THE HOUSE’S MONEY

BOSTON, MA; OCT. 7, 2005 -- Revenue is revenue. So when Fenway Park opened its doors for Game 3 of the A.D.L.S on Friday night, it let Pablo Rodas in. Not that his presence was particularly wanted.

Rodas, decked out in a pinstriped Yankees jersey with “Rodriquez” on the back, is the guy who goes to the car races for the crashes. To the hockey games for the fights. And in this case, he came to a key Red Sox playoff game hoping to experience first-hand the devastation of the hometown fans.

I found Rodas, a 20-year-old native of Fall River, MA, outside of Fenway Park on Lansdowne Street. A Manny Ramirez HR had just sailed (way) over his head, landing on the rooftop of an adjacent parking garage to pull the Red Sox within one run of the visiting White Sox, 4-3. A half-hour earlier, he had been watching the game from 10 rows behind the Boston dugout (”We paid twelve hundred bucks for those seats,” Rodas claimed). But by the fifth inning of the contest, he predictably became a target of the “Game within the Game.” Here’s how it works: (1) the hometown fans seek out a seatholder in Yankees regalia, and drive him nuts with a verbal berating, or worse; (2) the seatholder eventually reaches a boiling point, unleashing an F-Bomb, or worse; (3) nothing short of 50 biased witnesses immediately come forward, pointing to the “offending” Yankee fan; and (4) Fenway Park security summarily displaces the holder from the seat, much to the delight of the gallery.

Frankly, I’ve seen this scenario unwind numerous times at Yankees/Red Sox games. And the same game is played on Red Sox fans at Yankees Stadium (to a lesser degree). But at a Red Sox/White Sox game? Yep. Wear those pinstripes in Fenway—particularly with Boston on the brink of elimination following a magical, championship year—and you’re inviting conspiracy. Fair? No. True? Yes.

“What is it that you hope to get out of this?” I asked Rodas, who—to his credit—stuck around the park after his ejection.

“I wanna see them get swept,” Rodas said in a Boston accent, of all things. “I hate them. Always have. My father grew up in Queens, and I’ve been a Yankees fan from day one.”

Frankly, I can sympathize with Rodas. He lives in foreign territory, surrounded by the enemy. That’s been my case as well, rooting for Boston while just 40 miles removed from New York City. It’s actually great fun to be in this situation when the hometown Yankees falter, because the blood-hungry NY media always rushes to the table to eat its own. Good reading, indeed. But when the Sox goes down, the reading can be particularly brutal.

Red later lost to White, 5-3, and Rodas got the sweep he wanted so badly. So did the NY media. The headline on the back cover of the New York Post read: Dead Sox: Idiots’ reign end as Chi sweeps”. The text was sprayed over a picture of Johnny Damon, shown just after he struck out with the bases loaded to end the Sox’s half of the pivotal sixth inning. Inside the tabloid, there was more: “Hose Your Daddy” was the title of an article written by Michael Morrissey. The story was accompanied by a photo of “former Yankee” Orlando Hernandez pumping his fist after retiring Damon with the aforementioned strikeout. Another News writer—Kevin Kernan—concluded that Hernandez (otherwise known as “El Duque”), got to finish a job that he started against the Red Sox last October 17th. That was Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS, a game in which Hernandez had pitched for five innings before leaving with a 4-3 lead. Boston, of course, rallied to win the game and later the series. El Duque wasn’t wanted in New York after the 2004 season. But the fair winds blow hard in the Big Apple; now he’s apparently a hero of sorts. The New York media’s own version of the Game within the Game: reclaiming castoffs as their own, when they do what the hometown team cannot.

There was more of the same over at the New York Daily News. The back cover showed Hernandez, again with the fist pumping. The title: “Ex-Yank El Duque, Chisox sweep away reigning champion Red Sox.” Inside the tabloid, a panoramic picture of the Sox’s sullen dugout (post-game) was flanked by the headline: New Curse as Boston Flops.” Clever, all this curse stuff.

By the way, I never got inside Fenway Park on Friday night. Tried, but failed. The only empty seats, it seems, were those vacated by evacuated Yankee fans. Instead, I went into the Park’s sports bar, Game On!, to watch the game on TV. During the telecast, the ESPN’s Chris Berman said one thing that really stuck to me. It was this: that many Sox fans feel as though they are “playing with the House’s money” this year. Translation, for the non-gamblers out there: Life was so good last year that we can run on those fumes for quite a while. Berman’s right.

Watching the Sox struggle to get into the playoffs, and then to survive the playoffs, adds a lot of perspective to last year’s storybook plight. It ain’t always easy to score with the whole world watching, even if there are no outs and bases loaded. It ain’t always easy to turn a double-play with the whole world watching, even if you barely have to move to field the ball. Taking four in a row against the Yankees, and then four more in a row against a stacked Cardinals team? That’s special. Certainly worth giving back a little house money for.

