Crazy Yankee Chick: A Yank Fan's Work is Never Done...


You'd think we'd get a bit of a respite today. A welcome, much needed off day. I'm not talking about the players. I'm referring to the fans.

Theoretically, New Yorker supporters should be able to enjoy the pressure-free expanse of a playoff-less day. If the Twins thought they had it rough having to travel to the Evil Empire's lair after an extra-innings nailbiter, then think about how bad it is for Yankee fans who have to follow up a postseason game with the standard bouts of combating haters.

As my buddy once wrote in an email: "You certainly didn't choose the easy route when you elected to become an online superhero defending all things pinstripe. You should at least get free fountain drinks for all the hard work."

No rest for the weary, I tell ya. Now it's time to temporarily shift my focus away from my beloved Yankees and towards the embittered ire of, well, every other baseball fan. Giddy up.

Really, Minnesota? Really?

Is that how you wanna play it? Cuz I'll play it like that. I'll play it like Lionel Richie, baby. All night long.

The scrappy little Twins Our cohorts at our cousin publication have decided to condense their laundry list of New York grievances into a "10 Things I Hate About the Yankees" missive.

(My personal favorite reasons are Joe Torre and Chuck Knoblauch. Which is like refusing to go to Europe because of Jack the Ripper.)

Sigh. Oh, midwesterners. Your fluffy derision isn't as hard-hitting when it's batting against the seasonsed Bronx. Maybe flapping your arms about the Yankee payroll is Minneapolis' way of spitting vitriol, but, like your boys last night, you don't know what you're up against.

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