But the thing with being a Yankee hater is that it's a much more complicated thing than just hating baseball. It's pretty much a socio-political economic thing. I mean, hating the Yankees is hating all that is wrong with the world. Just Sunday night I was explaining to my Brit that one way to hate the Yankees is because of the lack of a salary cap in baseball and how "American" that is - how they can buy the best players, create a virtual fantasy team and keep their players with them because no one else could pay them as much, and who wants to leave a bunch of winners anyway? You hate the Yankees because having life be easy for you is bullshit. You like to fight. Hating the Yankees is hating a dominant legacy, it's about being for the little guy, rooting for the underdog, it's about having hope that the little guy will win. It's about being pro-perseverance, it's about the willingness to struggle, to hurt, to be outnumbered and let down every single year, year after year.
Being a Yankees hater is one of the most passionate American things you can do.
Until, well, you get your wish.
And then all of a sudden you're not that interested in a sport that you love, the little guy became the big guy, the big guy is a little guy, your fight is over, and October might become about football season afterall.
Monday night my friend Doug asked me a question I've never been asked before. He said to me, "Alli, do you love the Orioles more than you hate the Yankees? Don't you find it a little f'ed up that you hate a team more than you love your own?"
And all of a sudden I was scared. Was I a hater? Is half of my love for baseball entirely rooted in spite, revenge, and complete and total shit talking? I think it is. Most of what I love about the sport is about bringing the big guy down.
I am a horrible, hypocritical person.
So the big guy is down now and I, and millions of other Americans, got our wish. So now we're left with some sort of empty void that arrived two weeks prematurely. The Yankees lost and, well, now what?
Go White Sox?
posted by AllDeTime at 1:13 PM
1 Comments:
There's nothing wrong with being a hater in this scenario. With their 26 World Series titles in the last 100 years, if the Yankees took a century off from playing baseball, we could go that entire time without any team coming close to winning as many titles. Their last championship was only five years ago, and it's not like they've been missing the playoffs since then.
I can relate to your feeling, though. It's like the post-revenge-Inigo-Montoya syndrome. Each October - although I now hate baseball - I keep a quiet vigil over the box scores as I wait for the Yankees to lose. Once the mission is accomplished, I can breathe a sigh of relief. But spring training will be here sooner than you think, so hate on!
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