American Classic

After a wonderful weekend out in the Hamptons, complete with bbqs, Wolffer Vineyard visits, a park softball game, afternoons on the beach, a Southampton Social club appearance and a bonfire to end the summer, I made my way back to the city for a baseball game. Leaving our house for a final Twice Upon an Overpriced Bagel stop and a final vegetable hoarding at the Farm Stand, we missed the parking lot traffic on 27 and cruised right into the Bronx. Thanks should be given here to the 3G iPad for navigating our way. Now, being a Massachusetts girl, I have found myself between a rock and a hard place when it comes to being a sports fan: Boston vs. NY. This infamous, ongoing, and brutal battle between the two cities has become quite a point of conflict for me. Growing up with a sports fanatic brother and dad, I had no choice but to root for the Red Sox, cheer for the Bruins, holler for the Patriots - and I loved being a Boston/NE fan. However, I was no sports fanatic and couldn't list a roster. So when I moved to NYC and was inundated with Rangers, Knicks, and of course, Yankees fans, my Boston cheers were silenced. And I must be honest, when I am asked to a Knicks/Rangers/Yankees game, I won't turn down an invite because I love, love going to sports games. Everything from hockey to football to baseball, I want to go and I want to be part of the crowd and cheer for a team and bask in the American glory of it all.

Needless to say, my loyalties are slowly switching. My brother, father, best friend since I was 10, and basically all my high school friends will not greet this transition well. I am prepared for that. Yesterday, while sitting a few rows back from third base, sipping on a cold beer, basking in the sunlight, and cheering for Montero's first home run, I couldn't help but grow an attachment to the Yankees. Plus, B has season tickets and he won't let me within two feet of them if I pledge allegiance to the Sox (same goes for Rangers, and I am sucker for hockey players). Sorry I'm not sorry - New York is becoming my home now and the cheerleader in me wants to root for the home team. As I sang "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" this Labor Day, sitting next to the NY Fire Dept crew wearing memorial 9/11 Tshirts, among fans boasting their navy and white, I felt overwhelmed with a sense of patriotism and pride I hadn't felt in a long time. Baseball truly is an American Classic, no matter who you're rooting for.

On our way back to the car, I made a street purchase, bought myself a navy hat, and wore it proudly into the bustling streets of Manhattan.