Thread: Recognizing a Yankees "Fan"
10-17-2003, 09:57 AM #1
Recognizing a Yankees "Fan"
In the name of journalistic integrity, I fully admit to being a life-long Red Sox fan, having attended my first game before I could walk and probably having averaged 15-20 games a year during most of my childhood. That being said, I have, over the years, noticed a *very* disturbing trend in baseball. Putting aside for a moment the fact that it does seem possible to buy a championship and not arguing that as the disturbing trend (hell, Manny makes more than any Yankee, so the sox are trying to do the same...they just don't have pockets deep enough), the "disturbing trend" of which I speak is a phenomenon I have dubbed the "Woodworks Theory of Accomplishment and Cognitive (dis)Association". Simply put, this theory argues that, while there exist "real" Yankees fans for sure, between 80-95% of their fan base is comprised of individuals who are not only "true" Yankees fans, but not even true "baseball fans" who come out of the woodworks when the Yankees are doing well. This 80-95%, my colleagues and I theorize, are individuals attending second rate schools or holding second rate jobs in either of which case, they must daily confront not only their insignifance and inability to act upon "the sytem" (but rather to be acted upon as incapable subjects), but the inescapable fact that their positions in life are fairly solidified with no real hope of rising above their situation. Through cognitive association with The Yankees and a corollary cognitive disassociation with their lives, these individuals are allowed to temporarily escape from these realities in much the same way a drug addict might use his "fix" to escape from similar stark realities.
As these people are in dire need of immediate help, my colleagues and I have identified several telling characteristics that can allow you to diagnose someone in your life as a TAYF (Temporary Association Yankee Fan). It is imperative that you familiarize yourself with this list.
*TAYFs, if in the 22-30 year old range, as a good majority are, invariably covered their boyhood rooms with Michael Jordan posters. This is yet another frightening example of the desparation these people exhibit in attempting to somehow associate themselves with "the best".
*During the 1985 Pats versus Bears Superbowl, these individuals, though not from Chicago, rooted for the Bears and sung along to the "Superbowl Shuffle" simply because it was the "safe bet", both in terms of the Vegas odds and the chance of positive cognitive association.
*A TAYF will, almost without fail, cite Tiger Woods as his favorite golfer.
*If a TAYF is asked to name his or her five favorite films, at least four these films are certain to have been "tops at the box office" for an absolute minimum of one week. It is more likely the case that at least three or four of these films are among the top 100 grossing films of ALL time, such is the TAYF's pathetic desire to be associated with anything purported to be "better".
*Very often, TAYFs are the same people who incessantly wear Nikes.
*TAYFs are often known to garner most of their fashion accessory sense from whatever the film of the moment is. Take sunglasses for example. A TAYF, due to his insecurities, likely wore the T2 glasses in 1992, Matrix glasses in 2000 and so on.
*Hailing from New Jersey, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, etc, the TAYF will attempt to rationalize themselves as a RYF (Real Yankees Fan) through some sort of weak connection to NYC. Common are such claims as "My dad grew up in the Bronx" or the even weaker "My Dad went to college in NYC". Those truly grasping will point to the fact that "their cousin is from Albany" in a pathetic attempt to somehow associate themselves with NYC so that they can therefore rationalize their association to the Yankees in a way that doesn't force the id or ego to confront it's own illusions.
*Perhaps the most revealing action that betrays one's "TAYFness" is the vocality of "cheering". The TAYF rarely cheers for the Yankees so much as he cheers for the demise of the Yankee's opponent. A deeper examination reveals why this is so; it's a classic example of the very self-loathing which leads to the TAYF condition. Despite all the psychological illusions in the world, a TAYF can never 100% believe that he is one of life's winners, as the reptilian portion of the brain refuses to allow such internal contradictions without a resulting schizoprhenia (which many TAYFs eventually exhibit, claiming to be from NJ when the Devils or Nets are winning). Thus, by vociferously jeering the other team and cheering for ITS misfortunes as opposed to the Yankees' fortunes, they are essentially, in the only way they can without admitting their own worthlessness, jeering themselves and their positions in life by enacting out those fantastical actions on the opposing team. To make it clear, a RYF says "Way to go Yanks!!! Clutch hitting boys!!!" while a TAYF says something to the effect of "Red Sox suck!!! The curse is alive!!". In actuality, the only curse is the curse of diminished genetics the possess or inordinate amount of lead paint chips they consumed as toddlers.
