Take this as a bemused confession.

I grew up some 90 miles west of Fenway Park and have always been a Boston Red Sox fan. I saw my first major league game at Fenway -- it was his last year of playing, and Ted Williams hit a solo homer. Heck, even my mother was a Red Sox fan. She was convinced that Ted hit that homer just for her. I'm sure she would have caught it, too, but our seats weren't in the outfield.

If you live (or ever lived) in New England, you are either a Red Sox fan or a New York Yankees fan. Never both. Switches are only permitted over dead bodies. Just doesn't happen.

My name is Larry, and I rooted for the Yankees this year.

I have lived near other teams before I became an Adoptive Kansan. I followed the Cincinnati Reds when I lived down the road from Riverfront Stadium. That was easy to do: It was the era of the Big Red Machine. That team rocked! Sparky Anderson managed one of the best teams ever in baseball. Between 1970 and 1976, they won four National League pennants, two World Series back to back.

Players like Johnny Bench (before he shilled for spray paint with the line "No runs, No drips, No errors"), Pete Rose (well before his fall from grace), Joe Morgan, Tony Perez, Davy Concepcion; George Foster, Ken Griffey Sr. and more. Center fielder Cesar Geronimo won four Gold Gloves (before he was traded to the K.C. Royals), and when he came up to bat, the public address announcer led tens of thousands in the stands shouting: "Geronimo!" It may not have been politically correct, but it was just plain fun.

One Sunday, I was taking a walk in downtown Cincinnati before a game and saw George Foster walking to work. It was that kind of an era, and that kind of a ball club.

The antipathy between the Red Sox and Yankees dates to 1919. George Herman "Babe" Ruth had played for the Red Sox for five seasons and had become a major hitter. But his relations with team owner Harry Frazee were shaky, partly because of the Babe's temper. After the 1919 season, Frazee sold Ruth's contract to the Yankees for $200,000. Legend has it that Frazee needed the money to mount the Broadway musical "No, No, Nanette" but that show didn't open until 1925. Thus began the Curse of the Bambino.

From 1920 through 2003, the Yankees won 26 World Championships and 39 league pennants. During the same time, the Red Sox only won four pennants, and lost all four series, four games to three, each time. Close, but no cigar. They were the runners-up to the Yankees in 12 seasons, including every one of the six years between 1998 and 2003. The Yankees had money, and bought or grew superb players. But Boston fans, myself included, had faith.

Faith in players like Ted Williams, Carl Yastrzemski, Carlton Fisk, Nomar Garciaparra, Pedro Martinez and Roger Clemens. Faith destined to turn into despair, year after year. Fans tried many tricks to dispel the Curse of the Babe: radio station contests, candle-light vigils, and more. One nouveau-rich entrepreneur bought the contract document that sold Ruth to the Yankees and printed up thousands of replicas; I treasure my copy. Nothing worked, until Oct. 27, 2004, when the Red Sox swept the Cardinals to win their first World Championship in 86 years. Around that time, I was flabbergasted to read that the Red Sox had the highest payroll in Major League Baseball. That dubious honor usually belonged to the Yankees.

Through all of this, I remained a steadfast Red Sox fan, and continued to hate the Yankees. I'd root for any other team in either league.

The Red Sox fell apart in the playoffs this year, truly losing, fair and square, to the Twins. I certainly knew that scenario. Then a funny thing happened at our house. I found myself rooting for the Yankees! Even our grey tiger cat appears to wear Yankee pinstripes. In another pre-Kansas time, I lived near Philadelphia, and would go to the Vet to see the Phillies. But I never became much of a fan, except for their mascot. The Phillie Phanatic is second only to the famous San Diego Chicken as a piece of ballpark comedy. As a baseball team, the Phillies just don't turn me on.

As Yankee manager Joe Girardi watched Mariano Rivera pitch the final out to win last night, I began to understand. The joy of the game showed on Girardi's face with the subtlety that is baseball.

I'm glad I rooted for the Yankees. This time. This aberration is unlikely to happen again -- I'll consider treatment options before Opening Day 2010. But the Yankees played mighty fine baseball!

Larry Holden is a communications consultant in Hays, who has come to believe that "Yankee" is not the suffix to the word "Damn."