Your team's fans are the kind of single-toothed, liquor-soaked, foulmouthed vermin that real vermin cross the street to avoid.
My team's fans are fiercely loyal.
Your departing superstar sold out teammates, fans and the city that supported him for 20 years just to grab an easy ring.
My arriving superstar isn't afraid to chase his dreams.
Your owner is a silver-spoon billionaire who bought a championship just because he could.
My owner is part of the capitalist system that made this country great.
Your pitcher is a headhunter.
My pitcher controls the inside of the plate.
Your NBA coach was a weed-smoking hippie who does nothing more than roll the balls out every day to one of the greatest rosters in league history.
My NBA coach lets 'em play.