Call it sour grapes, but I'd like to take an icepick, and stab it into the spine of all these prototypical Yankees fans. How can you tell which is a prototype, you ask? Here are some tell tale signs:
An exorbitant amount of Yankees apparel. Oh, you like the Yankees. The hat told me. Then the jacket reminded me. By the time I saw the T-shirt, I felt like gouging your eyes out, you vacuous sheep!
Old allegiances. You know the kind to expect. These are the people that would go out and get some ultra-cool Bash Bros. tattoo because it was the cool thing to do. Then, they moved onto the Twins when Jack Morris threw 10 strong ones in game 7 way back when - probably just a T-shirt or hat for that one. He was old, the time was running low, and even they knew it. Next up, of course, the Toronto Blue Jays. Then the Cleveland Indians. Remember them? Sure you do. You loved them for so long in the late 90s. And now you've fucking tossed them aside in favor of the Yankees. Of course, there have been a few one night stands in the mix. The White Sox, when Frank Thomas was unstoppable and Wilson Alvarez still had his own rotator cuff. The Mariners, probably twice. Once when they beat the beloved Yankees on Griffey's double, and again when they set the MLB record for wins. But the Yankees always take you back, don't they? You know why? Because they don't fucking care about the fans.
Speaking of which, I hate the fucking New York Yankees' fans. Admittedly, I used to be one. Then, they got soulless. How the hell do you not renew Don Mattingly's contract? He wanted to play, and you fuckers don't even give him the time of day. Did anyone else notice? NO. Why? Because the Yankees weren't that good. You bandwagon fans never fucking watched Willie Randolph play, did you? You probably don't even know that he's an assistant coach now.
That brings up my next point. These are the most clueless fans EVER. Here is a conversation that I overheard at school in the beginning of September.
Yankees Fan (decked out in the hat and shirt bearing the team's logo): I went to see the Yankees play in Toronto this weekend.
Douchebag (since only douchebags are friends with Yankees fans): Oh, how was it?
Yankees Fan: It was sweet. It was so cool. As soon as we got to our seats, the first Yankees batter we saw hit a home run.
Now, let this sink in. This bastard dropped at least 100 American dollars to go see his "favorite team" play. And he doesn't even know the players. Yeah, you're not just rooting for them because they win, big guy.
Then, you get these fucking celebrities. I hate celebrities as it is. By and large, the movies they make are IMMENSE wastes of time, they get ridiculous amounts of publicity, and people fawn over them because they're so and so. They spend ungodly amounts of money on tickets, so they can look like the biggest fans, when they're just using that as a status symbol or a cheap way to get their face on TV. You can all go fuck off for liking the Yankees, or one of these pieces of shit that you adore.
And before you email me in a fit, saying, "d00d, I can name all the players on the Yankees. ! 4m l337", consider this. The Yankees buy their championships. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Yes, there is some revenue sharing in baseball. But, these teams get a percentage of the amount that the Yankees go over the limit. So, this year, with their budget in the nieghborhood of 160 mil, a team like Kansas City may see 3-4 mil of that. Not too shabby when that amounts to 10%-ish of their payroll. But then you look at the fact that teams like the Yankees, Red Sox, Rangers, Orioles, Dodgers, et cetera drive up the market value of players. Seriously, 25.2 million per year for a short stop? Think about that. That's over two-thirds of the budget of a few teams. So basically, the capitalist pigs that are the Yankees exploit the system by driving up market values, so small market teams can't compete unless they have God-like foresight, a la Billy Beane. Yeah, there's a lot to love there.
And remember, Chazz Palminteiri said it best: "See if you father can't pay the rent, go ask Mickey Mantle and see what he tells you. He don't care about you, why care about him? Nobody cares."