SECTION: Sports; Pg. 72

LENGTH: 556 words

HEADLINE: FOR BLUE TWO, HARD TO BRUSH OFF

BYLINE: BY FILIP BONDY

BODY:


THE LETTER "A," we creatures learned early in our American literature classes, is something to be worn as a designation of societal disgrace. It is a symbol of scorn, of sin, of yet another bad Demi Moore movie.

So when an entire baseball team shows up for the World Series in the Bronx wearing "A" on their heads, and when said team starts beating the heck out of us, we know what to chant at them. And it isn't, "Adulteress."

We got a little crazy last night in the bleachers. We cursed and we spat and we squabbled.

Nobody likes to take these sort of beatings on national television, surrounded by all this bunting. It does bad things to the mood, to the mind.

The dark side of the bleacher creature is not a pretty thing to behold. When pushed into a corner, we eat our young.

"If we were winning, we wouldn't be so vitriolic," explained Tom Brown from Manhattan, who had been the first creature waiting to get into the bleachers for Game 2.

Brown was upset, but rational. Others pushed the envelope, ripped it open.

"I don't know what these fans are thinking," Brown said when matters began to escalate out of control. "This is the World Series."

The bleachers broke out in fights early, fights in the middle, fights late. Fights over nothing except losing to these bozos from Atlanta.

A young Yankee fan dyed her hair blue and entered Section 37. Big mistake. She became a target for beer and batteries, and then security ushered her out of the stadium.

"I didn't do one thing wrong," she kept saying, crying outside the bleacher entrance on River Ave.

She was banished, along with another young woman. Exiled, for painting their hair blue.

Somebody had to be sacrificed.

It just happened to be the blue fans. Blame the victims. Blame everybody, especially the Braves.

We had nothing much against them before this October. The Braves had performed their swagger in different circles.

But now they were moving up fast on the hate list.

"Mets are No. 1. The Red Sox are No. 2. Mariners are No. 3," says George Chityat of Fort Lee, who was in charge of the official rankings.

"The Orioles hate us, but we beat up on them so much they're just a joke," Chityat says. "I have to put the Braves at No. 4 right now."

With a bullet.

There were plenty of reasons to hate the Braves. I had my own. I spent 35 days this year covering Olympic events in their humid, overrated city.

I won't return, unless ordered by a sadistic editor.

"They consider their city the equal of ours, when Atlanta shouldn't even be in the same sentence as New York," said Sam Healy, of Katonah.

David Brown despised Jermaine Dye, the right fielder.

"Just because he's closest to us," the creature said.

Last night again, the chants grew nastier, along with the score. We came up with our own version of the Tomahawk Chop, nearly as offensive as the original.

"Compared to Atlanta, the Mets are starting to look good to me, or at least not so bad," said Sandra Molina, a 38-year-old Brooklynite who was in the bleachers with daughter and granddaughter.

"Maybe it's because I don't really think the Yanks are going to beat them," Molina said. "I have to be honest."

They locked the bleachers behind us after the game. Maybe for the last time this year.

Notes: Bleacher Creature

LOAD-DATE: October 22, 1996