…is my friend.
That’s what I should be feeling right now, as the Cleveland Indians give the Boston Red Sox quite a run for their money. I should be cheering them on, hoping they’ll cream the Sox, arch rivals of my Yankees.
I’d love to be feeling that way, and if the Sox were up against any other team I probably would. As it is, I simply cannot bring myself to root for a team that has that demented-looking cartoon as its logo. I don’t mind their name. I don’t think they should be called Native Americans. I just can’t stand that racist ‘Indian chief’ on all their stuff.
Which enemy is my friend?
So guess what? I’m rooting for the Red Sox. Never thought I’d utter such blasphemy, especially while the Yankees are in disarray (I’ll post on that another time.) But a funny thing happened when I started watching the ACLS–I began to see my rivals as old friends. After all, I know only one player on Cleveland’s team–the ubiquitous and likable Kenny Lofton–but I’m very familiar with Manny, Big Papi, Mike Lowell and the rest. I’ve even been ogling Ramirez, who’s looking pretty hot since he lost some weight.
Speaking of Manny…the debate about whether he should have celebrated one of his home runs when the team was losing is an idiotic tempest in a teapot. The subsequent outraged fan reaction to his shrugged response–So what if we lose?–is also idiotic. If you ask me, Manny’s attitude is the healthiest of any player in baseball: he loves to play the game, period.
So I’m looking forward to Game #6 tonight. I just hope the Yankee hierarchy doesn’t find out I’m cheering for the wrong team…then again, if I were excommunicated I’d end up in some pretty good company: