Why I Change Baseball Teams

This was posted on my personal -rarely updated- blog www.isaburger.blogdrive.com right before the playoffs. I thought I shared it with you. While I was growing up in Caracas, Venezuela, my father would take my sister and me to have lunch at a restaurant; there we would enjoy a delicious meal as the television close to us broadcasted a local or international baseball game. If it was a local game we rooted for Los Leones de Caracas but if it was the Unites States during the playoffs, the Yankees was our team. My father lived for some years in New York City, so I can see why he loves the Yankees, but I hadn’t, so I was a Yankee fan out of tradition or simple sympathy towards my upbringing. Years later, I arrived to the United States, still a Yankee fan. My first USA home, for 4 college years, was New Orleans and unfortunately they don’t have a baseball team, otherwise, I would have probably set aside my tradition and begin supporting whatever team the Big Easy had. After college I moved to Miami because it was closer to home and there were more jobs than in Louisiana. In Miami, I went to a couple of baseball games, but I was still into the Yankees. Little by little I began to realize that if Miami was now my home, I should change teams and support my Marlins. The process of realization was too slow and never could I abandon the Yankees. I think I felt my father would not approve of my new choice, and also, for no reason I felt closer to New York than to Miami. Then, in 2003, I had to see the Yankees lose against the Marlins, and it wasn’t thaaat bad. I was invited to a World Series game by one of my father’s best friend. He had great seats, while his son and I were at the nose-bleed section, watching in awe, because it didn’t matter where we sat, as long as we were watching live, on location. It was game 4, and even while I was wearing my Yankees cap, I applauded when the opposing team won. I felt like crying, yes, but I guess I felt good about other people’s joy. I think that even though my team lost, someone else was happy about his or her victory and unselfishness seemed to me as a proof of great sportsmanship. Then, I realized that I was happy about the Marlins, not because of other people, but because 3 of the players were Venezuelan (Ughet Urbina, Alex Gonzalez and Miguel Cabrera). I was celebrating a country really. When they won the World Series, I was congratulating them in my head; it’s solidarity I guess. A year later, I was hired to work with a baseball player from Venezuela, 9 Time Gold Glove Winner, short-stop Omar Vizquel. We became great friends and immediately after, I saw myself wearing a #13 Cleveland Indians jersey. He would laugh and say, “aren’t you a Yankees fan?