Yesterday was Opening Day for Major League Baseball. It's an exciting time with a certain
electricity in the air. It's the first sign that summer can't be too far off. On Opening Day all teams are equal, even the teams that are predicted to be piss poor.
Growing up a New York Yankees fan I lived through the slim years of the 1980's and the dynasty years of the 1990's. Now, in present day, the Yankees have turned into some sort of traveling freak show. An All-star at every position (with the exception of center field) would seem to be the perfect way to bring about another World Series ring to the Bronx. With all of these all-star caliber players comes a sense of entitlement. Yankees fans deserve to see them win everyday. And why not? We're the best of the best, right? Other teams should just get out of the way, they shouldn't even bother playing. With that sense of entitlement comes cockiness and arrogance. I'll admit, it even gets the best of me sometimes. In fact it got the better of me yesterday. A bet was made between my friend Chad, a Marylander and delirious Baltimore Orioles fan. He asked me who would win Opening Day between the Yankees and the Orioles. I scoffed at him. I laughed like an arrogant prick. "The Yankees!" I pronounced. "Not even a chance the
O's win," I declared. In fact I was so confident that my team would beat the living tar out of the
opposition I agreed to a friendly wager with my fellow baseball friend. If the Orioles lose, Chad would have to wear a New York Yankees shirt to work. An embarrassing moment for him indeed. A lifelong birds fan having to wear a shirt with the logo of the team that has made his team a mockery since the 1996 American League Championship. It would be sweet victory for me indeed. Of course the latter would be the same with me. If the Orioles won on Opening Day, I would have to wear a dirty
birdy O's shirt to my place of business. A wasp's nest of Yankees and
Mets and Red
Sox fans alike. Baseball is a way of life at my job. There isn't a day that goes by, even in the
offseason, that someone isn't discussing New York or Massachusetts baseball. For me to wear this shirt would be nothing short of
sac religious. But why should I worry? The mighty Yankees would crush the feeble Orioles. Not even a lingering thought of loss crossed my mind. The new ace of the staff, CC
Sabathia would be taking the mound. He's as much of a shoe-in for a win than almost anyone else in the league. This bet would surely be mine.
Then something funny happened. Something almost sadly ironic. The Yankees weren't winning. In fact they looked flat out bad. The game was going horribly wrong. CC
Sabathia was getting shelled in his maiden voyage with his new team. He didn't make it out of the fifth inning and he had already given up six runs. My head started to swirl! "This can't be happening!" I thought to myself. "How can they be sucking so badly? It's like they've been drugged! Yeah, yeah, that's it. The Orioles somehow poisoned the Yankees' water supply and that's why they're playing
lackadaisical." Good thing I was being rational about this.
Nine innings and three hours and 15 minutes later it was over. The Yankees had been blown out 10-5 in Opening Day. The unthinkable had happened, the best team in baseball on paper had lost the first game of the season. A Baltimore Orioles shirt will now be gracing it's
presence on my slightly humbled body. Stay tuned next week for a photo of me in said shirt on this very blog.
In the end, it's just one game but it brings you back a little. But not enough for me to stop declaring that the Yankees will have a 161-1 record this year and bring home another World Series title!! Suck on that you stupid Birds!
So this was supposed to be a Nick Markakis shirt. He's only one of the best players in the American League, plus he's on my Fantasy Baseball team. It wouldn't be so bad to wear that shirt, right? He's still a dirty birdie but it's not his fault. They drafted him. However, this is not a Nick Markakis shirt. In fact there are NO Markakis shirts in the entire Albany area. I asked a couple of shop owners if they had any to which the reply was, "Who? All we got are those Ripken shirts." Really? You run a sports store and you don't know who Nick Markakis is? It's not like Baltimore is on the other side of the world. It's a five and a half hour car ride. A 45 minute plane ride. So I held out for awhile thinking a Markakis shirt would spring from the soil after a good soaking rain. No, that didn't happen. So now I own a Cal Ripken Jr. shirt. It's not that it's a bad thing, Cal is awesome in every way imaginable. He makes bald work, not many white guys can pull that off. But, he doesn't play anymore and people who know absolutely nothing about baseball would wear a Ripken shirt because he was "cool" and an "Iron Man." See, if I was wearing a Markakis shirt people would say, "Wow, this cat must know his baseball because I have no f'ing clue who that is, but I could sure go for a slice of Angelfood cake right now."