EVIL EMPIRE PLOTS ATTACK OF REBEL FORCES

OCTOBER 2, 2005; BOSTON, MA --The Evil Empire is rich enough to squash most every thing in its path. Unless fate intervenes. And sometimes fate does just that.

The Yankees don't like the caps we make. Not one bit. The problem is that we have a position of legal (if not financial) strength. Baseball fans don't confuse our "YH" logo with the Yankees' "NY" logo. The logos are like night and day. Under the circumstances, it should be tough for the Yankees to argue trademark infringement with a straight face. So they won't: their high-priced attorneys will.

The Yankees have stepped in the way of our federal trademark application for the "YH with Horns" logo. To be a little more specific: they have asked for an extension of time to draft the paperwork that will oppose our mark. In a show of painful decorum, we agreed to the requested extention with the hope that the Yankees would come to their senses. Time will tell.

Fate, as it turns out, came in the form of a journalist from the New York Daily News. Reporter Kerry Burke ventured to Fenway Park on Thursday, with 20 "official" Yankees caps in his possession. His mission: to get 20 Bostonians to accept the free caps in the area surrounding the park. His mission proved impossible. One fan said that he "wouldn't use the Yankee cap as toilet paper." A 62-year-old Sox fan from Oxford, Michigan (who was a long way from home) grabbed the free cap from Burke and stomped it into the ground. Others accepted the caps, then promptly tossed them in nearby garbage cans. In Boston--and in a lot of other places across the U.S.--the interlocking "NY" logo represents the mark of the beast.

I picked up the News on Friday morning and read through the story. A light went on. I was headed to Boston for Saturday's game. I'll take 20 of our classic red "YH" caps, I thought, and see how people respond when I offer them up free of charge. Needless to say, my experience was much different than Burke's.

After parking my car at the Prudential Center, I walked a block and made a left onto Boylston Street. I passed a fire station, and saw several idle firefighters watching the pedestrian traffic move past. Wasting no time, I offered up a free cap to one of the firemen. He quickly and enthusiastically accepted. In fact, four of his fellow firemen swarmed in and asked if they could have a free YH cap, too. Five caps gone, and I was not even to Fenway Park yet.

About a block further up, I noticed a fleet of bicycle jockeys shuttling fans to Fenway Park. I believe it costs $5 or so to delegate the commute between the parking lot and Fenway Park. At any rate, it seemed like a solid promotional move to get one of the YH caps on the head of one of the cyclists, particularly since our website name appears on the back of the cap (for all riders to see). I approached one of the cyclists, said something about getting more tips if he bore his anti-Yankee sentiment, and extended my arm with a cap in my hand. He snapped it up, pulled it onto his head without removing the tags, and peeled down the street in search of a customer. We can't afford to pay celebrities to endorse our caps (though several big names have donned the caps without so much as a penny of compensation). So guerilla marketing it is.

This continued on the grounds adjacent to the park. A guy with fashionably-long hair was making like a street barker on Lansdowne Street in an effort to divert more of the hungry traffic to the adjacent sausage stand. Here was a culinary frontman. I believe he called himself the Sausage Guy. Not the cooker of the sausage. Nor the actual seller. Just the guy charged with the responsibility of making passersby aware that, gosh darnit, damn good sausage was being sold nearby.

I again attempted to appeal to this vendor's business side: "More people will take notice of all your shouting if you're wearing this," I said, showing him a red YH cap. "Here, go ahead, it's yours for free." Few small things in life delight me more than people who make a public commotion while wearing our hats. So I was tickled when he accepted the offer. Less so when he pushed the bill of the cap into his back pocket. Curse that fashionably-long hair. Still, from the looks of it, he would be utilizing the YH gear another day, presumably when not in the presence of thousands of cute Sox fanettes. Seven caps down, 13 to go.

The Boston Fire Department had a hook-and-ladder parked outside Fenway, and several firefighters posted vigil nearby. Having gotten a good vibe from the earlier batch of firefighters, I approached the hook-and-ladder with an eye towards adding a few more of the "protect-and-serve" set to the YH ranks. This transaction was simple: I offered, they (2) accepted.

"Are you allowed to wear baseball caps on the job?" I asked.

"I don't know," said one of the firefighters. "But I will until my captain comes over and tells me to take it off."

And with that, two more caps found a welcoming home.

The final divestiture took place near the front of the "day of game" ticket sale window. The line was long, and many in it were undoubtedly going to be turned away disappointed. But I liked the spirit that I found there. Once young man was playfully giving a little heat to a Yankee fan who strolled by in Jeter regalia. Nice. There's a YH'er, if ever there was one. So over I went.

