SECTION: SPORTS; Pg. 77 BLEACHER CREATURE

LENGTH: 593 words

HEADLINE: FORMER FRIEND A FOE TO CREATURES OF HABIT

BYLINE: BY FILIP BONDY

BODY:
Remember how David Cone used to win those important games for the Yankees? How he brought intensity and poise to the mound every time he started? How he was one of only two pitchers (David Wells, our No. 1 grunge man, being the other) who would tip his cap to the Creatures during our trademark first-inning roll call?

Well, we don't recall any of that anymore in the bleachers, because Cone is basically dead to us. He is sleeping, and pitching, with the enemy. So we booed him hard from the right field stands last night, during his introduction. Then we booed him some more, until he reached his wimpy pitch count and left the game after five innings, without a single victory this season to show for his act of betrayal. "I don't care that he's David Cone," Anthony Griek was saying, after sneaking back into Section 39 with a Section 41 ticket. "I'm supposed to cheer? We're wrecking him. We're rocking him. He's a Red Sock. He's a roach out there, scurrying around."

Yes, Cone had recently undergone a Kafkaesque transformation, from Yankee lion to Boston roach, and we were forced to stomp all over him, verbally. Eventually, because of us, he became so rattled he threw a fat home-run pitch to Bernie and began to dissolve.

Serves him right. If you were out there last night, without shelter, you wouldn't blame us for our impatient, nasty frame of mind. An incessant, swirling mist soaked our pinstriped jerseys and brains, dampening our spirits and chants. Some audacious fan waved a red Boston flag in our faces, and we barely had the energy to target him with an obscenity.

We are fans of 26-time champions. Why must we endure such conditions, such tribulations? Why should we tolerate such a traitor as Cone? Why would we even consider cheering this guy?

"I have good memories of my second-grade girlfriend, too," Tom Brown said. "She's gone, though. You move on. It's got to be, 'What have you done for me lately?' And Cone hasn't done anything."

It is one thing to be traded against your will to the Blue Jays, which is what happened to Wells. It is quite another to enlist voluntarily in the Massachusetts militia.

Cone's act of sedition got us to thinking about him, about his suspect background. We realize now that the guy was a Met near the start of his career, and that he is likely to retire in Boston. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

"He was a hero," Mr. Mango lamented.

Mr. Mango knows about real heroism, about loyalty. He met his fiance in Detroit during a Yankee game, love at first sight. They knew they were meant for each other the moment they spotted each other's Yankee tattoos.

Unlike Cone, Yankee tattoos don't change teams.

It was edifying for Mr. Mango to watch Cone give up the two-run home run. Only a few of us, the ones turning soft and mushy inside, suffered mixed feelings.

"I don't know if there's much to forgive the guy," Steve Krauss blasphemized. "Players change uniforms. It's good theater, having him back here with Boston. I don't think a standing ovation is in order, but maybe a few claps."

A few claps? Another Creature, who thought he knew Krauss, looked at him as if he were crazy.

Krauss was unapologetic. "Maybe my mind is widening," he said.

If he keeps growing like this, a permanent exile may be in order. It might be time for Krauss to think about finding himself another section. Maybe Section 41. Maybe even the box seats.

They are fairer, more tolerant, in the box seats. They didn't hold a court martial last night for No. 36, like we did.

E-mail: fjbondy@netscape.net

GRAPHIC: KEITH TORRIE DAILY NEWS A STEP DOWN Yankee fans cheer David Cone at beginning of game, but some razz him as he leaves game after five solid innings.

LOAD-DATE: May 24, 2001