Behind Enemy Lines: Confessions of a New York Sports Fan Living in Boston

There are very few things in life that piss me off more than Boston sports fans: I’m not a big fan of Cancer, and I truly loathe mayonnaise, I also have a very low tolerance for Nazis and terrorists. Next on my list come Boston sports fans. You have the pink-hat wearing, college transplant Red Sox “fans” who couldn’t name a player on the roster before their freshman year, the new Celtics fans who were nothing but a bad idea during the “glory years” of Bird, Mchale, Parish and co., and even worse the bandwagon Patriots fans who abandoned their team during the mid to late 1990’s, so much so that there were serious talks of relocating the team to such fine destinations like Orlando.
In order to not sound bitter, I will concede that I do enjoy going to college in Boston, if only for the fact that it’s made me love New York even more. Am I biased? Certainly. Am I elitist? I would say so. Do I care what you think? Not at all… we’re from New York baby, we don’t give a damn what you think because we all know deep down what the best city in the world is, to touch on the old cliché, “so nice they named it twice.”
For my inaugural blog, I will point out a few disparities between Boston and New York, both sports related and otherwise, that will likely sway most readers in the favor of New York:

1. Happy Hour does not exist in Boston. That’s right; try asking for Happy Hour at a Boston bar, they’ll look at you like you’re a mutated George Steinbrenner coming to snatch their Red Sox hats. Cheer up Boston!

2. As much history as there is at Fenway Park... the place is still a dump. Unless you're dropping hundreds of dollars for good seats, you'll be relegated to the bleachers or even worse the "grandstands" - where the wood benches are sticky with beer, there is less leg room than a coach ticket on Delta and if you're unlucky enough to get an "obstructed view" ticket you'll be straining your neck for three hours trying to look around the giant metal poles that block half the field.

Awesome seats!! I'm so glad I spent $50 on this ticket and now have to drink away my misery with $7 beers all game! Great day at the ballpark.

2. The “public transportation” service known as the T stops running at 12:30, is an antiquated, notoriously slow and over-crowded metal coffin, and takes about an hour to go the equivalent of 10 stops on a NY subway. Not to mention the older lines run above ground and cause the Boston roads to function like Siberian highways:
Here's a fabulous shot of the overcrowded green line:



3. The cab drivers don’t know where they are going. Unless it is a major landmark, the majority of Boston cab drivers will ask you detailed directions to your destination and then proceed to yell at you if you don’t know how to get there. This is unacceptable; imagine if a cab driver in New York said he didn’t know how to get to a street? Can anyone picture this happening? Absolutely not.

4. As if it’s not bad enough that the driver’s don’t know where they’re going, try being stuck in the back of a Boston cab, which don’t even have enough legroom for a leprechaun, let alone my 6’5” frame.

I leave you with a quote from former mayor John Lindsay: “Not only is New York the nation's melting pot, it is also the casserole, the chafing dish and the charcoal grill.”
- Ian