"I like your style, I said. "Here's a free Yankees Hater cap for you."

He pounced on the cap and threw it on his head proudly, as though he had been kharmetically rewarded for chewing through a Yankees fan. And, in fact, that is exactly what had happened.

The line of fans who overheard this exchange quickly moved over to the ropes to get closer to me. Far enough to obtain a more prominent position in the freebie queue. But not seemingly far enough to surrender a place in the ticket line. Frankly, I was shocked that any of them moved an inch, given what might have been at stake: "No, I am sorry, sir...the final ticket to today's Red Sox/Yankees game was just sold to the man in front of you."

I disbursed the remaining caps to the line-standers, using a simple bit of business acumen to differentiate the "gets" and the "get-nots" (e.g., I passed over those who were already wearing caps, as this increased the chances of my handouts actually being worn). In a flash, I was light by another 10 caps. Unlike journalist Burke's experience with the Yankee caps, my stash of caps was all gone. Frankly, I could have had thousands of additional takers if that had been my wish. But this was a controlled experiment: 20 caps vs. 20 caps. And once again--when it mattered most--the Yankees lost.

The conclusion: YH caps are not even remotely the same thing as NYY caps. There's no confusion. The Yankees do not lose a prospective sale when someone opts for the purchase of a YH caps. The YH caps do not even speak negatively of the Yankees: the phrase "Yankee Hater" describes the wearer of the cap, not the Yankee organization. So what gives with the Yankees running interference with our YH trademark application? Classic case of big guy picking on little guy. Goliath and David. Big stack muscling the short stack.

Stay tuned for more....

BIG IN ANY MEDIUM

Sept. 30, 2005; SPARTA, NJ -- There I was, “watching” Thursday’s pivotal game between the Red Sox and the Blue Jays on the internet. No visual images, mind you, but simply a text description of each play as it occurred. On this night, there was no TV, no radio, and no tickets to the ballpark.

Fortunately, David Ortiz is a savior in any medium.

The internet “GameCast”, as it is called, resets itself periodically as the action evolves. There’s a “click” sound, following by a flash of light as the page reloads with new information. That’s as suspenseful as it gets with a GameCast. I have to admit: the sensation is better than one would think.

After the textual description of the Sox’s ninth inning advised that Johnny Damon singled, and then stole second base, there was a long pause. I took the opportunity to surf over to ESPN.com’s website, where I quickly played the infectious “Big Papi, MVP” jingle from the Mike & Mike in the Morning (radio) Show. Suddenly, there was a calm to the room. After all, Ortiz was up. And this was clutch time. Back to the GameCast I went. The Blue Jays’ relief pitcher threw several preliminary pitches to Ortiz, which were recorded in the balls & strikes section of the GameCast screen. A few balls and a strike, I think. Doesn’t matter. Eventually, Ortiz struck the ball into an area where it could not be caught. Damon plated the winning run. End of story. Until this weekend.

The Yankees visit Boston tonight, a fact that may even be known in rain forests and igloos across the planet. This is a high risk/high reward scenario for all ticket holders who favor Boston. I know, having attended games one and three of last year’s ALCS (both Sox losses). Describing those experiences is easy: bad, and worse. But I’ll be back for another helping of Sox/Yanks this weekend. Kind of like trying beets again after 15 years, based on the shaky logic that your maturing palate is due to warm up to the taste.

But Fenway Park is not in the cards until Saturday. Tonight, I’ll catch the game on New York’s YES network. Michael Kaye, the ever-biased commentator for YES, will teeter on complete intolerability. He’ll tell the viewers why A-Rod should be MVP (he shouldn’t) and why Jason Giambi should be Comeback Player of the Year (he should). He’ll refer to the fact that the Red Sox banned “Yankees Not-So-Nice” t-shirts earlier this year (translation: “Yankees Suck” t-shirts). And he’ll probably say that the Yankees beat the Sox in the “filling holes” department by securing pitchers Shawn Chacon and Aaron Small. Don’t wait for a mention of the team’s $220 million payroll. It isn’t coming.

Tomorrow, I’ll trade the comfort of a plump sofa for the discomfort of an unyielding wooden seat. Bad trade. As scenery goes, however, the Green Monster trumps any living room wall, and a crisp, blue sky crushes a wooden-beamed ceiling. And no matter how hearty the effort, the grilled hot dogs from the gas grill on the back deck never compare to the Fenway Franks in Boston. Advantage: Fenway Park.

