The New York Yankees versus the New York Mets…who says there’s no such thing as modern day miracles? I wouldn’t have missed watching this one for almost anything.

Amidst the excitement for the World Series, I have taken the time to reminisce about my own history as a baseball fan. My allegiance resides with, in my opinion, the most spectacular team in baseball: The New York Yankees.

Spectator sports were not encouraged in my home while growing up. Although my parents themselves were athletic, they didn’t follow professional sports. I recall not knowing what the Super Bowl was, as classmates boasted their enthusiasm. I still don’t follow football; there are just too many lines on the field. But at least I now know what the Super Bowl is, even if I don’t understand how it’s played. On the other hand, professional baseball is a sport I’ve come to understand and adore over the past few years.

My love affair started as a mild infatuation during the 1995 season. I came home from work one Saturday, tossed off my shoes, and jumped on the sofa. Nothing worthy of my attention was on the set. The final station I happened to switch to was broadcasting a baseball game. Nice and comfy on the couch, I decided to glance at the game until something worthwhile came on. The two teams competing that day were the Seattle Mariners and none other than the New York Yankees. Randy Johnson, "The Big Unit", was pitching for the Mariners; I winced each time a Yankee batter had to face him; I’d need a coat of armor to be at the receiving end of one of his pitches! Anyway, the game was so exciting, I found myself jumping around the living room, rooting for the Yankees with my unmistakably New York accent. I then realized I was born to be a fan.

I quickly learned the name, position, and batting average of each Yankee teammate. I vividly recall the way my heart was racing during the 1996 World Series. At one point, I yelled out loud, "I don’t need this kind of stress in my life!!!" Needless to say, I kept watching the series. During the 1998 Playoff games, I was involved in a wedding party. At the reception hall, I ran back and forth to the bar in my gown and high heels to catch a glimpse of the game and find out the latest score. After all, my team needed me!

I nostalgically remember David Wells’ perfect game, and how, to my dismay, he was later traded to the Toronto Blue Jays. I was so upset over the trade; I couldn’t contain myself from writing a letter to Brian Cashman, the GM for the Yankees. As expected, I never received a response; however, I was proud of myself for sending the letter regardless.

Admittedly, I strayed from baseball for almost the entire 2000 season, until now, the World Series. Although I had still had warm thoughts of the team, and wished them the best, I never watched any games. I didn’t do this on purpose; instead, I simply became very busy in my personal life. I kept promising myself I’d watch the "next" game. I told myself that tale so many times; my nose must have grown a foot!

I finally realized that having a hectic schedule is no excuse for shutting out something that makes me happy. As I put the rest of my life on hold and made time to sit back and enjoy the World Series, I feel a sense of being reunited with an old friend; one I’ve missed and don’t want to lose sight of again. Win or lose, there’s something about those Yankees I gotta love. Maybe it’s all the magical history they possess, or, the way they always seem to come through like "Rambo" and get the job done. Perhaps it’s those pinstripes. I suppose it’s a combination of all of the above that makes them so special in my eyes. Whatever it is, I’ll always say this: LET’S GO YANKEES!