Updated: 10/20/2005
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Fred Durst's team
We all know rooting for a bad sports team can feel like being trapped in a bad relationship, with the endless cycle of breakups, heartaches, and reconciliations. But is there something even more deeply dysfunctional about the guilt of being involved with a team that treats you like a king? In simpler terms, is it morally wrong to root for the Yankees? OK, I know I have spent more than my fair share of time on this site criticizing the conduct of the Yankee empire. I have compared them to Satan, repeated someone else's comparison to U.S. Steel, and ripped them for spending money that other teams don't have to create soulless juggernauts loaded with all-stars who don't even know each other's names. I have talked about the arrogance of their announcers, the recklessness of their owner and front office, and the weakness of their centerfielder's throwing arm. I have accused them of perverting the relationship between a fan and his team, and on a larger scale, the connection between a team and its sport, and a sport and its society. I have essentially charged them with ruining professional baseball and I've blamed them for much of the misery of modern society. This is how I treat a franchise that has been nothing but kind to me. The first baseball game I ever watched was Game 6 of the 1977 World Series. Reggie Jackson hit home runs on three consecutive pitches to give the Yankees the championship. I thought, "This baseball is pretty fun." The 26 years since have somehow managed to live up to those expectations: my first full year as a fan was '78, when they came back from 14 1/2 games behind to tie Boston and force the Bucky Dent game, and Guidry was 25-3, possibly a better pitcher's season than anyone's had in the 25 years since. '79 was a washout year and my favorite player, Thurman Munson, died in a plane crash. In '80 and '81 they were back in the postseason and lost ugly both years (3 straight to KC in '80, 4 straight after being up 2-0 to LA in '81), but hey, the postseason was still pretty good back then, and there was always good drama surrounding the franchise. They didn't make it back to the postseason until '95, but they were very competitive for most of the 80's and the mid-90's. Since 1995, they've been in the postseason 8 straight years, with four championships. So since I have watched them, they have won 6 championships, and been in contention for a whole bunch more. They have aggressively pursued and gotten the best players, and hired the most high-profile managers to ride herd. They win so much that being in first place by only three games is grounds for rumors of the manager's imminent dismissal. But something keeps bothering me. I just don't feel right rooting for them. It's not the feeling of inadequacy you might get from going out with someone who's better-looking than you are. It's more the feeling of guilt you might have if you were dating a hot rich girl whose daddy owned Coors. Still, as rotten as I know the Yankees to be, I can't help thinking I've been going about this all wrong, and I'm sure some of my guilt is just my own inability to enjoy good things, right? It's time for a brief point by point analysis of what it means to be a Yankee fan. Actually, I sort of know it means I am going to hell, so I will use this opportunity to justify my continued allegiance to this filthy beast. The perception: The Yankees (George Steinbrenner to be specific) are greedy, refusing to share revenue from their insanely rich TV and endorsement deals with teams in smaller markets, creating a financial imbalance in the game that will prevent those less fortunate teams from ever competing. The Truth as I choose to believe it: The reason the TV revenue is so large is that millions of people want to watch the fucking Yankees. We want to watch them because we are from New York and they are from New York, and they win all the time. New York is packed with millions of us because it's great; Tampa Bay is not-so-packed with less millions of people because it sucks. We are a better city than they are, we deserve a better team. Make Kansas City as good as New York and 10 million people will move there, and soon there will a multi-million-dollar RES network. We buy cars and sports drinks and internet service, and because there are so many of us, Steinbrenner is able to sell tons of advertising on his horrible cable channel. In other words, we are entitled to an expensive, good-ass team because we pay for it. I will never again sneer at people who refer to their favorite team as "us" and "we" -- they have every right to say that, fans own the team, both emotionally and financially. Would baseball be better if it had more revenue-sharing? In some ways, yes, but should teams like the Yankees sacrifice their profits for owners who are just as shady, but much less committed, like Angelos and Pohlad? I dunno. I just watch the games on TV. The perception: Steinbrenner is so rich, and so willing to spend his money on expensive stars, that the Yankees will always be a first division team because of it. Where is the excitement in that? The Truth as I choose to believe it: Steinbrenner wouldn't spend so much money if he didn't think he'd get it back. Let's face it, what every jackass who complains about player salaries being passed on to the fans realizes without even realizing he realizes it is true: Steinbrenner isn't paying these guys; we are. That being the case, it's always exciting to see your investment pay off. When annoying little baseball nerd Cashman and awful tyrannical George go out and get these players, they're really just trying to invest our money in assets that they think will pay off for all of us. Think of them as our baseball brokers. The truth is, they've done a better job at overspending than just about anyone else (2002-2003 Mets? mid-90's Orioles?), and it's not really overspending if you're turning a profit. Think about how much we'd hate Steinbrenner if he didn't go out and buy all those great players with our hard-earned money.