On Sunday, the medium of choice will be XM Satellite Radio. On a lot of levels, this is a better experience than TV. Ugly people, as conventional wisdom goes, have to work harder on their personalities because they are not given the breaks extended to their better-looking brethren. Same is true for radio announcers. They successfully capture the spirit of the game and the imagination of the listeners because they have to. TV announcers can afford to have some lousy dates; people will watch either way, because—after all-- the action is there to see. Hell, you could moot the telecast and people would still watch. Try suggesting that to a radio executive.

On Monday, I’ll hit the newspapers. Hoping for accounts of the Yankees’ demise, of course. The New York media is particularly fond of blasting its teams at season’s end. They figure all will be forgiven by the time they reappear with those “Please talk to me, I was just doing my job” smiles the following spring. This cannibalistic journalism is one of the few recent advantages of rooting for the Sox while living in the NYC metropolitan area. It’s great fun. Highly recommended.

My experience to the Yanks/Sox games will be diversified across several mediums, and I have to say: any additional, game-winning heroics by David Ortiz will be warmly felt no matter what the delivery system. As one of my Yankee-loving colleagues said today: no matter how you are checking the score—TV, radio or internet—you just know the Sox are winners if it’s a clutch situation and Ortiz is batting. That is the intangible that makes an MVP. A-Rod? Please. Sheffield is more feared than A-Rod is, and Matsui would be the runner-up choice with the game on the line. Don’t take my word for it: Yanks’ reliever Tom Gordon said it himself during a radio interview yesterday.

For years, the power of the Yankees was the paralysis that they forced upon their opponents when the game reached its late, crucial stages. Bermuda Triangle stuff. Opposing players expected the Yankees to rally against them. Teams shipwrecked themselves--playing poorly when it mattered most—because of the legacy of the pinstripes. David Ortiz stole that legacy away from the Yankees last year. And he still has it. Until A-Rod, or Sheffield, or A-Rod takes the legacy back, there can only be one MVP: Big Papi.

The MVP does not technically consider the post-season, because the winner of the award is decided-upon at the conclusion of the regular season. This, of course, is inane. All that really matters is who stands on the top of the hill in the end. Last year, that was the Red Sox. And Ortiz was the major catalyst in that championship. Since the closing of the ballots for the 2004 MVP, no player has impacted the game as much as Ortiz. It isn’t even close. This is one of those uncommon situations where what a player does in the prior year’s post-season should carry over into the current year’s MVP race.

Naturally, we’re biased. We’re biased because we’re Sox fans. We’re biased because Ortiz wore one of our red and blue Yankee Hater caps as a NESN crew filmed a lengthy TV spot in his kitchen (see NESN’s DVD titled” Faith Rewarded”—specifically the segment called “Cooking with Ortiz”—which was released after the Sox won the Series last year). And we’re biased because we can’t stand A-Rod. None of these biases, however, necessarily make us wrong on this point. And enough with the “A-Rod plays defense” argument. He’s an excellent fielder, but is not a difference-maker to any meaningful extent when he plays the field. This is the major leagues, and (as the PGA is fond of saying) these guys are good. Nearly all of them, anyway. At least the ones who would be considered in the MVP category.

There’s a Reebok billboard in Boston—near Fenway Park—that depicts Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz. It says: “MVPs When It Mattered Most.” That was true last year. And it’s true now, too. Whether the voters get it right or not.

NO GUTS AND NO GLORY

AUG. 29, 2005 -- The stench of happy Yankee fans has returned to the New York metropolitan area. Dramatic wins and a dwindling Sox lead mean the New York fans can wear their baseball caps again. Fitting behavior as the Northeast moves into its fair weather season.

There’s only problem: the psychology of the choke always lasts several years.

The Red Sox organization did not quickly rebound from its improbable loss in the “Buckner” World Series. Scott Norwood was never the same after he missed the kick that would have won the Super Bowl for the Bills. Search the internet for sports’ massive collapses, and you’ll see that immediate redemption is never in the cards. Teams do not go from gutless to glorious in one year. And the Yankees—and the fans that support them--will be no exception.

Sure, the Yankees will have ample opportunity to turn the tables on the Sox. There’s a three-game series in the Bronx scheduled for September 9-11, and another three-game series at Fenway slated for September 30 through October 2. Most likely result: Yankees move into first place in September, and then blow the lead and the wild card in October. Another Pinstripe Heimlich Maneuever.

Can it really happen any other way? The Yankees lack any real heroes of their own. A-Rod is great at hitting solo home runs when his team is up by eight runs, but can he really deliver in the clutch the way that David Ortiz can? Hideki Matsui was stellar in the first three games of the 2004 ALS. Then Pedro whistled a fast ball under his nose and his stats deflated quicker than a Yankee fan at Game 7 of the ALCS. The pitching staff is spotty, the lineup is both old and slow, and the management has been looking over its shoulders all season. Miracles can happen, but inspiration is usually a key ingredient. The look in Torre’s eyes appears more like aggravation.

