What If?

This past weekend I returned to Philadelphia for my University's homecoming. It was a great weekend of Pat's cheesesteaks and sex parties, you know the standard Ivy League shakedown. While college was on my mind, the city of Philadelphia had a different buzz. No one would shut up about T.O.

Walking through the ghetto of South Philly or standing in UPenn's supermarket or overhearing conversations at any bar I walked into, it seemed like every other word spoken was about T.O.

On Sunday, I journied out to the suburbs to spend the day with a family that I am very close with. I was a camp counselor for the two boys about six years back and having spent four years in Philly, they became my surrogate Philadelphia family.

I arrived at their house right before Giants kickoff. I was excited but hungover and barely able to keep my eyes open. A Giants win against the lowly 49ers was expected, whereas a loss would have brought a dreaded sobering reality to all of us Giants fans.

But here, at this nice suburban home, the day was a grind. 4 hours...3 hours...2 hours... until the Sunday night Eagles game.

I sat there in the living room as a family of four, upper class, well-educated people couldn't contain themselves in excitement for a week 9 Sunday night game.

I remembered talking to all my friends from Philly the night before and all they could talk about was how big Sunday night's game would be.

Then I remembered driving around in Philadelphia on Sunday, but the city seemed quiet. I guess it's because the Eagles played sunday night.

See Philadelphia, just like pretty much every other city in the country has one team in every sport. Every person in Philadelphia can look at each other and know that they are both Eagle fans.

The city screams when its teams win and silences when its teams lose. The city is painted green in the winter and red in the spring. People in the worst neighborhoods of the inner city and the nicest suburbs all spend their weeks talking about the same thing, right now, T.O.

So then I thought to myself, What if? What if New York was a one-team town. What if the greatest city with the most energy and most dense population all centered around the New York Mets?

I think about the Mets and the Yankees and the divide that these teams have created in my life.
Growing up, pretty much every single one of my friends were Mets fans. There was one who wasn't, but we peer-pressured him to the point that he had no choice, he turned to the better side.

Then there was my one close friend who was a Yankees fan. In baseball, he was the pitcher and I was the catcher. We both loved sports, girls, drinking etc. (Steve Sanders eat your heart out!) We probably would have been inseparable, only he was a Yankee fan.

The girl that I spent many of my days with in high school. She was beautiful, smart, all my friends loved her, and even she was a great athlete who loved sports. Only she was a Yankees fan.

Hell, in my first day of unemployment (yes, as of today I am officially a free agent if anyone is hiring) the one thing I have going on, besides the smell of Blondies buffalo wings for MNF, is a blog that I write about hating a NEW YORK sports team.

Today I can truly say that in terms of fanship, I go Mets, Giants then hating the Yankees with a very close margin separating two and three.

So where would my life be if New York only had one team? Who would the people that I know be? What would I be doing with my life?

See, I can honestly say that being a Mets fan is a huge part of who I am. Baseball is my hobby and the Mets are my team. I don't go to music shows or read Newsweek, I watch Mets games and read the Post.

Pretty much all the things I love about New York, the people, my neighborhood, Shea, all revolve around the Mets. At the same time, pretty much every ounce of spite I have towards New York I blame on the Yankees.

I associate asshole New York City transplants with casual "why not, its the NEW YORK thing to do" Yankee fans. That girl who is really, really hot but sucks is clearly a Yankee fan for those 2 weeks in October when baseball is more important than Sex and The City. And those assholes decked in all black wandering the streets of Murray Hill, they are obviously Yankee Fans.

Its a really weird thought. What if all of New York just had one? What if everyone just rooted for New York sports? If the city was divided between real fans and casual fans; but when it really mattered, a win was a win for everyone, it was a win for New York.

I think this divide is what kills New York sports, perhaps for the bad, but maybe for the good. Yes, it is a warm feeling being in a city that oozes green (Philadelphia) or blue and red (Boston), which is why I have always argued that those cities are better sports towns. Those cities, as a whole, are happier when their team wins.

But, if and when that day comes that the Mets win the World Series, I know exactly where I'll be and exactly who with. I'll be with my friends, Mets fans. And in that micro section of New York City, there would never be a happier place. I may not be able to walk down the street and hug every person in sight. I might not even find a bar to celebrate where everyone really cares.

But this is what New York has. As Mets fans, we are making the best of it. We don't have to deal with Rick from Wisconsin jumping on our bandwagon nor that awful girl that you can't decide if you want to sleep with or knock out.

We have each other. So while the scale may be smaller the heart is a hell of a lot bigger.

Vaya con dios,

Sippy Momo, free agent