Since I've lived in NYC, I've rooted for the Yankees. Joe Girardi had the best ass on player in either league. Paul O'Neill (not our Treasury Secretary and pal of Bono) was such a gentleman. Dave Wells that madman who was such a big kid when he pitched his perfect game. Dave Wells. Then he got traded to Toronto and Roger Clemens donned the pinstripes. I never liked Clemens. How much respect can you have for a pitcher that purposefully beans batters? It's like a cop who plants evidence. The first year, I was pretty ambivalent. I didn't follow any team too much. Then came the subway series. I had no idea who most of the players were on the Mets, but damn, what heart! I couldn't help but be hoping they'd pull it out. The Little Engine That Could.
So Saturday while I'm at my parents, they have the Mets-Yankees game on. What chutzpah from that Estes guy, giving the Rocket some of what he dishes out. But then, Estes, the pitcher, hits a home run. How often does that happen? And just in case the Yankees didn't get the point, the Mets beat them again last night. Huh. The New York Sun (love that paper!) has a great recap.