In the next weeks, I’ll be scouring the American League in an effort to find a team for which to root. Obviously, I have the Mets in the National League, but I haven’t rooted for an American League team consistently since the Red Sox in college. Yes, that’s right, I sold out in college. I was dating a carpet-bagging Yankees fan at the time (she was from the Pacific Northwest), so I felt the need to be contrary. Thus, I wore a Red Sox hat every single day around my Washington, DC campus and was fully ingratiated into the Red Sox Nation when Keith Foulke recorded the last out of Game Four against the Cardinals.
In time, however, Red Sox fans became almost as irritating and showed almost as large a sense of entitlement as Yankee fans and my interest waned in them waned. But now, I’m back in the market. I’m willing to put aside my abhorrence for the DH and hitch my interest to an American League team (in addition, of course, to my beloved Mets). Within months, I’ll be living in Boston full-time, but I’m not willing to allow geography to determine my voting interest in the Junior Circuit.
Thus, I’m planning a Survivor-style analysis of the teams of the American League. Each post (say one or two each week), I’ll eliminate a team from contention. My hope is to have a new object of my affection by the All-Star Break.
American League: Impress me, I dare you.
I’m also going to be posting an ongoing series of columns titled, “Memory and Reality.” Within each post, I’ll dig back into my baseball memory to narrate certain points I remember about players, games and teams. Then I’ll dig through baseball-reference.com to check if the memory is fact, fiction or somewhere in between.
My first topic: The Rockies killed Bill Swift’s career.