The Yankees: What's Not To Love?
By Derek Bunker
For me, these past few weeks have been long. I’ve been to doctor after doctor, all to hear the same thing: "It’s the Yankees, I swear." Okay, they didn’t exactly say that, but they might as well. Like a Ray Bradbury novel, here is why I love the Yankees (in no particular order):
Their Diversity:
After wearing out my sneakers, I drove to Foot Locker to purchase size-12 New Balance. At the checkout counter, I noticed their collection of baseball caps. Or should I say Yankee caps? Out of the 30 hats there, 28 of them had the New York brand on it (yes, I counted). Glossy-eyed, muttering a few "Oh my gosh"’s, and feeling emotions of galling-giddiness and reasonable-rage, I tried to comprehend Yankee logos I’d never even think of: pink, jean, trucker-style, children’s, and what looked like a tie-dye. The other two were the Cardinals and the Angels. In a sarcastic tone, I asked the guy at the counter if he had any Blue Jay caps. He thought for a moment, turned around to scan the shelf, and said, "No. I guess we’re out of stock." I don’t think he got it.
Their Philosophy:
In one of my Psychology textbooks, the author (my hero) starts each chapter with a classic Yogi Berra gem. They usually give me headaches, but my favorite always makes me laugh. I’m sure it’s one we’ve all heard, along with many others ("You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I’m not hungry enough to eat six."). The quote, which introduces Chapter 4: Statistical Identities, is "Baseball is 90% mental— the other half is physical." Thank you Dr. Berra.
Their Respect:
I recently moved to the outskirts of Anaheim. Yes, Angel territory. So, when the Blue Jays came to town, it was a big deal. On the third night I put on my makeshift Toronto shirt (my two real ones were dirty and sitting on my bedroom floor) and headed for Edison Field. As Delgado capped a five-run 3rd inning with a bomb to right, I jumped up and started singing the Canadian National Anthem at the top of my lungs (on a side note, while O Canada was being played during the opening of the game, a little 16-year-old, with his girlfriend, leaned over to me and said, "Dude, like Canada has one of these like songs too?") Anyways, as I sat down I felt something hit my head: a peanut. It turns out two losers (yep, harsh) dressed in full Yankee gear (at an ANGELS game) were the culprits. They flipped me the bird.
Their Intelligence:
I know I’m stereotyping, but last week I found out one of my best friends was "a born-fan of the Yankees." They’re all ‘born’ fans. Needless to say, when asked who her favorite Yankee was, she went blank. Not even the quick, "Derek Jeter!"
Their Bravery:
I will never forget when the Yankees were hailed as heroes. Being awarded for their "heroism," President George -Dubbayuh- Bush publicly honored them. Among such "heroes": Don Zimmer, George Steinbrenner.
There are many, many more reasons why I love (hate) the Yankees, but I’m starting to feel sorry for them. From the philosophy of Berra: "I didn’t really say everything I said." Oh, Yogi, don’t be so modest
