THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, October 20, 1996 TAG: 9610200161
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Bob Molinaro
LENGTH: 81 lines
Hating the Yankees is as American as pizza pie, unwed mothers and cheating on your income tax.
Mike Royko, 1981.
If only that were true in 1996, at the start of another World Series. Baseball would be healthier for it.
But the good old days, when it was every American's duty to jeer the Yankees, are no more.
People who have lost their faith in baseball and the good old days can point to this year's Yankees as an example of what's wrong with our changing world.
Hardly anyone hates these Yankees, who are characterized as a sincerely modest, selfless group. Is it any wonder the fun has gone out of the game?
Maybe if baseball had a real commissioner, people might hate the Yankees as they once did. A commissioner could return baseball to its proper orbit, where everybody in navy-blue pinstripes would be a detestable, contemptible louse as God intended.
Anyone with a memory and an appreciation for traditional values knows what the Yankees are meant to represent.
They are a well-oiled Billy Martin sucker-punching someone in a bar.
They are Reggie Jackson, the self-proclaimed ``straw that stirs the drink,'' preening for the media.
They are a surly Mickey Mantle, losing home runs in a bottle.
They are Mike Kekich and Fritz Peterson, the wife-swappers.
Hating all things Yankee is a solid concept that has served America well for generations. It's not hard, though, to see why it has suddenly gone out of fashion. Today's Yankees are so cuddly, they make Al Gore look like a carjacker.
But in the process of becoming unhateable, the current Yankees betray a great American trust. Yankees were never meant to be as endearing as Bernie Williams, the switch-hitting centerfielder.
``I'm just part of a great group of guys doing great teamwork,'' is one of his controversial comments.
But wait. It gets worse. Derek Jeter, the Rookie-of-the-Year candidate at shortstop, is said to be equally self-effacing, while second baseman Mariano Duncan keeps a box in the clubhouse for teammates and visitors to drop off shoes for the needy. Surely, performing an act this admirable constitutes conduct unbecoming a Yankee.
But, then, this has been a season of role reversal for the Yankees.
Dwight Gooden, a reclamation project, pitches a no-hitter and even long-time Bronx bashers moisten up.
Cecil Fielder, who suffered for so long with the Detroit Tigers, comes over to the Yankees and people discover another reason to get all gooey over the New Yorkers. You've got to admit, with Fielder, there's a lot to love.
Then you've got Tino Martinez, the first baseman. How can you dislike somebody named Tino?
But the person doing more than anyone to destroy the great American custom of Yankee hating is manager Joe Torre.
Not even a population brought up to despise the Yankees can root against the mild-mannered manager whose brother lies in a hospital awaiting a heart transplant. If that doesn't move you, one of Torre's sisters is a nun.
Working in such a wholesome atmosphere has even helped the image of Darryl Strawberry. He is a self-confessed wife-beater, drug-abuser and tax-evader. If that's not bad enough, he was the most obnoxious New York Met at a time when the Mets were as repulsive as any old Yankee team.
But this year, Strawberry is transformed. He's the prodigal son. His every hit is celebrated as a spiritual rebirth.
Some of the softening of attitudes toward the Yankees is a product of time. Their 15-year absence from baseball's center stage makes the pinstripes seem less odious.
In some ways, the Atlanta Braves have become the Yankees of the 1990s.
For long-time Yankee loathers, the last remaining shred of tradition is boorish George Steinbrenner. But in this World Series, even Steinbrenner's presence is offset by that of Atlanta owner Ted Turner, equally annoying in his own way.
What we have here is folklore turned on its head: The Yankees enter the World Series portrayed as gallant, sympathetic underdogs. It is a sad commentary on our times.
Bill Veeck once said, ``Rooting for the Yankees is like rooting for U.S. Steel.''
Now it's like rooting for Barney. by CNB