*In communications, such as a message board, RYFs (and indeed "real" fans of any team) will voice support for their team independently and not in reaction to the praise of other teams or recent actions. A RYF would have, back in June or July, been in the lounge or the sports area of a forum such as this extollinng on the virtues of the Yankees as opposed to the TAYF, who makes his or her first real post on the subject after they clinch a World Series berth. (AR members beware, as we have identified several such TAYFs on this board...let us try to get them the help they need).
Last edited by BigGreen; 10-17-2003 at 10:03 AM.
10-17-2003, 10:04 AM #2
While being written quite eloquently and almost sounding like something you could read in a science journal, this still sounds like the rant of a sore loser, a.k.a. a boston fan.......
the yankees win, THE-HE YANKEES WIN!
10-17-2003, 10:18 AM #3Member
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You said it brother, don't hate us because we're just so fucking great and the BOSOX SUCK THE FAT ONE!!!!! I was a Don Mattingly fan from the early 80's and the Bronx isn't too far, if I lived near Queens I'd be a Mets fan... but as fate would have it I get to go to the House that Ruth built... you know the guy you got rid of back in the day and never recouped from Don't playa hate, maybe next year fellas, maybe next year muahahahahahaha Yankees baby!
10-17-2003, 10:24 AM #4
Being a died hard Cubs fan, I totally agree with BigGreen on this. Please, don't compare a Yankee fan to a Red Sox or Cubs fan. It doesn't make any sense. I have to put up with White Sox fans making poking fun at the Cubs fans because we lost game 7. Is it me, or did I miss something? I will take a game 7 any day of the week, rather than my team choking at the end of the season. Not so hard cheering a team on who's salary cap doubles a lot of teams.
10-17-2003, 10:27 AM #5Member
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great thread big green. their all shitty fans.
10-17-2003, 10:28 AM #6Member
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Hey it's not my fault I live in North Jersey across the bridge from Yankee Stadium, I always go with the home team... if it makes ya feel better I'm a Jets fan too
10-17-2003, 10:30 AM #7
I feel compelled to add one more thing that differentiates between real yankee fans (which exist and are great, by the way) and TAYFs (temporary association yankee fans for those who didn't read the long-winded post above) or "fake" yankee fans. When confronted with the Woodworks Theory of Accomplishment and Cognitive (dis)Association, a "real" yankees will often say or think something to the effect of "yeah, those fuckers really give us and the game a bad name". Often it is accompanied by a snicker. A TAYF, on the other hand, will get defensive, deny the existence or validity of such a theory and end their comments with something to the effect of "1918!" or "yankees baby!"
10-17-2003, 10:33 AM #8Originally Posted by ross3814
10-17-2003, 10:35 AM #9Member
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LOL... all I'm saying is Don Mattingly who NEVER went to the Series all the years I watched and my brother who was a Thurmon Munson fan from the 70's there is no getting defensive here.... Boston just happened to be off their game last night... that was a great series all the way to game 7... except for Zim getting thrown down and the groundskeeper thing... that was just some great baseball. We just happened to be able to keep a great team since the early 90's.
10-17-2003, 10:41 AM #10Originally Posted by jersey juice
10-17-2003, 10:45 AM #11Member
Originally Posted by BigGreen
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10-17-2003, 11:04 AM #12Member
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Oh and coming from a real fan, I just have to say that I HATE Pettit and thought they should have gotten rid of him years ago and I don't care for Clemens much either. Love Wells though and was so happy when they brought him back. But it is true cause when the real fans get excited about it people are quick to say we're jumping on the bandwagon when I remember back in the day when the Yankees sucked, same thing with my Jets... oh wait, they still do suck oh well, hopefully they can turn the team around and make it to the Superbowl (gotta have hope & dreams right?)
10-17-2003, 11:27 AM #13
I think this thread is an over-reaction on your-part big green. Every team has front-running fans who jump on the bandwagon the minute that team starts to excel. If what you say is true, than it is also feasible that tarf's (temporary association red sox fans) exist; and everything that goes with that.
