One night in Long Island

I have been taking broadsides from some chap from NY over the last few days, it started as a baseball discussion and fell slowly into a mud-throwing exercise which culminated in him telling me (and hundreds of other people on the online forum involved) about how he once urinated on the wall at Fenway park.

That reminded me of a Yankee fan I met once who I shall never forget. Never even got his name, just an unforgettable character.

Situation was, I was in NY for the first two games of the ALCS in 2004, and was in Long Island the night of game three at Fenway, the night NY whomped Boston 19-8. Come to think of it, that might have been the last time New York held an advantage over Boston. Write that one down Yankee fans, October 16th 2004, the last night of the Yankees 'dynasty'.

I was with a friend who really didn't know much about baseball but was enjoying the atmosphere as NY revelled in their apparent dismantling of their old foe. She didn't blink twice when we went out for the night and I wore a Red Sox cap, with a white shirt and jeans. Almost daring the bouncers not to let me in anywhere at all that coming evening I suppose. We wanted to eat before going out so chose TGI Fridays as they had several huge screens with game three on. It wasn't looking good. NY were starting to pull away and the 2004 season was fading away fast. Nobody bothered me at all at the bar, in fact I actually ended up in a pretty decent baseball conversation with a couple of Yankee fans who suggested NY might take the ALCS but matched up poorly with the NL teams in terms of the World Series.

It was once the host showed us to a table with a great view of the massive plasma screen beaming the game out that trouble started. Not long after we sat down a 40-something, well dressed Yankee fan strolled by our table. He was one of those guys with his keys and phone attached to his belt, in case of emergency I guess, black curly hair, angry, screwed up face. He kind of reminded me of a fatter, uglier Harold Ramis.

Harold Ramis - probably way nicer than the fella in this story

The first interaction was he shouted at my friend 'where did you pick this ****-**** up baby?'. My friend was foreign and when she replied quietly that we were just trying to enjoy our dinner he roared laughing and said 'ah he probably paid for your services, right?' in a thick Brooklyn accent. He then heard my accent and got louder still, shouting, 'This is great, a ****** Mick and a ******* Russian, rooting for the Red Sox!' He then got serious and lent over the table, practically pushing his chubby elbows into our food. 'Let me tell you something, the Red Sox will lose, the Red Sox always lose, always!' at this stage he was shouting, and scaring the children at the table beside us.

''The Red Sox will lose, the Red Sox always lose!''

I stood up and we did that inane thing where guys bump chests, trade insults and threats, but nothing happens, until the host finally arrived and suggested the man leave. Naturally, he went ballistic. He started screaming about how this is America and an American shouldn't be thrown out when it was the Mick and Ruskis fault! Imagine, the shock and shame of it all. Eventually,in an impressively short period of time, two burly police men arrived on the scene, and handcuffed the Yankee fan who was now practically frothing at the mouth in anger. As they led him away shouting, his face actually purple with rage, he screamed his mantra 'The Red Sox will lose, they always lose!'

Last thing I heard from him was when he turned to one of the police officers (who was, ironically, Irish) and said 'I don't care that the bastard was Irish, he's a ****** Red Sox fan!'

Next day, as I travelled home, nodding in a kind of mutual regret at other Red Sox cap wearing fans who walked past me in JFK's quiet international terminal, I couldn't get the loud mouthed, ignorant fool's voice out of my head. Maybe the Red Sox will always lose? Maybe that's just how it is. Maybe, and this was a horrific thought, maybe the Red Sox will never win the World Series in my lifetime. Not something I enjoyed bouncing around my head on the long flight.

Arriving back in Dublin, the plane had to park away from the terminal, we had to alight down the steps and walk a few hundred yards to same. It was a beautiful, fresh morning and the cool air hit my face as I walked down the steps and turned on my phone. There was one new text, from my Dad. It just said 'You never know!'. I flipped on the WAP and went to the score from game four, played at Fenway while I was in the air, Red Sox 6 Yankees 4. The legend of Big Papi was born, and thousands of hopes and dreams started to lift again after the crushing weekend.

The rest, as they always say, is history. Boston took the ALCS, no, they grabbed it with both hands and yanked it out of New Yorks feeble grip. New York became the first MLB team ever to lose a 3-0 lead in the ALCS, proving themselves a heartless bunch, a tag they have not been able to shake off since. A poor shadow of the great 90's Yankee teams. Swept aside by Boston as it moved inexorably towards history.

I wish i could meet that angry, ignorant Yankee fan again. If only to thank him. His ugly tirade marked a change where Boston became the superior team by far, with its deep farm system, a rotation the envy of nearly all the major leagues and a lineup full of young, talented players who should grace Fenway Park for years to come. I hope that angry Yankee fan is wondering what happened to his beautiful Yankees, how did they get so old so fast, how did the lineup turn into an old folks home, how did the farm get depleted in the blink of an eye, and why, oh why do they have to suffer that poster boy of choke, A-Rod?

I really, really, hope he is enjoying how things have turned out. I know I am.



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