There'll be cops and firemen with Yankee insignia on their uniforms and helmets cheering gratefully with their children and talking about their lost brothers who loved the Yanks. (Yes, that will bring tears to my eyes, too.) Jeter will don a fire helmet saying “This one’s for the department” and donate his salary to the cause. (It's a good idea.) The final feel-good moment of Giuliani's long, mostly hateful regime. I'll look on silently puking with a pang of guilt from the smiling faces of the newly fatherless children meeting the players. No, better to watch a movie instead.
I can feel good for those fans who, having lost a great deal, need a diversion from the pain of Sept. 11th. Even if they are Yankee fans. But the smirking condescension will take on a patriotic flag-waving element that will be more annoying than ever. It'll be like a red, white and blue painted asshole.
Worst of all will be Roger Clemens declaring how much respect he has for all New Yorkers. (Except for Mike Piazza, for whom Clemens has through his actions shown nothing but immature aggressive contempt.) His carpet bagged rings and bean balls get privately flown back to Texas and forgetful Yankee fans—who last year claimed they hated his guts—now kiss his ass because they couldn't do it without him.
No, better to ignore it all than give them the finger and end up on the list of “Un-American Activities.”