To tell you the truth, i'm not really even a yankee fan, i'm just rooting for the home team due to the lack of my team's presence in the post-season. I don't consider myself as jumping on the bandwagon or a "tayf" as you describe it, and yes i do appreciate the series between the yanks and the red sox-the first thing mentioned this morning was that was a hell of a game last night.
10-17-2003, 11:32 AM #14
i'll try to relate to this thread as much as I can...
I have always been a diehard Cowboys fan (flame away)...but even through the bad times I would admit that I love the 'boys. I never understood, until here recently, why so many people could absolutely HATE the Cowboys. People from all over the country would love to hate them.
Then over the last few years the Yankees have been dominate. I am what you would consider a moderate baseball fan...but I f'ing hate the Yankees. Nothing personal, they have never done anything wrong in my book that I can recall. I just f'ing hate them. I don't pay them a whole of attention all year, until every year in the playoffs. At which time I cheer for the opposite team of which they are playing against.
So, to add an additional thought to your TAYF disease that you are currently researching...what would the condition be called of Temporary Fucking Hating Yankees and their Fans-again nothing personal, be called?
Please read this post and keep your seriousness level at a minimum.
10-17-2003, 11:34 AM #15Originally Posted by nj juice
10-17-2003, 11:40 AM #16Originally Posted by tryingtogetbig
10-17-2003, 11:49 AM #17
This sums it up..
"The Cubs/Red Sox fans teach us what it means to keep the faith; they teach us what true love really means, It's easy to love a winner. But with the Cubs and Red Sox fans, you learn to love the loser who has nothing, who is down on his knees. That's real love"
Last edited by buylongterm; 10-17-2003 at 11:51 AM.
10-17-2003, 11:55 AM #18
HERE'S ANOTHER NICE READ ON "TOPIC" by Bill Simmons, ESPN
Twenty minutes after the Yankees eliminated the Sox, I called my father to make sure he was still alive.
And that's not even a joke. I wanted to make sure Dad wasn't dead. That's what it feels like to be a Red Sox fan. You make phone calls thinking to yourself, "Hopefully, my Dad picks up, because there's at least a 5-percent chance that the Red Sox just killed him."
It's safe to say that Jessica Simpson could have managed Game 7 better than Grady.
Well, he picked up. And we talked it through. We always do. Dad's voice was barely audible. He sounded like he just got out of surgery. Like every other Sox fan on the planet, he couldn't understand one simple question: Why didn't Grady take out Pedro? In the eighth inning, Pedro was running on fumes. Everyone knew it. Everyone but Grady Little.
Little did we know, our overmatched manager was saving his worst for last.
"He screwed up the season," Dad grumbled. "He screwed up the whole season."
So it happened again. Nothing was worse than Game Six against the Mets, but this was damned close. I don't need to tell you why. If the Red Sox were a girl, you would probably just break up with them. You would call them on the phone, explain to them calmly that you can't take it anymore, let them down as gently as possible, then move on with your life. But sports aren't like that. You're stuck with your teams from childhood. It's like being trapped in a bad Irish-Catholic marriage. You can't get out.
Hey, this is my team. I came to grips with that a long time ago. They're part of my life. Sometimes they lift me to a higher place. Sometimes they punch me in the stomach and leave me for dead. There's no rhyme or reason. And there are thousands and thousands of diehards just like me, all trapped in that same bad marriage, united by our experiences and memories. We wear Sox caps, we pack Fenway Park, we travel insane distances to support our team on the road. We always have each other. And some days are better than others.
This was one of the bad days. Given that the f**king Yankees were involved, and the way things unfolded, it may have tied for the worst.
I can't say this strongly enough: I will spend the rest of my life wondering why Grady let Pedro wilt to death in the eighth inning. This isn't Pantheon Pedro anymore; honestly, it's been over two years since he was doing his Mozart routine on the mound. Even if his best start is still better than just about anyone else's best start, asking him to throw 125-plus pitches over three-plus hours in Yankee Stadium -- in the most improbable, nerve-wracking setting imaginable -- was indefensible at best and catastrophically moronic at worst.