The good news? We will all be able to watch the demise of the Yankees unfold, the way that it did in the 2004 ALS and the 2003 World Series. The New York tabloids will write pleasing headlines to sum up each day’s foibles. Yankee fans will mutter at work in the morning, and overuse the “86 years” line as Sox fans revel in the Bombers backwardness. Dick Vitale will back-peddle from his inane theory that the Sox lock up when they see those pinstripes (baby!). Life will be sweet. And the air will smell much, much better.

INSIDE THE MIND OF THE YANKEE FAN: The Yankees are playing well again, which should pull their fans from the ledge for at least a short while. Frankly, someone needs to make those damn ledges shorter.

Recently, we had a chance to peek at a series of e-mail strings written by a band of hard-core NYY fans. This was not chatroom banter, but rather an intimate back-and-forth among long-time friends who are not afraid to bare their souls to one another. Though we hope this band of Yankee-lovers will again go away disappointed at season's end, their amazingly-honest exchanges made great reading. So, we have "negotiated" with them to post their remarks here. We had to agree that we would not ridicule their remarks (honestly, we agreed to this). Furthermore, we agreed to continue to post their remarks even in good times (what made the initial string of e-mails so gratifying to us was the pain that the group was obviously feeling as the Yanks continued to underperform). Again, we agreed.

We will post this exchange in the "Mailbag" section of the site; it will be called the "Pinstripe Roundtable." We welcome well-thought-out responses to their remarks (we don't care what team you root for; if your take is entertaining and insightful, we will post it).

Is it unorthodox to publish the comments of Yankee fans on this site? Absolutely. But we like the unpredictability of it. Plus, we envision Jeter playing golf by early October. We hope everyone enjoys what's coming...

ROYAL FLUSH:The re-energized KC Royals flushed the Yankees for a third straight time this week, creating immense joy in YH land. Meanwhile, Sox fans were treated to yet another walk-off HR by David Ortiz. Life is good in Boston. And in all of those other places where the Nation presides.

CAP SIGHTING: Last night's (6/1/05) telecast of the Sox/Orioles game by ESPN featured a YH cap sighting and reference. ESPN's cameras fixed on two young fans enjoying ice cream at the game. One of the girls was wearing one of our authentic "YH Horns" caps. The commentators correctly identified the cap as "not a Yankee cap, but rather a Yankee Hater cap" and opined that being a Sox fan is synonymous with being a Yankee Hater. Thanks for the exposure, ESPN!

HAPPY RETURNS (Part II) [Note: This is a continuation of HAPPY RETURNS, Part I, which appears below]

BOSTON, MA, APRIL 16, 2005: You can't always get what you want. Mick Jagger says so. And since he's roll-n-roll's version of the Pope, his logic must be infallible.

But Mick sliced the issue a little too thin, as figureheads are prone to doing. The real challenge to "wanting" is determining the end result that will evolve from the thing that is seemingly desired. At the time, every Sox fan wanted (needed?)a Boston win in Game 3 of the ALCS. But, looking back, not one of these same souls would change the result of that game. As it turns out, you don't always need what you want.

But after too much deep thought, I decided that what I wanted (needed?) on this day was a cold drink. About a half-hour later, my friend Pete and I were watching the pedestrian traffic on Newbury Street stroll by. We broke up the experience with sips of Japanese beer and healthy portions of Thai food. Bargoers call the consumption of food "laying a base." And when you have six hours to kill before Fenway Franks and Budweiser, you damn well better adhere to tavern axioms in order to stay afloat.

Darting around Boston wouldn't be complete without a stop to Champions Sports Bar in the Boston Marriott Copley Square. This was the first place that allowed us to promote our YH caps within its confines last year. To this day, it is one of the only places in Boston where you can buy authentic YankeesHater.com gear. We crushed a drink there, talked to the staff some, and then hit the streets again. This whole "killin' time" thing was really starting to have a liberating feel to it.

We eventually meandered back to Fenway Park, and decided to hit the new on-premises bar, Game On!. We were initially disappointed when the doorman instructed us to head downstairs to the basement level. How many times has a basement bar been dark, damp and dreary? But, again, you don't always have the ability to know what you truly want. This particular basement is high-tech, hip and bustling. The bar is underlit in Red Sox red, and an array of flat-screen TVs are mounted on steel piping architecture. The collection of colorful liquor bottles in the center of the bar is accentuated with a shower of North-sent, beaming light. In a word: cool. You can order beer here, but cocktails seemed more appropriate. With plenty of Bud waiting inside Fenway's gates, a vodka club soda got the nod. Bargoers call the mixing of beer and liquor "a bad idea." But what the hell do they know? They sit in bars all day long. Down the hatch.

