I was interviewed today and, not surprisingly, the first question was: “So how’d you get to be such a Yankee fan?”
Such a Yankee fan. As if there is any other way to be a fan?
I explained that my Yankee-ness kicked in when I was a little girl.
There must have been something in the drinking water at my house. I learned how to say “Casey Stengel” before I could say “Cinderella.”
When I was in high school I fell in love with Mickey Mantle.
I wanted to marry him, even though he was already married and I was the biggest prude ever. (Do people still use the word “prude?”)
After college I did get married – to a guy named Paul.
He played a nice game of golf, but wasn’t much of a baseball fan. How could it possibly work out between us?
I re-focused on the Yankees, even though these were the lean years with “stars” such as HoCo
and Big Hair.
A few years later I tied the knot again – with another man named Paul.
(Note: Having husbands with the same first name really makes life easier. You never call out another name in your sleep by mistake.)
But alas; this Paul was a Mets fan. We tried to make it work, but how could it?
Single again, I threw myself back into the Yankees, idolizing Don Mattingly and going to games whenever I could.
In 1991 I finally found true love with Michael.
He was a Yankee fan too, so I took another walk down the aisle.
Michael and I watch every game together, but he’s a different type of fan than I am. He’s mellow. He enjoys every contest, win or lose. He actually thinks tension-filled pitcher’s duels are fun.
I, on the other hand, am driven insane by close games.
I have no sense of perspective and go mental when the Yankees lose.
If you heard me yelling at the TV whenever Kyle Farnsworth would serve up a bomb to the #8 hitter in an opposing lineup, you would think I should be locked up.
But as crazy as my team makes me, they’ve also brought me more happiness than I ever thought possible. When they win, it’s the best feeling in the world.
I know the above photo looks like an ad for a laxative or a feminine hygiene product, but I couldn’t find a good one of a woman jumping for joy.
Oh, wait. Here it is.
This pretty much sums it up.