Good Guys 2 - Other Good Guys 1

This has been a tough weekend for me. Not quite my dog just died or my girlfriend just broke up with me tough, but hard in its own way. Cleveland vs. New York. That's a hard series for me.

It wasn't always this way. I moved to the Cleveland area in the summer of 1998, originally just for law school. In those days the Yankees were in the middle of their best run in decades, only one World Series win into a four-out-of-five-year stretch. Then, I had no qualms about rooting against the Indians, and mercilessly taunting their fans when they inevitably choked. I had no loyalty to the Tribe or to its supporters, and quite frankly I was still a little miffed at the way they said things like "pop" instead of "soda" and pronounced the word "have" as though it were spelled "haeve" (and let's not even start on the fact that in Ohio, "merry, Mary and marry" are all pronounced the same).

I should pause to remind any Yankee-haters out there (and I know there are many of you) that in the mid 90s, unlike today, the Yankees were not quite the monster they've been since. For one, they'd only won a single World Series since the glory days of the late 70s, and they did that as underdogs against a heavily favored Atlanta team. The year before that, if anyone cares to remember, they dropped a 5 game series to the Mariners in the ALDS -- a Seattle team that was beaten by Cleveland in the next round that year.

From my perspective then, in the summer of '98, I had suffered through some very lean years in the 80s when Don Mattingly's individual stats (and eventually the length of his hair--long story) were the only things worth rooting for in the Bronx. After that, I lived through four years in Boston, when the Sox were by far a better team than the Bombers.

To me, the Yankees were not the Evil Empire. They were the team that taught me to love baseball, the team that I watched with my grandfather and my uncle and my Dad on hot summer days in the Bronx when I was too young to understand why the fans appeared to be booing whenever Lou Piniella came up to bat.

Yes, they had some great teams in those days. The Reggie years. But I didn't really watch in the 70s. The first year of baseball that I actually remember was 1981, when I was 9 and the Yankees lost the Series to the Dodgers. After that, they didn't even make the playoffs until I was a year out of college. The point? When I moved to Cleveland there was no "Yankee guilt" like there is today -- with $200 million-something payrolls and all that. My experience as a Yankee fan had been mostly on the losing end of things, and it was only just beginning to turn around.

Fast forward to this weekend. Now I've lived through four Yankee World Series victories, one over the Mets, which was sweeter than all the chocolate in Hershey, PA. Plus, I've seen them go to the Fall Classic two other times, both of which were enjoyable for their own reasons, even though they ultimately lost. The first was in 2001 when NYC was literally still smoldering, and the other was against the Marlins, which quite honestly felt like an afterthought following Aaron f**kin' Boone's homerun against the bean-eaters. Nothing makes me happier than seeing the heart get cut out of Red Sox Nation with a dull knife. That will never get old.

Anyway, over that same time-frame I've also seen the Indians go from a perenniel contender to a farm team for actual contenders. After feeding the rest of the league with talent like Bartolo Colon, Manny Ramirez, Jim Thome and Richie Sexson, among others, they completely collapsed into a classic small-market team. Coming from NYC I was stunned that the Tribe front office promised their fans, a number of seasons back, that they would contend in a few years, and asked them if they could extend a little patience their way while they tried to rebuild the entire franchise.

And you know what? The fans did it. Oh sure, they complained, they stopped selling out the Jake every night, and they complained some more (who wouldn't?), but when push came to shove, they were always there for their team. They were loyal.

These are the same fans, you have to remember, who saw their beloved football team stolen from them in the 90s, who waited patiently for a replacement and have now supported the new pseudo-Browns with rabid devotion despite the fact that they've proven themselves to be quite happy to act as the NFL's unofficial doormat every year.

These are loyal people. These are good fans. And genuinely nice folks, too.

I love New York, but no one in Cleveland ever threw a battery at an opposing player. At least not that I know of. Yes, they threw beer bottles on the field a few years ago, and they once forfeited a game because of five cent beer night (or was it ten cents?). But they haven't won a World Series since 1948, and the city hasn't won anything (other than indoor soccer) since the early sixties. I'd be questioning their passion if they weren't throwing a thing or two at the field every now and then.

Bottom line? I respect the Cleveland fans, I respect the Indians as a team and I want to see them win. In fact, I've actually gotten used to rooting for them. And how could you not? This current team is going out there with a $67 million payroll and taking on everyone. How can you root against Travis Hafner? Any guy who wears an "I may not be smart but I can lift heavy things" T-shirt is ok in my book.

So, the Yankees taught me to love baseball, and I still say "forest" and "orange" as if they were "far-est" and "AR-inge" (and I still say "soda", damn it) but I consider myself an unofficial Clevelander. I just CAN'T root against Cleveland. Of course, I'll never root against the Yankees either. And there is the rub.

When the Indians were in control during game one I wanted the Yanks to come back. Last night, when the Yankees finally woke up, I wanted the Tribe to come back. And let's just agree not to discuss game two. No professional sporting event should be decided by the intervention of insects. Shame on you Bruce Froemming. The game deserved better than that. The teams deserved better and so did the fans. 'Nuff said.

Game Four is tonight. One of these teams has to lose, and either way I'll be disappointed. But there is a silver lining. Whichever team wins will have my full and fanatical support against the Red Sox.

Last note: Obviously this post had nothing whatsoever to do with writing or dark fiction. But there are two things that will put a hold on my writing. One of them I mentioned in the very first paragraph of this post, and hopefully that interruption has now passed, the second is baseball, and that isn't going away any time soon.