It wasn't long before we were inside Fenway Park, watching the Rays and Sox with Fenway Franks in hand. A lot has changed since my last trip here. Some things never will. Our seats in right field gave us a clear view of Pesky's Pole. But we also had a pretty good view of the bleachers where, later in the game, the crowd literally ran a Yankees-cap-wearing fan out of the house. Can't provide the details, because I don't know them, but the scenario ended with the Yanks fan being escorted out by security amid a "Yankees Suck" chant. Regarding the chant, the middle-aged woman to my right said, "I hate that. We won the World Series, and we still have an inferiority complex." Definitely not the right time for me to say, "Hi, I'm Mike, CEO of YankeesHater.com. Damn glad to meet you." Wanted to. Was tempted to. Didn't.

And it wasn't just the fans who were in the anti-Yankees spirit. The only MLB highlight shown on the Diamondvision all night was a game-losing HR served up by Yankees reliever Tom Gordon against the Orioles. When the footage stopped, the following text appeared: "The Yankees' current 4-7 record represents their worst start since 1991." The crowd cheered mightily. Chalk one up for the house.

The details of the game are forgotten now, but the Sox did beat the Devil Rays that night. The crowd left happy, and Pete later said that Fenway Park had rekindled his interest in baseball again. "Why?", I asked. "The city is so completely behind this team," Pete said. "and going to Fenway is like a throw-back experience. For the most part, it's all about the baseball team and its fans. Very different from Yankee Stadium, with its corporate atmosphere and all of the advertising distractions." In my mind, I applauded Pete for his observation and for serving it up in an anti-Yankees bun. For both of us, going back to Fenway Park was exactly what we needed. And on a sunny spring day in Boston, who could want more than that?

HAPPY RETURNS (Part I)

BOSTON,MA; APRIL 16, 2005: The strange thing about morgues is that every now and then, the body in the drawer starts kicking.

This is the imagery running through my mind as I pack Fenway--my labrador/beagle mix--into the car and prepare to depart northern NJ en route to Boston. I've got two tickets for the day's game against the Devil Rays. I'll pick up my friend Pete in Westport, CT and later unload the pup at a family member's home in Sturbridge, MA. From there, it will be just an hour's drive to Fenway Park. The Fenway Park that I had last seen on the day of Game 3 of the 2004 ALCS.

The trip marks a return to Fenway Park for Pete as well, though the circumstances are substantially different. As a life-long Mets fan, he finds little reason in his adult life to travel 3 hours to Boston for a baseball game. However, he fondly remembered his last trip to Fenway as a child, more than 20 years ago. Plus, we had arranged a tee time the following day in Massachusetts. So Fenway Park it was.

The previous night, I inquired about the game's start time, as the time was not printed on my tickets. Instead, the non-committal "TBD" appeared in the place where the time should have been. This is one of the few disadvantages of having early-printed season tickets. "I think it's 1 p.m." someone said. I quickly translated that statement to mean "1 p.m." Mistake.

We parked at the Prudential Center and traversed the half-mile or so to the ballpark. Upon arrival, the scene was not what we expected. Beer trucks loaded kegs into the stadium. A few dozen people strolled down Lansdowne Street. The street vendors were invisible. Uh Oh. It was pretty clear that we were working on bad logistics. Shortly thereafter, we determined that the game was slated for a 7 p.m. start. Suddenly, we had six hours to kill. A good problem. Particularly if you're fond of touring pubs in the middle of the day. And we are.

So off we went, in search of Newberry Street. We got off the line so quickly, in fact, that I nearly walked past the 2004 Championship banner on Yawkey Way without looking up. But for the middle-aged woman striking a pose under the banner--and her camera-clutching husband nearby--I might have missed a great moment. Looking up at the banner, all of the misery of ALCS Game 3 rushed back. Late in that game, I left my seat near left field and sauntered out to the Yawkey Way concession area for my last Fenway beer of the season. It had been a memorable year personally, as the YH hats became known nationally after several key Sox players put them on. Perhaps, I thought at the time, a desire for a happy ending was a bit gluttonous. Maybe it was time to accept Fenway Park for what it truly was at that moment: a morgue.

Back in the present, I stared up at the 2004 banner. In what felt like an out-of-body experience, I replayed the "last beer" ritual in my mind. The beer was consumed in the area just under the place where the new banner was now hanging. Let's be honest: it took us all a while to hear the kicking inside the drawers. Certainly, the noise was not discernible during Game Three. But somewhere between the end of Game Four and the final pitch of Game Seven, we realized that something rare was happening. A magical Sox season was going to survive after all, days after its obituary had been written in the New York tabloids and wired to the rest of the world.

