Living in the greater Chicago Area I take a whole lot of grief from Cubs fans and White Sox fans that I encounter on a daily basis. I am a transplant from the east coast, Scranton Pennsylvania to be exact where I put on my first pinstripes as a 3 year old. Since that day way back when I have been true blue, a pinstriper all the way. One of my childhood memories is watching my very first baseball game ever on a color TV during the 1964 World Series when we went up against the St Louis Cardinals and lost in 7 games. That day my Mom, an even bigger and more intense Yankee fan than anyone could imagine had this great idea that I should watch the game at our neighbor's house and they had a color TV. My memory of that day was a snow storm on the screen as the reception was so poor you couldn't see which team was on the field. I remember hearing the call of mantle's homerun of Barney Shultz that day but never saw the ball fly through the air. That memory is one that lasts in my auditory canals to this day. The Yankees were a part of who I was from those early days so to try to explain it to Chicago fans is an exercise which borders on the bizarre. They can't possibly understand what it is like to be born a winner in the year of 1956, a Triple Crown Year and a perfect game year . They have only endured a legacy of losing mostly by the northsiders, near misses and a couple of flukes by the White Sox. It is like trying to talk your way out of jail, everyone goes back to what they believe is the evidence which they believe, that the Yankees have bought championships since they have been in existence. Those of us who have lived through the "Yellow Submarine Days" of 1965, 66, etc. and saw the rebirth of the championship years with the later 70's know the truth. So every day is a defense of many years of trials and tribulations and the saving of the traditions that took place through my lifetime. What do they know anyway! So here I am in the dank, dreary and usually chilly midwest wearing my Yankee hat, my Yankee gloves and hat in winter, driving my decal laden auto and being another proud Yankee fan out of the territory. But wait, am I really out of order living in a land of losing teams? Maybe not. Every once in a while I lock eyes onto an ally who locks on to me at the same time and we befriend each other with a comment about Jeter or ARod or talk about when we last made a trip to the Bronx. It is a rough time but it does happen from time to time and then when it does it always happens at least two more times in that given day, always in threes.
So another season has begun and I left my 2011 version of my Yankee hat at the feet of St. Damien in a church in Hawaii where I spent spring vacation. I proudly took my new 2012 hat and placed it on my head on opening day 2012, got on my bike, rode to the Metra Electric Train that takes me to the University of Chicago and entered into another year of walking through the streets of Chicago showing my allegiance to the greatest sports franchise ever. I am forever a Yankee no matter which part of the country I reside in. I can't wait for my first trip to "Comiskey Park" I still call it that where I will venture into enemy territory and take any lumps that are dished my way. My true reward will be later this year when I walk through the Great Hall and sense that I am really home again, just like the very day back in September of 1966 when I took my seat in Section 7 at the Stadium. The grass really is greener in NY!