The Yankees Do Not S__K. And Yes, I'm the Judge of That.

“YANKEES SUCK!”  --the “go to” chant of drunk/confused fans at Fenway Park in Boston

Actually, the Yankees don’t.

It was a warm August night, 2003, a year before the Boston Red Sox finally broke ‘the curse’ ending 86 years of sports futility. From 1918 to 2004, the Sox either missed baseball’s World Series or, when they did make it, they always lost. In 1946, 1967, 1975 and 1986. Lost in heart breaking fashion, like a simple ground ball dribbling through the legs of a befuddled first baseman for a game changing hit. The curse was supposedly placed on the Sox by the baseball gods for trading Babe Ruth in 1919 to their much and still despised rivals, the New York Yankees.     

That curse haunted Bosox fans for years who hated and still are known to hate those damn Yankees, our “enemy” who plays in the equally reviled Yankee Stadium, aka the house that Ruth built, some 200 miles to the south and west of Boston.  From the nineteen eighties on, the fan chant that dominated at Fenway Park, especially when the men in pinstripes were in town, was this inelegant two-word declaration.

“YANKEES SUCK!”

Not very subtle and certainly it crosses the line of polite language, even at the game. Back to that humid summer evening nineteen years ago. I walked out of Fenway after a Red Sox win over a now forgotten team, in a huge crowd of fans, a good majority drunk. And I don’t know, maybe to pass the time or claim his place as the Alpha dog in the crowd or just to do what inebriated twenty-something men do, a guy behind me started the chant: “YANKEES SUCK! YANKEES SUCK!”

I turned to him and clearly and dispassionately rebutted his argument and said, “Actually the Yankees are pretty good. Twenty-six world championships and counting.” The guy lunged toward me, but I was cold sober, and dodged him. Me and my friend Kevin moved away from this sadly mistaken young man and escaped unscathed.

And then that kid started up his chant again. Oh well.

I still believe what I said about the Yankees then. They don’t…s__k. And this year the team and especially one of their players redeemed my baseball fandom this summer, redeemed baseball for me and a lot of folks. The Sox have been awful in 2022, as bad as the Yankees have been good. As the season ends, the Sox are in last place, 23 games behind the first place Yankees.  

The Yankees have been carried on the back of someone who is chasing history. This season their right fielder Aaron Judge hit 62 home runs, surpassing fellow Yankee Roger Maris’s 1961 record of 61. Most ever in the American League. It’s been fun each day to turn to the sports pages or highlights online, to see if Judge was close to breaking the record and achieving the seemingly impossible.

On Wednesday of this week, he did just that, swatting a 391-foot home run for number 62.  That number really matters to nerdy fans like me, because while there are others who’ve surpassed 62, those three players are widely recognized as steroid users. Cheaters. Imbibers of now banned substances.

But Judge played straight by the rules and throughout his summer long crusade he carried himself with authentic humility, quiet resolve and gracious thanks to the fans. Even when he slumped a bit lately (including against the Sox) and took almost two weeks to hit numbers 61 and 62, he was unflappable. No tantrums. No flip remarks to the press. Just getting up to bat each game and trying his best.

I know it’s just a baseball game and statistic. I know baseball has been supplanted by football and basketball as American’s true pastime. I know at my age I’m not supposed to get all starry eyed about an athlete, especially one who plays for the nemesis of my home team.

But still, baseball with its seasonal rhythms, its traditions, and its place in my life for as long as I can remember—still it thrills me. Especially when someone like Judge comes along and does his job so well, and now so much better than almost everyone else who has ever played the game.

The Yankees—yes, to me they are still the Evil Empire and they have far too often broken my heart, and I won’t ever wear a Yankees cap but there is no denying this truth. They do not, well, you know…the “s” word. 

And Aaron Judge: he is true a champion. I’m glad I had some baseball fun this summer, even if it was with the “wrong” team. The Sox?

We’ll just have to wait ‘til next year.

The Reverend John F. Hudson is Senior Pastor of the Pilgrim Church, United Church of Christ, in Sherborn, Massachusetts (pilgrimsherborn.org). He blogs at sherbornpastor.blogspot.com and is a resident scholar at the Collegeville Institute at Saint John’s University in Collegeville, Minnesota. For twenty-five years he was a columnist whose essays appeared in newspapers throughout Massachusetts and Rhode Island. He has served churches in New England since 1989. For comments, please be in touch: pastorjohn@pilgrimsherborn.org.