I'm Not Bitter...

I've been giving a lot of thought over the past week about the direction I might take with my next blog. I wasn't sure if I wanted to just choose random topics or set out each week with a goal or theme and write about that. After little deliberation, I chose the latter, specifically this week, the epically disgusting fruit I tried called the durian. It took awhile for me to find the thorny fruit, it had to thaw out, and the taste lived up to its putrid reputation. Needless to say I had plenty to work with and it would've been really easy to write about.

However, after sitting through another baseball game in which a specific team's fans made me more angry than the game itself, I have decided that the durian must wait. I cannot sit back while the sports world is under attack by an enemy from the North East. An enemy that touts his or her team's sports wear at funerals and weddings, a team that has attracted every fair weather sports fan from across the country. Ten years ago, I could only be talking about one fan base: Yankees fans. Anyone who follows pro baseball or has a functioning cerebellum has heard of this team and their obnoxious followers. They are loud, they instigate fights, walk around at games (that the Yankees are not a participant in) wearing their team's gear from head to toe. Their only saving grace is that their team has won the most championships of any other team in North American sports history. As much as you hate them, they are tolerated; loathed, but tolerated for the simple fact that their team produces. They produced yesterday, today, and unfortunately, those S.O.B.'s will be producing for years to come.

But the torch has been passed. No longer are Yankees fans the most arrogant, vulgar patrons on the prowl. Congratulations New Englanders, you are alone at the top! Red Sox Nation, which has always played second fiddle to their rivals in the Bronx, can now take their place at the top of the list for having the most vomit inducing fans on the face of the earth. Everything about them makes me want to punch a stranger in the face. Their team has only been closely competing for championships for the past five years yet their fan base (which apparently is 25 percent of the country given that every middle aged white male from S.F. to Hyannis Port wears a Sox fan hat and cant wait to tell you how much he loves Big Papi [I wont even begin to talk about that freaking guy]) acts like they've been running the show all along. They are kind of like that kid you played pick up basketball with in high school who loses time and time again but once he finally wins one, you never hear the end of it.

I'm sure you're telling yourself, "Ppssshhh, this guys probably a Lakers or Angels fan who's just bitter about the Angels losing to the Red Sox the last two nights." Very good reader, well played. I am in fact a Lakers fan, and I am also an Angels fan, but despite having to sit through four hours of my team choking versus Satan's cavemen on national TV, me being a fan of their rivals has little bearing on this post. I am not alone in my distaste for these chowder-heads. Anyone with two eyes can spot a fair weather fan who got caught up with them "reversing the curse", and ask anyone at any ball park which team's fans are universally hated and nine times out of ten they'll tell you the Sox. This would never have been the case a decade ago, but the fact is that New England sports fans are now the worst and to say that we on the West coast are sick and tired about them is an understatement. Freaking ESPN is based out of Bristol, Connecticut! That means if their coach Terry Francona has bad gas from a meatball sandwich he had the night before, Sportscenter is goning to run fifteen minutes of coverage every hour on the hour till we get a dugout report telling us he's alright. Not to mention the bums that came out of the wood work to grab some spotlight once the team started to produce. I mean seriously, who the hell cares who Dane Cook, Ben Affleck, or Jimmy Fallon root for? The aforementioned Jimmy Fallon even had the balls to star in a movie centering around a die hard Red Sox fan. Fever Pitch is in the pantheon of douche, a feat rarely reached without trying. It makes me wish I had that magical ticket from the Last Action Hero so I could jump into the screen and slap everyone involved in the back of the head.

Unfortunately for us all, there seems there is no end in sight. Since these losers have finally won the world series after nearly 90 years, they are happy as clams and there is little if anything we can do until this honeymoon wears off. All we can do is hope they don't win for another 90 years so that this plague of wretched cretins will crawl back into whatever holes they have been hiding in the past century and go back to carrying themselves with some dignity, like cubs fans.
I leave you with a quote by Winston Churchill, "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." So go Yankees!