Do you remember the kid in elementary school that had everything everybody wanted? Every day he had a new toy, new clothes, a new gold tooth … whatever. The worst part about not being that kid was not so much your family’s inability to provide you with the goodies and fancy clothes but the little jerk’s incessant bragging about his.
“Everyone check me out! I’ve got all this cool stuff and you got nothin.’ I do so love being me and not you.”
Or something to that effect.
Most times in life, that spoiled little brat is humbled sooner or later and comes down off his high horse. He remains rich, only now he is content with that fact and is no longer compelled to boost his own sense of self-worth by putting others down. It’s called growing up. Unfortunately, there are those who never learn. Sometimes the rich kid never has the kind of life experiences or parents that teach him a lesson in humility and he matures into adulthood under the impression that it is his God-given right to have money, and power and every other spoil that accompanies it. This is the path followed by one George Steinbrenner.
Steinbrenner, now 73 years old, acquired the role of parent/guardian of the New York Yankees some 30 years ago and has since been fixated on providing for his offspring, or the fans of his team. In such time he has bought them anything they have wanted, all the newest and coolest “toys” available, without a care in the world as to what kind of people such lavishing creates, simply because he doesn’t recognize what it likewise did to him. The same arrogance that is obvious in the way George runs his team is evident in the team’s fans as well.
I was never more certain of the makeup of their character than the night of the Yankee Game 7 victory (or escape from, if you prefer) over our beloved Red Sox. There they were, moments after Aaron Boone hit the second-most improbable game-wining home run at the expense of the Red Sox ever (second to Bucky F. Dent), acting like children in the streets of Boston. I walked along Hemenway Street after the game, and I couldn’t believe what I saw: people with Yankees jerseys, flags and banners making themselves as visible as possible. The onslaught came from all directions: obscenities shouted from the fifth floor of apartments (bravery defined, I know) at the broken-hearted Sox fans below, the “New York, New York” song blaring out of their windows, fingers being waved too close for comfort in Sox fans’ faces and some things inappropriate for print in a school newspaper.
Now, before anyone jumps to the conclusion that I am merely a sore loser allow me to state that I think rivalries are the best things going in sports. I think a lot of people would agree that being able to razz on your friends or (playfully) taunt some guy in a Yankees hat is part of what makes being a Sox fan enjoyable in the first place. But there is a very clear difference between playful taunts and outright disrespect. Before I enter into an explanation of why the Yankee fans’ behavior can only be classified as the latter (because I doubt they can figure it out for themselves), consider the following: When is the last time someone undergoing treatment for turf toe skipped around a hospital and made fun of the terminally ill patients, exulting the fact that they were prescribed rest and salt baths while they were prescribed coffins?
Scratching your heads, Yankee fans? The answer to this question is “never,” because adults know when and where it is appropriate to use restraint. It is the reason that we don’t hold a grudge against the rich kid anymore, because we realize that little children can be forgiven of that ignorance, that lack of respect and class. Unfortunately, the same benefit of the doubt cannot be allowed to anyone that participated in that ugly display last Thursday. The whole lot of you were in short supply of class and not to sound like a parent or anything, but you should be ashamed of yourselves.
-Andy Silvia is a junior civil engineering major.
