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So why exactly do I hate the Yankees?

There was a time, long ago, when I rooted for the Yankees.  I remember it well, actually.

It was the fall of 1996.  I was a senior in high school and a lot of my closest friends were Yankee fans.  Back then, it didn’t matter so much that we rooted for opposite teams, because the Mets were perennially bad and the Yankees weren’t quite so hated yet. I remember sitting in my best friend’s house with a group of guys, watching the final game of the World Series.  I remember the fat guy who played third base (his name is escaping me right now) catching the final out in foul territory.  I remember jumping out of my seat with the rest of the gathered crowd and cheering.  I remember high-fiveing the guys around me and being happy that they won.  Yup, I was happy.

So why did I cheer then, but have, in the intervening years, come to “hate” the Yankees?  What has elicited such nasty feelings of ire whenever I see them on TV?  What makes me root for any team they play, and cheer when one of their players gets hurt?  (When Jeter got hurt on Opening Day a couple years back, I hung his picture and the headline on my desk at work.)

I’ve had a hard time rationalizing this lately.  So I came up with a list of reasons why I think my hatred of the Yankees began. Here goes:

1. They outspend everyone
2. Their players act like it’s a job, not a game
3. They went nuts with the free agents and trades
4. The way they treated their manager

All of these are logical points.  They’re all true and no Yankee fan can dispute them.  I’m trying to avoid such arguments as “because they’re jerks” or “Jeter is over-rated” because I want to be fair.  You may see where I’m going with this.

EVERY ONE OF THESE POINTS CAN BE APPLIED TO THE 2008 NEW YORK METS.  And that makes me sick.

1. They outspend everyone: They have the highest payroll in the National League. They currently are spending $138 million, almost $20 million more than the Cubs and Dodgers, who are second and third in the NL.  The Cubs currently have the best record in baseball, and the Dodgers are second in the NL West. Meanwhile, the Mets are paying their “slugging” cleanup hitter with 8 home runs $18.6 million, their offensively-challenged first baseman $16 million, and their oft-injured left-fielder (15 games in 2008) $7.5 million.  Additionally, Luis Castillo is at $6.25 million but should be more in the $2-2.5 million range; Scott Schoeneweis is at $3.6 million but should be in the minor leagues; and Orlando Hernandez, who will not pitch in 2008, is at $7 million.  This sort of spending is not just exorbitant—it’s illogical.

2. They players act like it’s a job, not a game: And they’re right.  Baseball is their job.  But we all have heard the annoyed fans cry a thousand times about how they’d gladly switch occupations with any player on the team, and that’s just the flat out truth.  Sure, their days are tough; traveling from coast to coast like the Mets have had to do this last three weeks would be rough on anyone.  But anytime that Carlos Beltran wants to come and teach my senior English class about existentialism and then come home and grade 140 essays about Hamlet’s procrastination, write lesson plans, grade tests, call parents, attend faculty/department/staff/adviser/board/and Middlestates meetings, I’d gladly switch and play center field for a day.  The point is, Reyes used to look like he was having fun.  David Wright used to smile when he played.  Now, it looks like they’re both tired and ready for the off-season after the first at-bat of every game.

3. They went nuts with free agents and trades: What drove me crazy about he Yankees was that they kept adding players that they didn’t need to their team.  They had a great core group of guys that were either home-grown or acquired as parts to fill in rather than superstars to dominate.  While Paul O’Neal and Scott Brosius weren’t original Yankees, they weren’t leaders of other teams brought over to stand like Nelson Muntz over Millhouse.  When the Yankees added Roger Clemens, I could live with that, even though they got rid of a guy who probably bled blue and white (David Wells).  But then it was Giambi, and Mussina, and … well, you know the list.

So now let’s look at what the Mets have done.  First there was Mike Piazza, but that was okay because he was the only real superstar they “bought.”  The other guys on the teams around him were all either home-grown or acquired in a way that wasn’t unfair. And when they tried to surround Piazza with “bought” talent (Mo Vaughn, Roberto Alomar, Jeromy Burnitz, Mike Hampton, etc), the teams imploded.  I thought they would have learned their lesson.  The payroll had skyrocketed to $117 million, and when Omar Minaya took over, he said he wanted to build a franchise like the Braves and keep it perpetually stocked to replace talent from within while supporting with talent from without.  But when Piazza was on his way out, in came Pedro and Beltran.  I justified this when it happened because again, they were guys who would be leaders and stand alone atop the leadership and accountability chain.  Plus, they were free agents and the Mets didn’t have to give anything up to acquire them.  But wait: then can Delgado and LoDuca and Castillo and now Santana and… will Mark Texieria play first base next year?  The point is, the Mets are doing exactly what the Yankees did after the 2001 World Series.   Where is Minaya’s plan to build a strong system?  The Mets are generally ranked among the three worst minor league systems in the whole of MLB; that doesn’t sound like a well-established plan to me.

4. The way they treated their manager: After they were eliminated from the playoffs last season, the Yankees basically said to Joe Torre: “We don’t care what you’ve done for us of the past dozen years; we’re going to leave you hanging for a while and let the press eat you alive and tear your life apart.”  I’ve made no secret of the fact that I never thought Joe Torre was a great manger, but the simple fact that the was around for so long should have at the very least warranted a more respectful and more private determination of his fate.  And when he walked away for their half-assed offer, I applauded him more than I ever had before.