Unlike the other devastating losses over the years, you couldn't blame any of the Sox players for losing the series this time around (no, not even Nomar). This was a great group of guys -- a resilient, likable team that almost always came through, just like they proved in Game Six. Every time you counted them out, they came roaring back. I loved that about them. Unfortunately, they couldn't manage themselves. Switch Grady Little and Joe Torre and the Red Sox win the series. The two teams were that close.
What are these fans so mad about? Their team is going to the World Series.
I would rehash the eighth for you, but frankly, I'm not in the mood. Nobody in his right mind would have allowed Pedro -- 115 pitches on the odometer, struggling heroically with a three-run lead, running on the fumes of his fumes -- to pitch to Hideki Matsui. Not with flame-throwing Alan Embree waiting in the bullpen. This isn't even a debate. And the ensuing disaster -- Matsui's RBI double, followed by Posada's bloop single to tie the game -- wasn't just predictable, it was downright sickening. It was '86 all over again. Aaron Boone's homer in the 11th wasn't just inevitable, it was practically preordained.
Of course, the TV networks and newspapers got what they wanted: They spent the entire month gleefully rehashing those same "Curse" stories for both the Cubs and Sox, flashing graphics like "RED SOX WORLD SERIES WINS AFTER 1918: 0" and showing so many Babe Ruth pictures, you would have thought John Henry Williams had brought the Babe back to life. It was borderline pathological. Fox even made Boone's brother a guest announcer for the Sox-Yanks series -- apparently, Plan B was one of George Steinbrenner's kids. Well, here's your reward, guys: A Yankees-Marlins series that absolutely nobody will watch. Well done.
That two star-crossed franchises both blew three-run leads with five outs to go . . . sure, that's a little kooky. But the 2003 Cubs didn't lose because of a goat, and they didn't lose because of poor Steve Bartman. They lost because Dusty stupidly left Mark Prior in the game too long. They lost because their bullpen, shaky all season, imploded at the worst possible time. They lost because Gonzalez botched an easy ground ball, and because Kerry Wood didn't rise to the occasion in Game 7. That's why they lost.
It was a little more simple for the 2003 Red Sox. They fell short because of their crappy manager, to the surprise of absolutely no one who followed the team on a regular basis. I'm sure he's a nice man, and I'm sure everyone likes him . . . but when it comes right down to it, you don't want Grady Little managing your team in the "Biggest Non-World Series Game Of All-Time." I could give you about 150 Grady examples from the last two weeks -- including him breaking the major-league record for "Consecutive games with a failed hit-and-run that resulted in a double play" -- but that would be a waste of everyone's time. This man would hit on 19 at a blackjack table because "he had a feeling." That's all you need to know.
As for me, I feel like Andrew Golota just spent the last two weeks punching me in the gonads. The A's series sucked up 90 percent of the residual emotion in my body -- it was like enduring a four-hour breakup with somebody, then deciding to get back together in the end. The Debacle That Was Game Three -- Pedro acting like a baby and throwing at Garcia, Manny overreacting because Clemens threw a fastball within four feet of his head, Zimmer and Pedro re-enacting the Clubber-Mickey fight in "Rocky 3" -- took care of the rest of my emotions. For the past few days, I was walking around with one of those weird, Daryl Hannah-like half-smiles on my face, like the lights were on and nobody was home. I was tapped.
Like I wrote last week, the baseball playoffs can do that to you. My friend JackO (a Yankee fan) called me on Thursday to say, "No matter what happens, I'm a carcass right now." That's the perfect word. Carcass. Of course, he doesn't feel that way anymore, the bastard. His team came through. Mine failed. Again. You know it's a bad loss when one of your friends is saying, "I just spent the last 15 minutes reflecting on everything that's good about my life, and I guess I just have to keep doing that for the next couple of days to get through this" (actual quote from my buddy Hench).
Welcome to another year in Red Sox Nation.
And I'm sure this game will be a staple on ESPN Classic, and that it will definitely cost Grady Little his job -- thank God -- but honestly, the last two weeks took something out of me. You spend six months following a team, you devote something like 1,000 hours of your year to watching-reading-discussing them, and then everything vanishes in thin air. And you feel like a moron for devoting so much of your time to something so, so, so . . . (I can't even think of the right word).
