Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

The regular baseball season is over, and the playoffs have begun. I don’t follow this religiously; but I do know that, in the beginning of the playoffs, eight teams are left and they are systematically eliminated until two remain. Hopefully, those two will not be playing the World Series with snow on the field.

I don’t know where we are in the elimination process, but Earl told me that tonight the Boston Red Sox are playing the New York Yankees. Earl is a fan of whatever team is playing the Yankees, so this seemed like a natural bet for me.

“Hey, Earl,” I said, “do you want to make a bet on who will win tonight’s game, the Boston Red Sox or the New York Yankees?”

He didn’t skip a beat. “I’m a fan of whoever is playing the Yankees,” he said.

So we shook hands to symbolize that the team that loses owes the other a dinner. If the Red Sox win, I take Earl to dinner on the weekend. If the Yankees win, well . . . you understand.

I know many people love to hate the New York Yankees, but I feel differently. Since 9/11, the city and the team have struggled with such important issues that I think the angst the rest of the country has regarding New York City’s smugness is out of step. We need to support, not deride. We need to encourage, not castigate. So if the Yankees win, I will be the first to order the most expensive item on the menu as a way of being counted.

If they lose, I’ll still order large in their honor.