Searching for answers among the pinstriped

A friend of mine really hates the Yankees. Every time I'm at his apartment in the evening, I find him yelling at the television, shooting spittle all over the screen. And every time, the Yankees are playing, and Jerome is yelling at the team's players. I don't know why he hates them so much or why watching the Yankees causes him to boil over with rage. I don't understand it — he lives in the Bronx and has Yankee gear all over the walls of his bedroom. All I know is that it's scary when the veins in his head become so visible that I'm worried one will pop and I'll have to spend the night in the emergency room.

This situation got particularly bad in May. One night I stopped by only to find Jerome on the ground in a catatonic state, his eyes open but his body completely still. I turned to the TV, fearing the worst, and lo and behold, the Yankees were playing the Seattle Mariners. They were winning, which must have been the cause of his symptoms. I quickly ran out of the house, remembering I had a dentist's appointment.

The next day, I decided that I should try to help my friend with his problem. I jumped on the subway and headed toward Yankee Stadium to see a game, hoping to understand my friend's illness. I arrived, bought a ticket and found my seat. Next to me was a man, also alone, though he did have a hot dog in each hand. I struck up a conversation with him before the game started. I think he was a Yankee fan, but I'm still not sure. He was wearing a traditional Yankee pinstriped jersey with the number three on the back. The program did not list anyone as number three, which was confusing.

Anyway, I asked him why some people hate the Yankees so much. He said that the people who hate the Yankees are either from Boston or from Queens. My friend, again, is from the Bronx, so I pressed on with more questions.

I asked the man with the hot dog — it was just one by this point — if he was a Yankee fan. He looked at me funny and said that he was. I asked him if he liked how the season was going and he looked at me even funnier and said nothing. I wasn't getting through, until I asked him to sum up what he likes about the Yankees. With this question, his eyes lit up. He was positively beaming. He turned to me and explained:

"We [he really did say 'we,' I don't understand why, maybe he was a player on the team?] are the best team ever to play any sport on the face of the earth. We have the most championships of any sports team ever. We have the best fans and the most heart," he said.

Then the game started and he didn't say another word to me. He was too busy yelling at the players on the field. There was only one he really liked, a guy named Jeter, who was clearly this man's hero. I thought Jeter looked like a prissy ballerina when he fielded the ball and jumped in the air, turning around at the same time. He didn't even throw the ball to first.

But the man next to me hated everyone else on the field, especially this guy named Rodriguez. Rodriguez struck out three times in the game, every time looking, which is worse, I think. After the third time he struck out the man next to me kissed the number three jersey he was wearing. A lot of other people in the Stadium hated Rodriguez as well. I always thought you were supposed to root for your team, to urge them on. Maybe Rodriguez was a bad character off the field.

The game ended on a sour note for me but a good one for everyone else. The Yankees were losing by two in the bottom of the ninth, and Rodriguez came up with two men on base. He hit the first pitch he saw for a home run, and the game was over. The Yankees had won, and I thought of poor Jerome, sitting at home and spitting all over his TV. I hadn't figured out how to cure him, and I hadn't even figured out what the problem was — as the man next to me said, the Yankees were the best team ever, so I don't know what Jerome's beef with them was.

On a side note, when Rodriguez hit that home run, the guy next to me ripped off his pinstriped number three jersey. I saw him a couple minutes after the game buying a jersey with Rodriguez's number on it. There are a lot of things I don't understand.