HORNS & TAILS

They Hate ‘em in St. Louis, too! The Cardinals did their part to keep the Yanks’ in a tailspin this weekend, possibly inspired by the words of St. Louis columnist Kathleen Nelson. Nelson wrote a very insightful column on Friday (6/10/05) titled “10 Reasons to Hate the Yankees”. A key stat revealed in the piece: the Yankees have just six world championships since 1962, while the Boston Celtics have 11 since that time. Pretty good perspective, given that most of the punks who yap about NY’s 26 rings are younger than 43 years. NY tops Boston in the sports department? Not in their lifetime. Nelson also compares the Cardinals’ Stan Musial and the Yanks’ Joe DiMaggio (Stan’s better). Read the entire column here

YANKEESHATER.COM IN THE MEDIA: Our caps creep into Stephen King's most-recent book, Faithful; David Ortiz cooks in his kitchen with his authentic YankeesHater.com headgear as the NESN cameras roll; and an ESPN-based Hater includes us in his anti-Yankees book, The Devil Wears Pinstripes. Read further (below)for more details.

YANKEES-HATIN' AT ESPN: ESPN Page 2 columnist Jim Caple, a noted YH'er, unleashed his new book this week. The new book, titled The Devil Wears Pinstripes, tells it the way we like to hear it: truthfully. Excerpt: "What I find most interesting in the hate mail I receive is that the vast majority of Yankees fans simply cannot fathom the possibility that anyone could hate their team unless he or she also roots for the Red Sox...The thing is, though, people hate the Yankees everywhere...Brazilian researchers recently discovered an Indian tribe in so remote a part of the Amazon that these natives had never been exposed to western society. Although I cannot absolutely, positively voucher for this, I believe that the only words they were able to understand were "Jeter sucks." If you're on this website, you'll love Caple's book. You can order it at Amazon.com.

(Posted 3/7/05)

WAR OF WORDS CONTINUES...TROT'S TURN: While there are thousands (millions?)of people who hate the Yankees, the Sox seem content to focus on a single Yankee: Alex Rodriguez. Assuming you consider him to be a true Yankee in the first place: "When people ask me about the Yankees, I tell them about Jeter and Bernie Williams and Posada," said Trot Nixon. "I don't tell them about Rodriguez." Nixon apparently didn't like A-Rod's jab at players who commit their off-season time to their kids: "Like Rodriguez says, he's running stairs at 6 in the morning while I'm sleeping and taking my kids to school. I'm like, 'Well, I'm not a deadbeat dad, Alex'." Nixon also didn't care for A-Rod's whiny display after Rodriguez was called out after the now-infamous "slap play" involving Sox pitcher Bronson Arroyo: "You're the one that swung the bat and hit that little nubber down there." It is possible to like this group of Red Sox any more?

(Posted 2/9/05)

"YANKEE HATER" MAKES TOP 10 LIST OF 2004's MOST POLITICALLY-CHARGED PHRASES: The phrase "Yankee Hater" was identified as one of the top ten most "politically-charged" phrases in 2004, according to the Global Language Monitor. No joke. The GLM is a serious organization, comprised of expert linguists and bibliophiles who monitor language trends and examine their impact on various aspects of culture. There's been no word from the GLM camp as to whether or not the phrase "Greedy Bastards" is a front-runner for the 2005 list.

(Posted 2/8/05)

A-ROD vs. SCHILL: THE DIFFERENCE THAT ONE YEAR CAN MAKE IN THE LIFE OF A MAJOR LEAGUER The Yankees' Alex Rodriguez made waves over the past few weeks, as he took several jabs at Boston's Curt Schilling. Excerpt from A-Rod: "To me, it was just odd, because I mean we beat him a couple of times during the year and he was crying on the bench. And then he lost Game 1 (of the ALCS) and he wouldn't talk or anything. And, obviously, he wins Game 6 and then he's still talking 'til today." Schill, of course, quickly considered the source and wisely concluded that A-Rod was trying to motivate his teammates by inflaming the situation: "If that's what he needs, cool," Schilling said. A-Rod went on to admit that he took the loss to Boston very hard: "It's been hard to sleep thinking about that." Inspired by this exchange of words, we decided to draw up a list of the differences between these two high-profile players. Here goes:

10.Schilling walks with a gait that most of us would recognize as masculine and human. A-Rod jogs with a gait that is best-described as a gazelle mating prance.

9.After getting doinked by Bronson Arroyo during the regular season, A-Rod spends months plotting revenge and ultimately selects the "limp-wristed, forearm slap" as his rebuttal of choice. Schill gets roughed up in Game 1 of the ALCS and opts to get even quickly by stifling Yankees hitters with a gutsy Game 6 performance that everyone (not just Schill) is still talking about.

