Monday, October 26, 2009

A World of a Decision and a new Vote!!!

It's always been easy fan management. The Yankees have been my team since I went to my first game in 1980 at the impressionable age of four (a bad season for the pinstripes, which is why you can never accuse me of being a fair-weather fan) and I have rooted for them ever since.

My mother was born and raised in the Bronx and I taught, lived, and was proposed to in that mighty borough as well (shout out to Van Cortland park!) and so my loyalty is as long as it is heartfelt. My brothers, father, and very vocal uncles will be happy to expound on baseball's most successful team and their legacy of the most esteemed (and revered) boys of summer...and they will also be happy to poke fun at my very passionate husband's team, which resides just two bridges and one little ride down the turnpike away.

And about that husband.....

My husband has never worn anything that isn't Phillies red (except, of course, the occasional Eagles green). He was raised on baseball, fed a full diet of Mike Schmidt, Richie Ashburn, Steve Carlton,Curt Schilling (whom he continued to root for even when he went rogue), and the charmer of all charmers, the mighty Tugger. He was trained to throw a change-up before he could hold a pencil and I even had to step in when he attempted to duct tape our own son's right hand behind his back in hopes of making him a lefty pitcher. He has also taught his children to cheer, "Go Phillies!", "Bomb!". and "Rauuuuul!"

And about our family.....

We have such great memories involving the Phanatic, their first game (that was full of huge homeruns), and tons of cute apparrel that never looks so cute on an adult as it does a three-footer in pig-tails.

What's a girl to do????

And who are you rooting for??????


Anonymous said...

When your husband asked for you hand he vowed to treat you right and that included becoming a Yankee fan.

Sultan of Swat said...

I'm a little that a crack in the armor I read? A hint of compassion? Ney, say it isn't so! Has the pinstripes of our youngest BBQ faded? Blaspheme!