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There is no matchup a Met fan could conjour that could cause more angst, more heartache, than a meeting between the Philadelphia Phillies and the New York Yankees in the World Series. This is the day we were praying against, hoping we would be answered by the Almighty just this one time. But we stumbled across one incontrovertible truth last night.

Even God likes to laugh at the Met fan too.

We're in a tough spot, Met fans. Especially those of us living in New York right now. Because no matter where we look or who we hear, we're getting it. From the Yankee fan. From the Philly fan. So what do we do? Do we have a horse in this race? Or better yet, should we have a horse in this race? The answer to these questions, most unfortunately, is yes.

I'm a baseball fan first and foremost, and as die hard a Met fan as you will ever meet. I don't have illusions of grandeur. I know this team has choked hard. Epic failure is now an expectation of the Met fan each April when the excitement generates, when the pitchers and catchers report. We know what's coming. We just didn't expect this.

I was in highschool when the Yankees went on their majestic run of the late 1990's. Each year when the parade (inevitably) was put on through the Canyon of Heroes, I chose to stay back at school rather than cut class and attend. What was amusing was that the school didn't even care. I could have gone.

But I'm no bandwagon fan. Never have been. Never will be.

But this week I'm confronted with a reality I wasn't ready for. And I have to pick a side. It's like Alien Vs. Predator. Do I really have to root for one of these guys to win? Because as we all know, they are going to consume the Earth in evil either way once one of them wins.

And for the foreseeable future, until this nightmare ends, I have to embrace the New York Yankees. The pure stench of Philadelphia stings my nostrils like a football stadium bathroom plastered with poo. Their players, while admirable, enjoy watching the Mets fail. And enjoy it even more when they benefit directly. Their players called out the Mets directly - even individually - at their parade. Their pitcher went on the NY airwaves and called the Mets chokers outright.

No, Cole Hamels wasn't wrong. But he did twist the knife. And it's that that has force my hand here. Come Wednesday, I have to cheer for the Yankees. I will do so publicly and with no inhibitions. It's that time. And I encourage Met fans, whomever you are, to do the same. It will be harder for those of you much older than I, as the Yankees have been the thorn in your side far longer.

But I've seen a Yankee dynasty unfold before my very own eyes. I've seen the Yankees beat the Mets in the biggest series of all. I've seen it all, practically. And this decision does not come easy.

But this is about sticking with your home town, no matter how hard the Yankee fan will mock me, ridicule me, and so on. Because it's already started. But I have to ignore it. Because it's not about them. It's not about me.

It's about beating that city. I can not see a Phillies repeat. It's not something I could ever, or should be expected to, live down.

Let's Go Yankees. Even though it took me 3 minutes to write that phrase.