Go, Yankees!

I’m rooting for the Yankees these days. In fact, I’m screaming at the TV like those crazy fans in the seats. Go, Jeter! Yeah! He’s the man! As I swill my cold beer and munch on something crispy – anything will do, as long as it’s salty – my husband crooks his neck to look over at me and ask, “What’s gotten into you?”

I wonder myself, what’s gotten into me? I, who never drinks anything more potent than a cup of de-caffeinated mint tea after dinner, am looking for a cold one as the opening music announces the beginning of game five. I blame the commercials. How can you resist a cold beer after that Budweiser commercial? Everyone on the TV is drinking a frothy beer and laughing. I want to be happy, too!

I want to slap someone’s hand when Damon slides in for a home run, so I lift my hand up into the air and look over to the only other life form in the room. But my husband is fully horizontal on his recliner with his hands locked behind his head. No excitement there.

I never was a sports fan. I find football boring, but at least they have a half time show. What does baseball have? A seven inning stretch? Woo-hoo! Talk about excitement!

These days are different. Now, I go through my day thinking, Oh! There’s a game tonight! I think about my men. Jorge, keep your comments to yourself tonight; don’t anger the ump! I’m secretly glad they lost last night so I’ll have another game to watch on Wednesday. I’m waiting for Andy Pettitte to pitch again. I like to watch his solemn face concentrating before he winds up for the pitch. And he has a strong resemblance to my oldest son. I talk to him through the TV: Come on, Andy, concentrate, relax. And what about that Johnny Damon! Checking his stats this morning, I was amazed to find that he is young enough to be my son.

Maybe that’s why I like watching these guys. They are so young and full of health and life and stamina, vigor and energy, something I lack these days. But for a few hours, I can feel that spark of youth, swill my beer and feel like I’m out there running the bases too. I get the same rush when I watch the Olympics. I want to start an exercise program, go on a diet, improve my health. (So why am I drinking beer and eating salty veggie sticks?)

Now I can understand why people have those Super Bowl parties. Enthusiasm is contagious and it’s such a great physical release to shout and jump like children do every day when they play. We go through our serious work days trying to contain enthusiasm and remain calm at all times. It’s just plain fun to jump up and down and shout with abandon, to do a little jig when the shouting isn’t enough to express your excitement, and to be among people who are acting as ridiculous as you are. It’s a time when we can wear team shirts and silly hats, wave neon noodles, white rags or anything else to show our team spirit. It’s a time when we can be children again.

I’m looking forward to game six, a cold brewski, some salty popcorn and a close loss – so we can have one more game to watch.