Only one thing still bothers me. As a Sox fan, I take great pride in ignoring the past, thinking positively and blindly believing that "This is the year" under any and all circumstances. I don't believe in the Curse. At least, I think I don't. With that said, I watched the first 10 innings at my office last night, surrounded by a support system of friends from work. When the clock turned midnight on the East Coast, I noticed the "NY 5, Boston 5" score . . .
And I started thinking about it . . .
(Haven't I been down this road before?) . . .
And I finally made the connection.
And it weakened my knees like Kerry Wood's curveball.
It was like seeing the Ghost of Eighty-Six. Suddenly, I knew they were going to lose. I grabbed my stuff and quickly bolted out of there, looking like a guy grabbing his clothes after a bad one-night stand. My friends were in disbelief -- it was like Montecore the Tiger was dragging me off the stage. I couldn't possibly explain it to them. Ten minutes later, I walked through my front door, sat down next to the Sports Gal -- who was dutifully watching the entire game on the sofa -- then watched Aaron Boone crush that Wakefield knuckler into the stands.
I had been home for about 45 seconds. No lie.
Looking back, I can't say I was surprised . . . just like Cubs fans can't say they were surprised when the wheels came off after Gonzalez's error. As a sports fan, sometimes you know when bad things are about to happen. You recognize the depressing signs because you've been there before. So maybe that's the real "curse," those moments when you turn into Haley Joel Osment in the Sixth Sense . . . only you aren't seeing dead people, you're seeing a dead ballgame. And when it's happening to thousands of fans all at once, the resulting collective karma kills your team.
It was not if but when the Yankee hero would be crowned.
(Does any of this make sense? Of course not. I'm completely insane. The Red Sox have driven me insane. It's official.)
Anyway, my wife understands now. She only jumped on the bandwagon a few years ago, thanks to me. Now her Sox virginity has been taken; she was near tears last night. "I finally understand why you're so crazy about this team," she kept saying. "I can't imagine going through this for my entire life. This is horrible." Add another one to the list.
As for my Dad, he's still alive. When we were hanging up last night -- right after we finished rehashing Grady Little's mistakes -- I mentioned how I had to stay up late to write a column.
"You have to write something tonight?" my father said, incredulous. "Jesus. I'm going to bed."
"You can go to sleep right now?" I asked.
"Of course not. I'm just too depressed to do anything else."
That's my Dad. He's 55 years old. I hope he gets to see the Red Sox win a World Series some day.
Bill Simmons is a columnist for Page 2 and ESPN The Magazine, as well as one of the writers for "Jimmy Kimmel Live" on ABC
Last edited by BigGreen; 10-17-2003 at 11:58 AM.
10-17-2003, 12:23 PM #19AR-Hall of Famer / Retired
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1. Irrespective of the outcome, you have to love that it came down to the bottom of the 11th in the 7th - that there were 2 great pitchers who were a bit past their prime but doing their best - and that each pitch was heart rending in suspense - of course I am happy the Yanks won - and truthfully, I give them my loyalty because they have shown time and time and time again that when the going gets tough they come through in the clutch and dont choke.
2. All this other crud about "true fans" is garbage. The only people I would classify in that category of massochistic behaviour is Mets fans
10-17-2003, 12:30 PM #20Originally Posted by CYCLEON
10-17-2003, 01:37 PM #21
I think that the earlier post about Temporary Hatred for Yankees is inspired by the fact that, like Cycleon said, they tend to come through in the clutch and not choke. Why can't our teams do that once in a while? It's like the Yankess have a monopoly on "not choking," and it just kills me.
I've been an Astros fan my whole life, and I've gotta tell you, I think we're worse off then the Red Sox fans. At least they can *get* to the playoffs, as opposed to playing well the whole season and then choking at the end. And then, even when we do get to the playoffs, we're virtually guaranteed to lose to the Braves while our star players play like absolute crap. Beat that!
10-17-2003, 01:42 PM #22Originally Posted by Strut99GT
Last edited by BigGreen; 10-17-2003 at 09:11 PM.
10-17-2003, 08:25 PM #23
alas i agree. Nothing is more wastefull than living vicariously. Especially when you arent even truely living vicariously. I suppose the worst people are those who have such a low place in life they must fake their vicarious lives. wow, its almost like a double negative. only in this case it does not become positive by default.
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