8. Schill could buy a hotdog at his home stadium in late October. A-Rod couldn't.

7.The stitching of Jason Varitek's glove gets introduced to A-Rod's running mouth, and the game later ends in a Sox win. The stitching of Boston's team doctor gets introduced to Schill's ankle, and the game later ends in a Sox win.

6.The good-natured Schilling arrives in Boston and immediately amuses the Sox faithful with entertaining Dunkin Donuts commercials that show him struggling as he practices his Boston accent. The self-important A-Rod is targeted by MTV's Punk'd (all in good fun) but gets upset and later demands that the tapes of the prank be destroyed.

5. Schill is sleeping just fine these days.

4.Diamondbacks struggle after Schilling's departure. The Rangers become one of baseball's most-improved teams after A-Rod flies the coop.

3. The biggest controversy surrounding Schill's teammate at first base is his decision to keep a historical World Series ball. The biggest controversy surrounding A-Rod's teammate at first base is, well, you know...

2. Manager's words of wisdom to Schilling as spring training approaches: "Keep doing what you're doing." Manager's words of wisdom to A-Rod as spring training approaches: "If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem."

1. Schill's got the '04 World Series bling-ring!

(Posted 2/6/05)

LIVING IN THE PAST:While flipping through the TV channels last night, I had to pass through the YES network (for the uninitiated, this is the channel that televises all of the Yankees games). It was showing Game Seven of the 2003 ALCS, with a little graphic in the upper right-hand corner of the screen that read "Yankees Classic". Is this airing really supposed to make the Yankees fans happy? Frankly, I know a fair number of Sox fans who now cherish that same game, because it helped build-up the most dramatic and cathartic post-season victory (2004 ALCS) of all time. No longer do any of us feel the need to give Aaron Boone a "special" middle name. These days, it's simply Aaron Boone. So keep showing that Yankees Classic, YES. We like how the sequel ends.

(Posted 2/1/05)

WORLD SERIES TROPHY ABOUT TO PASS THROUGH THE BERKSHIRES:The current word on the street is that the World Series trophy will be passing though the Berkshires in Massachusetts this weekend, with Johnny Damon and Trot Nixon possibly in tow. One of the scheduled stops is the Locker Room sports bar in Lee, MA. We have thrown back a few drinks in that bar over the past few years. In fact, one of its waitresses--Dana O'Brien--was one of the first people to ever wear a Yankees Hater cap. We gave Dana a couple of the early prototypes about a year ago (long before Curt Schilling and David Ortiz wore the caps). We were anxious to hear about the comments she received from her customers as she wore the cap in the bar. Dana's early feedback led us to believe that we might be successful with these caps. That was the sort of feedback we needed to push on with our project. The rest is history. If you are in the area this weekend, make sure to stop in to the Locker Room (located on Main St. in Lee, MA) and say hello to Dana. Who knows: you might also get a chance to see the trophy and a few Sox players passing through.

(Posted 1/30/05)

SOUTH BOSTON RESIDENT: I'VE GOT YOUR PARKING SPOT RIGHT HERE! Nora Lyons, a YH cap owner and website visitor, sent us the following snippet from South Boston: "On the Channel 5 news tonight, they were interviewing people from "Southie" [South Boston] who can no longer save shoveled-out parking spots with the traditional lawn chairs, road cones and milk crates. One guy--particularly mad about the major's decision on the matter--was wearing an unmistakable Yankees Hater hat! I believe it was the [blue] Fenway's Reverse cap." [Editor's Note: We're always happy to see our YH caps get air time (so thanks for the head-up, Nora!), but there's a bigger issue here. Let's see if we can get this straight: a guy gets up at the crack of dawn to shovel 16 inches of snow away from the parking space in front of his home, and is expected to keep his gasket intact when an opportunistic motorist nabs the spot as the resident darts up the street to get some milk and bread? Let's write a sample police blotter entry right now: South Boston, 6:23 a.m.-- Dermott McGlinty was cited for disorderly conduct after shoveling three feet of snow behind the rear wheels of a parked car owned by Aurelio Sanchez.].

(Posted 1/30/05)

BIG PAPI USES YH CAP AS CHEF'S HAT:Mike Chase--a presumed Sox fan and website visitor--writes: "First off, I like what you're doing with the site and the clothing, mucho grande props. I was watching the FAITH REWARDED DVD's "special features" the other day and flipped on the segment of David Ortiz cooking [in his kitchen] when I noticed his hat. It was none other than a genuine Yankees Hater hat. I'm sure this has been mentioned to you 89,000 times since the segment aired, but I figured I'd let you know anyway. Rock on and keep the hatred flowing...2004 World Series Champs. [Editors Note: The FAITH REWARDED