It's not easy trying to write or edit stories in the newsroom of The Harvard Crimson. Just tonight, for example, I had to listen to M. Douglas O'Malley '01 and Mark J. Ambinder '01 (as the news editors like to refer to people) quibble about who was going to win the World Series.

Doug insisted it would be the Mets while Mark, a long-spoiled Yankees' fan, offered to buy Doug a Guinness last night--the last chance for the Mets to celebrate before losing to the Yankees.

With a large portion of the sports board--and the news board, for that matter--hailing from New York City, or the greater Tri-State Area, or claiming that someone from their family is from Manhattan, all I hear about is the Mets and the Yankees. Well, enough is enough.

I don't blame my Big Apple counterparts for gloating about the upcoming New York-New York World Series (hey, even Frank Sinatra couldn't have put it better). I quietly retired my Bay Area paraphernalia as the Mets dramatically eliminated the Giants with two extra-inning victories and the Yankees outlasted the A's in five games. But, on the verge of seven straight games between the Mets and the Yankees, it's time to put my foot down.

This is not a real Subway Series.

There were 12 real Subway Series between 1922 and 1956. There could be another one in the future, but not this year. Not with these Mets and these Yankees.

This goes beyond the mere fact that the New York Giants and Brooklyn Dodgers have been dissolved into one blue-and-orange unit, playing on the outskirts of Queens beneath the deafening roar of airplanes leaving LaGuardia Airport. The 2000 Mets and Yankees are both very talented and playoff-savvy teams, I grant you, but neither of them actually belongs to the City of New York.

Let's start with the Yankees, winners of 25 world championships and perennial spoilers of any excitement in the postseason. The Bronx juggernaut of the 21st century has won three of the last four World Series, but not way the Yankees used to.