What does Norman Chad have against me and my friends here?

In this Washington Post column (sorry, reg. required), sent to me by Will, Chad breaks down who he'll support in the Series based on each team's fans.

Yankees and Red Sox fans. The only reason I prefer the pinstripes devotees is that they are easily identifiable: loud, obnoxious, pushy, opinionated, never wrong -- and always sitting next to you no matter what saloon you're in. At least you can spot the Derek Jeter idolatry and Jersey beer belly from five bar stools away.

Red Sox fans are trickier. They lay low, lull you into a false sense of security, then just when you are most relaxed -- bang! -- it's the woe-is-me-and-the-curse-of-

the-Bambino-and-don't-get-me-
started-on-Bill-Buckner-and

-sure-
now-we've-got-our-first-
World-Series-title-since-1918-
but-we're-still-20-championships-
behind-the-Bronx-Bombers routine.

It takes a nickel to get a Red Sox fan started and maybe 50 bucks to shut him up.

A common disclaimer among a fewof my associates is that they'd root for the team if it weren't for the dickhead fans. It's irrational and silly, because there are a lot more of us who have been afflicted with love of the Red Sox since birth than there are Northeastern frat boys from San Diego who just adopt them, but I can understand deriding a group after observing a few stand-outs. I feel the same way about pink Yankees hat-wearing chickies who show up at a Sox-Yanks game in the Bronx on a date.

Being too literary and condescending? This is a new charge. And one that mostly annoys, because like many Red Sox fans, I'd rather be left alone to worry and tear at my clothing in peace. I have long felt that, because the Red Sox had a long World Series drought, we fans consoled ourselves with having interesting, exciting (even impossible) seasons. It's ultimately about winning (especially now that we have a taste for it), but a little less than you'd think. We want to retell the games, the weird moments when luck intervened or broke us down. You remember where you were and who you were with when Fisk-Buckner-Dent-Boone happened.

Of course, I don't see how it is much less obnoxious to have a knee-jerk sense of entitlement because you have the best mercenaries that money can buy than it is to have a thoughtful, connection to a really old team who plays in a beautiful relic of a park in a really old town. The Yankees and Yankees fans seem to think that they get to win because they always win and that’s the natural order of things (part and parcel of New York City’s center of the universe complex).

Too much yarnin' about the Red Sox might irritate listeners outside of Portsmouth, Lynn, Burlington, and Providence. But I think this column is a cheap shot, and it reeks of a green monster that does not reside in the Fens. Perhaps Norm wishes HIS column could spawn a book much like Bill Simmons' did.... ??? Sorry dude. You're going to have to get a bit more literary... Good luck with that.

images of fellow faithful from boston.com