The perception: Yankee fans are obnoxious, arrogant pricks who don't know how good they've got it. The Truth as I choose to believe it: Yeah, I guess so, and Red Sox fans would be the same way if they could win a world series every 85 years or so. It's sour grapes, stinking, festering, sour grapes. I know because I spent the 90's hating the Bulls and their undeserving, fair-weather fans as I watched the Knicks lose to them every year. I still cling to John Starks' dunk like a rabbit's foot, the same way the Red Sox fans talk about Fisk's home run in '75. We're losers for doing that, the same way our teams were (are) losers for failing us in the end, every time. Those two splendid moments, in truth, amount to nothing more than a brief release from the inevitable, final misery. And I for one know how good I've got it with the Yankees. The perception: Steinbrenner's relentless pursuit of new stud players (Giambi, Matsui, Boone) and willingness to cast aside good soldiers (Tino, Ventura, Stanton) and minor league talent (Claussen, Milton, etc.) makes the Yankees little more than a baseball factory, with players being shuffled in and out and the team failing to ever establish an identity, a soul. The Truth as I choose to believe it: Who really gives a shit at the end of the day? Are the minor leagues really any more legitimately connected to the concept of "team" than the Free Agent market? At least Free Agents have the choice of joining the team; there is some sense that they want to be Yankees (or Brewers, etc.). Granted, it's usually money that brings 'em here, but at least it's not something as random as a draft (in other words, at least our players are united by their shared sense of greed). Guys who came up in the minors together are probably full of hatred and competitive jealousy towards each other. And, to spout some oft-spouted BS, it is a business. Tino was great, but we were much better (production-wise, anyway) with Giambi these last two years. It made sense to go after him, although there is a hint of karmic justice in our inability to advance in the postseason last year. The perception: It's all about money, ain't a damn thing funny. The Truth as I choose to believe it: Of course it is. We have more fans, and thus we have more money. We live on top of each other in shitbox apartments that cost ridiculous sums of cash. We pay billions in taxes each year. We step in dog shit on the way to work. Our rats have roaches. We have horrible accents. Our power goes out from time to time. We're on every terrorist's To Do list. For all this, all we expect is that our baseball team beat yours on a regular basis, and they usually accommodate us. Sorry about that. At least we offer the Mets for your amusement. You have backyards, we have the Yankees. You're welcome to come join us here in the big city. Your money might put us over the top next year. Conclusion: While none of this changes the simple truth that the Yankees are a malicious entity that swoops down from the skies, gathering babies in its jaws and chomping them up as it soars above other "big-league" cities, drooling bloody baby crumbs across the countryside, I think I have convinced myself to stop feeling so guilty about it all. After all, we pay more for our team than most people. It's a nasty game; it's not my fault they play it best. Your Responses Pete, fan of 1983 World Champion (and 1997 AL East Division Champion) Baltimore Orioles, replies: "i have read with a mixture of bafflement and amusement your
ongoing apoplexy regarding your yankee fandom. i think you might be overthinking
things a little bit. you are a) from manhattan and b) a baseball fan. who are
you supposed to be rooting for? danny almonte? you are a yankee fan. fuck it.
Ambrose, fan of whichever New York team is higher in the standings, adds: "you sound like a guy trying very, very hard to convince himself of something"
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Retired players on the Yankees 2003 payroll: