I've never had a real problem with Liverpool. As a United fan, I'm supposed to hate the Reds. But I don't. I didn't grow up in Manchester, and I didn't come of age attending the matches between the two teams. Fights between the clubs' supporters, of legendary battles on the pitch, were things I only read about in magazines and newspapers. The rivalry was only as intense as the quality of my TV and cable feed back in the day.
Sure, I root against Liverpool when it plays United, and also pull for the Blues of Merseyside on derby day. But the venomous hatred for one team that comes from being raised a supporter of another team, well, I've never really felt that way when I watch United face off against Liverpool.
Baseball, though, is a different story. My first sporting memory is watching Bill White and Phil Rizzuto call New York Yankees games for the old WPIX in New York. Every Sunday, I'd hang out at my grandfather's house. He'd watch the games, downing a bottle of Bud for each inning (two if the Yankees had a bad one), while I'd play catch with my cousin. Graig Nettles, Dave Winfield, Ron Guidry, Willie Randolph and later Donnie Baseball -- these were my first childhood icons.
I share the one endearing trait that all Yankees fans have -- a hatred for the Boston Red Sox. This is not the space to rant about Red Sox Nation, about the crude (and stupid) Red Sox T-shirts I see every time I'm in Boston, or that loathsome hick team of 2004.
But now comes the news that the Red Sox's owners are about to buy Liverpool.
My disklike of Liverpool, my hatred of the Sox. Throw in a few pints on match day
Suffice to say, this changes everything.