Just a spring thing? Not!

I really want to agree with the guys over at River Avenue Blues, I do. When they write in today’s postings that this afternoons Yankees-Red Sox matchup at Legends Field is meaningless, they are, essentially, right.

And wrong.

There is a time for everything under the sun, and today’s meaningless spring game is no time for beanballs, chest-thumping, spikes-up slides, or X-rated taunts from the dugouts. And the writers at River Avenue are correct when they see the media need not treat this like game seven of the ALCS. But for the fans, at least this fan, there is never a time to let this rivalry go.

In the end, does any of this baseball stuff that we infect our lives with mean anything? No, of course it doesn’t. And call me infantile, juvenile, childish, or just plain sad, but I carry my Red Sox hatred in the open, and meaningless or not, I know the sight, just the sight, of that cap, that logo, that big, fat, Jello-parfait of a DH (is he even playing today?), that manager who can’t keep his mouth closed when he chews (and I don’t care that Joe Torre liked him)… any and all of that, plus a laundry list more, will have me doing push-ups between innings and howling at Taiwan's midnight moon. And let, just let, the Red Sox get a lead, any lead -- a lucky, meaningless, one-run lead -- at any point in the game, and watch my head disintegrate like that poor sap in Scanners.

Meaningless? It very well may be. But it’s still Boston, and we’re still New York.

Go, Yankees!