My Father Knows Why the Yankees Suck

I recently moved to New York, which really should come to no surprise to anyone. I have basically been coming out here once a year since I was 17. Both of my parents were born and raised in New York, so the transition back has been relatively easy.

One area it hasn’t been as easy is baseball. You see, I like baseball. Hell, who I am kidding, in terms of sports I like to watch is baseball, and, well baseball. I understand it. My entire life, I have been raised to hate the Yankees. My Dad is a diehard Met fan, as I said he is from New York. He raised my sister and I to believe that the Yankees were the anti-Christ. My sister and I have gone as far as to say that in terms of dating, we draw the line at Yankee fans. And it’s a fact. We hate the Yankees.

But living out here, I am asked if I like the Yankees. The short answer is no. The long answer is I not only dislike them, but think various Yankee players are demons… I hate them.

Well, that doesn’t fly so much out here. When I say I hate the Yankees, I mean it, and a few people have assumed that it’s because I am a Met fan. But nope, I can’t say that I like them much better than the Yankees. In fact, my team will always be the Arizona Diamondbacks.

In 2001 my father had season tickets to the Arizona Diamondbacks and I went to two of the seven World Series games. I watched the Arizona Diamondback kick the Yankee’s butt, and will forever be a fan of theirs because they did what the Texas Rangers did last season.

Usually in my blogs, I explain with reason why I believe something I believe. I have evidence, facts, figures, but today, let me just say, there is no reason besides my father usually always knows best, and he knows that the Yankees suck. I’m listening to my Dad on this one. 

(Last year I made up a fun rhyme about how bad the Yankees are. It went like this: “Yankee Doodle went to town riding on a pony, the Texas Rangers kicked their ass and had some pepperoni.”).

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