So what exactly is happening to Willie Randolph right now?  He’s being left out to dry.  Every day some newspaper writes an article about “is this Willie’s last day?” or “will Omar/Wilpon fire Willie today?”  It’s gotten to be such a joke.  I’m not a fan of Willie Randolph at all.  Personally, I thought he should have been fired two years ago.  But to leave a guy who has been nothing but classy to face these ridiculous media whores ever day, to refuse to either support or fire the guy, that’s just wrong.  What is Omar thinking here?  Why doesn’t he just fire him or say that Willie is the manager for the duration???  Doing either one would have allowed this team to move on and try to put the distractions aside.  Instead, we’re faced every single day with the same old story.  This is a very classless move on the part of the Wilpons and Omar Minaya.

So ultimately, what conclusions can we draw from this?  I don’t know.  I either don’t know why I hate the Yankees, or I don’t know why I’m a Mets fan.  Both answers are painful, and both will cause me to lose a lot of sleep in the next few days, I’m sure.

So let’s get real. Today’s 12-1 bludgeoning of the Dodgers notwithstanding, this Mets team stinks. How many leads have dissipated over the past month? How many runners have been left on base? How few comebacks have there been? I can’t seem to remember any exciting, come from behind walk-off wins. Why? Because this team stinks. Let’s look around the field and I’ll show you.

• Carlos Delgado: Do I really need to justify this? He has all of 25 hits despite the fact that he’s played in all but one game. ‘Nuff said.

• Luis Castillo: My dislike of Castillo is well-documented on this website, and with good cause. The man just doesn’t hit. Just a couple years ago, he was one of the premier speedsters in the game; now, he hardly gets on base, as his .353 OBP demonstrates. More than that though, the man doesn’t know how to smile. He doesn’t look like he even wants to be on this team. I can deal with a slump, but I won’t root for a guy who doesn’t seem like he cares.

• Jose Reyes: His 10 steals is indicative of one thing: he’s not getting on base! He has a .324 OPB, which is among the worst of all the NL leadoff hitters. He has 32 hits and just 14 walks, which are numbers that show that maybe we’re all “blinded by speed.”

• David Wright: His defense has been great (we can attribute his 6 errors to a combination of crappy score-keepers, bad luck, and a less-than-strong arm), but that’s it. He started off hot and has dropped his average pretty consistently every week of the season. His 24 strikeouts are scary considering that he was once among the hardest players to whiff in the game. But what really bothers me about Wright is his hesitation to become the leader. We all know that it’s just a matter of time before he becomes the captain, and it seems like until then he’s planning on keeping quiet. The man needs to step it up and become the clubhouse leader; if he does that, I’ll forgive his declining numbers and write them off as a slump.

• Carlos Beltran: He’s playing like a nervous rookie. He’s timid, he’s light-hitting, and he’s looking like he’d be sent down to AA if that were an option. But like Wright, I can deal with the poor numbers if he acts like he’s trying, like he cares. I know that we don’t see what happens behind the scenes, but I’ve not read one article, seen one interview, or heard one report about Wright or Beltran getting on teammates for not hustling or trying to get guys pumped up. We’d hear something from some source if any of that were happening.

I love Ryan Church because he looks like he’s having a blast, and that’s the type of player I want to watch. Billy Wager has been lights out, but that doesn’t matter; what matters is that HE CARES. He got angry and had his well-documented tirade about Oliver Perez and the slacker attitude that he has seen in the clubhouse. I LOVE that he cares. Moises Alou and Brian Schneider haven’t played enough to judge them, so I’ll withhold analysis for now.

The point of this is that the guys just don’t look like they are concerned, and that worries me. My brother, a Phillies fan, calls me every time the Phillies have a come-from-behind rally—he seems to call me every damn day! I want that sort of passion on the Mets. I want to be able to have confidence that, when they’re down by a few runs, the game isn’t over yet. I hate believing that they wave the white flag as soon as they fall behind. That’s just not fun to watch at all.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again (though I hope I don’t have to): I won’t root for a team that doesn’t care.

Dear Carlos,

Coming in to today’s game, you were hitting .195.  You had all of two home runs and eleven RBI’s.  You were not contributing offensively at all, and your defense is below average at best.  You are coming off the worst season of your pro-career, and you have publically admitted as much on numerous occasions.  You were benched yesterday. Despite all of this, you are making $16,000,000.

I’m quite sure that if you were to examine your own stats without knowing that they were your own stats, you would surly think that the player should be sent to AAA.  To be among the highest paid players in the game, one would think you should at least be an “average” offensive player.

Carlos Delgado, you are NOT an average player.  The paycheck that you earn and the expectations that are thrust upon you ensure that you have superstar status, even if you no longer have superstar ability.

Today, you hit two home runs.  Today, you looked like you could actually earn your paycheck.  And today, the fans cheered for you like you were a triumphant emperor being carried home after a victory in a bloody foreign war.  And today, you told the fans to kiss your ass.

We wanted a curtain call, and you gave us the finger.  We wanted to cheer for you, and you had sex with our sister.  We wanted nothing short of a few seconds to embrace you, and you completely and utterly ignored us.

Sure, you’ve been booed.  Sure, you’ve been given a hard time. But quite frankly, you don’t even rank on the list of disappointing players who have felt the wrath of Mets fans.  Ask Bobby Bonilla, Vince Coleman, Braden Looper, Roberto Alomar, George Foster, Armando Benetiz, et.  They have a right to be bitter to the Shea fans.  YOU, Carlos, you do not.

So Carlos, today, when you chose to ignore the fans that wanted a curtain call, you may have stuck your foot in the door and served notice that someday very soon you will be on that list above, that list of players who will never be embraced by the fans. And for that, I say:

F%*# You, Carlos Delgado, F%*# You.