For the second time this postseason, the Red Sox celebrated a series victory by playing Frank Sinatra’s New York, New York in the visiting clubhouse. The first time it made sense as they were in the Bronx and had vanquished the hated Yanks. Last night it made less sense because they had defeated the Los Angeles Dodgers.
For the record, I still think this shouldn’t really be A THING, but understand how seriously people take any sign of disrespect. And know that if Ol’ Blue Eyes was still around, he’d take you down a peg for using his beautiful ode to New York City as troll fodder.
Residents of the five boroughs should actually feel pride this morning in the secure knowledge that their neighbors to the north are forced to appropriate NYC culture because they don’t have any good, overtly Boston songs of their own.
Now, you’re probably saying, “what about Dropkick Murphys and their shouty Shipping Up to Boston diddy?”
Well, I said good. Fun fact about this song: it’s impossible to sing along to without developing an anger management problem by the time it ends. It’s certainly not in the same ballpark as Sinatra’s song, which features lyrics everyone knows and have resonated for decades.
The easy-listening version of Boston anthems probably belongs to Augustana.
Other options include “Please Come to Boston” except it’s about someone not wanting to go to Boston, anything by the band Boston, but that’s sort of a stretch and some James Taylor shoutouts beloved by Chris Berman. So you can see the problem plainly by now.
Congratulations to the Red Sox for bringing yet another championship to the city of Boston. Congratulations to New York for remaining the best city in the world.