A Nice Yankee Fan?

Being originally from Boston, I have lived through one of the most memorable and renowned rivalries in baseball.  That is, the gory battle to baseball success fought between the Yankees and the Red Sox.  Sometimes support for the Red Sox is disturbing, as is the same for the Yankees.  It scares me to have to admit that recently in Boston a group of boys nearly killed a father in front of his two young daughters simply because he was driving a car with New York plates.  Most of the time however, the rivalry is taken lightly and is thus completely enjoyable.  It has become a way for two total strangers to bond, while throwing quickly thought up witty lines at each other.  Such encounters actually produce some very happy memories.

In Boston like most other baseball-obsessed cities, we like to support our baseball team with caps and shirts.  Many people have a collection of these items.  Even the women who loathe the fact that their boyfriends ignore them for the sport have shirts declaring things like "Red Sox Girl, ‘Nough Said"; "Real Women Don’t Date Yankee Fans"; and of course the classic "I Support Two Teams: the Red Sox and Whoever Beats the Yankees."  Obviously, there are also shirts and caps like these for the (ahem) idiotic Yankee fans.  So, we fans are both easily identified.

I recall one day walking down the street in Boston, wearing a worn out Sox hat, and running into a two men, one of whom was wearing a "disagreeable" shirt. It showed a picture of 26 gigantic Yankee World Series trophies.  Below it were seven practically microscopic Red Sox trophies of the same nature.  The caption read: Hmm.  I think the Red Sox have some catching up to do. 

I was about to approach this man with a witty line, the same line I always used because, well, it is brilliant.  “Excuse me sir but I have to confiscate your shirt,” I would say.  Or maybe I would just walk by and wave my hat at him obnoxiously.  No, I should stick to the line; the line was perfect.  As I neared the man with the shirt though, I was suddenly stopped by his friend.  Without actually touching me, he put his hand right in front of me, separating me from the man I was about to mock.  Before I could say anything, his friend shook his head violently at me, his eyes seemingly begging me to do something.  Or not do something.  I wasn’t quite sure if he was trying to tell me something or he was having a seizure, as I had never seen such spasmodic fits of the head before.  So I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk as the two men kept walking away.  I kept looking at this curious man questionably though until he, turning around and walking backwards, mouthed the words, “He’ll beat you up.”  By the way the man kept his hand on his friend’s back, to keep him moving forward, away from me, I knew I wasn’t being scammed.  This wasn’t some dirty trick these two guys were going to laugh over later, thinking about how they scared the socks off of this pathetic little Red Sox fan.  This was for real.  Looking at the man in the shirt again, I suddenly noticed these bulging arm muscles.  He looked like a body builder!  He barely fit into that shirt, his muscles were so built up!  And to think I was about to oppose this man and face almost certain death. 

That was what I thought then.  So I waited for the two men to turn the corner before I kept walking.  That was when I discovered my folly.  Upon reaching the corner the two men had turned, I found the two men had doubled over with laughter.  They were having trouble standing, they were howling so hard.  In fact, the man with the shirt actually fell down onto the hard red brick sidewalk.  They did see me eventually, and they simply pointed and laughed.  What I did then I cannot tell you.  Believe me, I want to tell you, but such a thing is too inappropriate to be documented forever in ink.  So therefore, I will only say that I was completely humiliated and, to phrase it lightly, got my revenge.