The Lead Cox and the Skankees

Since my departure from the land of Provo to a place that can (at least a little bit) appreciate baseball, I've found myself thinking about the knuckleball more and more. It's a magnificent pitch that, when thrown correctly can keep hitters bent over like Paris Hilton at her 18th birthday party. It's also a great pitch for guys like me with little to no arm strength over long periods of throwing.

My thoughts on the knuckleball naturally lead me to the greatest knuckleballer of our generation, if not of all time, Tim Wakefield (which is a great name for a knuckleballer, by the way). Like any pitcher, he has his good outings and his bad, but he has consistently won ball-games into and through his 40s and probably still has a few good years left.

This got me to thinking: "Wow, I'd really like Wakefield a lot more if he didn't play for the soulless Lead Cox." (Red Sox, for those less baseball inclined.) I've found over the years that my propensity to hate the Red Sox has grown exponentially over the past few years. In the late '90s and early 2000s I was a Red Sox fan by default because of my undying hatred for the New York Yankees. By the time 2004 rolled around I found myself as a sympathizer for a team that had not won a World Series in over 90 years. By 2007, I was more or less neutral on the topic, seeing as the Red Sox had won a championship about 3 years before and the Yankees hadn't won one since 2000. It wasn't until October of 2007 that I found myself in any real conflict. With my Colorado Rockies in the World Series facing off against the Red Sox, it was necessary to root against them, but I found no real necessity for hatred.

And them my eyes were opened. After the 2007 World Series, I found myself in reflection on my position concerning the Red Sox. It was at that point that I realized that the Boston Red Sox of the late 2000s were the exact same Yankees team that I had hated about 10 years earlier. I'm sure that if I went into downtown Boston and said that the Red Sox were exactly like the Yankees, there would be a mob ready to crucify me; and to those people I say, "Eph you raw!" The phrase, "This team is a maniacal baseball baron that throws obscene quantities of money at high-dollar free-agents in order to worship the idol gods of championship rings and World Series trophies with absolutely no regards to morals or the spirit of the game," could be easily applied to either team interchangeably.

This is not to say that I will now go out and buy Yankees apparel and throw up an A-Rod Fathead in my room. I still hate the Yankees with a fiery, burning passion from deep within my soul. They are still the same team as they were 10 years ago, just with less firepower. George Steinbrenner got senile for a year or two there before handing over the team to his sons. In a few years, they'll return, more or less, to their maniacal, idol-worshiping ways.

The bottom line? I hate both of these teams, and wish that both of them would go 0-162. Sadly, this isn't possible considering that they play one another 18 times a year. I guess I'll just have to settle for 9-153 apiece.