By Alex Ciepley
It’s often easy to figure why you’re a fan of a team. I’m a Cubs fan because my father is a Cubs fan. I was raised on WGN and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. And if there’d ever been any doubt of my eventual loyalties, my fate as a Lover of Lovable Losers was sealed during the heady days of Sandberg and Trout and Durham in 1984. People love their teams because of their family, or geography, or perhaps just as a whim. But no matter the reason, it’s usually easy to find out.
Is a person’s disdain for a team as easy to trace? The Yankees are often called an easy team to hate. But what’s the real motivation behind this feeling? Red Sox fans, gluttons for punishment, may despise the Yankees for beating them year in and year out (at least until this year!). A modern day Mets fan may be down on the Yanks for stealing their teams’ thunder, always one-upping them on the raggy back pages.
I hate the Yankees, too, though in ways both more abstract and more specific. I’m bugged by the way Jeter sticks his ass out on an outside pitch. I shudder at the way A-Rod make millions a year but still frosts his hair like a cheap escort. I can do without Bernie’s record album or Giambi’s deodorant commercials.
