A New York Sports Fan's Memoir

The general opinion is that there are two types of sports fans in New York.  There are the Traditionalists.  They root for the teams that have been fixtures in New York since a time when the 3rd Avenue El carried people between the Bronx and Manhattan; The Yankees, Giants, Rangers, and Knicks.  Then there are the Upstarts.  They root for the Mets, Jets, Islanders, and Nets.  Of course, fans of the Devils are in a category by themselves.

So, if you root for the Yankees, you must also be a Giants fan.  If you root for the Mets, you must also like the Jets - they rhyme, after all.  But there are exceptions to this rule.  There are plenty of people whose loyalty spans Traditional teams and the Upstarts.  I'm one of them.

My loyalty truly stems from the people who introduced me to the games I watch today.  For instance, my brother-n-law from Long Island introduced me hockey, which is why a kid from Jersey, who moved to Dallas, is an Islanders fan.

While basking in the afterglow of the Giants' Super Bowl victory, I was reminded of my uncle, with whom I watched a few Giants games as a kid.  He has been a loyal Giants fan since the days of Y.A. Tittle, and I really respect that.  He stuck with them through the dark ages of the seventies, and on into the glory years of the eighties.  I went with him to my first and only Giants game at the Meadowlands during the illustrious Ray Handley era.  Even now, from miles a way, we have a common bond in our fanship of the Giants.

I've experienced a new bond in recent years around the boys in blue and red with my nephew.  He flew here to Dallas from California to go with me to the Giants - Cowboys season opener this year.  During the playoffs, we text messaged each other after every win. 

My brother introduced me to baseball.  While he wasn't a huge sports fan, his contrarian nature drew him to the Mets.  Because I wanted to do everything my heroic older brother did, I began to follow the Mets as well.  And since it is in my nature to obsess over things, I now write a blog about the boys from Queens.

My parents span baseball and football.  They grew up in the Bronx, fans of the Yankees.  My brother and I converted them.  They are now loyal Mets fans, though my father, bless his heart, still wants to see the Yankees do well, because they are from New York also.  He also roots for both the Giants and Jets.  Is it any wonder he can't decide between a Republican or a Democrat at election time?  He just has a gift for sympathizing with both sides of the coin.  My eminently wise mother, however, now roots against the Yankees.

My dad and I share countless long-distance phone calls during baseball season, especially after a big win or loss.  We also shared in the exultation of every Giants playoff win this season.  The only thing better than watching the amazing run by the G-men was sharing it with my father.  Watching David Tyree out-wrestle the artificially-muscled Rodney Harrison for the football on the Giants' final drive wasn't bad either.

Now, with the dark baseball offseason behind us, and the buzz of the Giants' victory still lingering in the hearts of us Traditional Upstarts, we celebrate the arrival of spring training, and another season of bonding with the people I always think of when the Mets take the field.