Hey fellow Rangers fan, have you heard the latest? It's seems we've ruined hockey again. Yeah. And we're trying to buy the championship. We are the sum total of every wrong with the NHL and the world in general. We are a complete disgrace to the coolest sport on ice and an embarrassment to all things good and holy embodied by the spirit of Lord Stanley's Silver Cup.

Blah blah blah.

Who'd have thought that signing two players that the Rangers desperately need, both of which have haunted the organization for years, would spell Armageddon for the NHL? At least that's how it's being played out around the league. Two excessive contracts, and they were excessive, and suddenly everyone outside the Tri-State area is crying foul, cursing the Rangers and their attitude of “we have the money, we have the fame, now give us your players.” New York is destroying the competitiveness of sports. New York is trying to put the small-market out of business. New York is ruining the game.

Again—blah blah blah.

Any argument about the fairness of NY’s business practices becomes little more than a semantic exercise around the word “fair” itself. Is following the rules set down by the NHL “fair”? Is free agency itself “fair”? Is capitalism “fair”? I don’t know. I’m just a Rangers fan. I barely know what the word “semantic” even means. Ideally I would hope that all the critics around the league, both professional and amateur, would realize the silliness of their arguments. After all, we’re talking about Bobby Holik and Darius Kasparaitis here. It’s not like the Rangers signed all four big-name goalies, just to make sure they won the ECHL title this season. It’s not like they signed Bill Guerin for $50 million and decided to keep him locked in a freezer to farm his body out for spare tendons and ligaments. The free-agent system, a system approved by the league and all it's players, was designed for this very purpose. This latest round of Ranger bashing is really just frustration at the soon-to-expire CBA, or frustration over free-agency in general. But it goes beyond that too. It reinforces one of the longest standing truisms in all of sports. It reaffirms one of the simple fundamental reasons why millions of individuals gather religiously in stadiums, bars, and rec rooms every night in colored garb to worship the impressive idols that represent their hometowns in athletic splendor.

People really just love to hate New York.

So what’s so wrong with a little hate?

Enemies are a part of life. Captain Ahab had Moby Dick. Sherlock Holmes had Doctor Moriarty. Luke had Darth. Springfield has Shelbyville. My Mom has Martha Stewart, my Dad has Rosie O’Donnell. Everyone hates something. And it isn't much of a stretch to focus all your negativity to an abstract concept or a misinformed stereotype either. Heck, I hate the LA Lakers. Can't stand 'em one bit. Yellow banana jerseys, Phil Jackson, Dyan Cannon--wretch, wretch, and (ugh) double wretch. Want to get on my bad side? Start one of those "Who's better: Kobe or Shaq?" debates. But that’s not all. I also hate Boston. Nomar, Pedro—I wish them nothing but the worst. Granted I don’t know them and to a certain degree I’m in complete awe of them, but from behind the comfort of my anonymous computer console, I’m taking a soldering iron to their bobblehead dolls and rubbing their baseball cards with eye of newt in hopes that they’ll get genital warts. And I’m not too fond of Atlanta either. Or Seattle. Or Philadelphia. Or Chicago. Etcetera etcetera.

And when any of these teams come to my town to face my team, I’ll be right there, giving them the old Theo Fleury salute.

Hate, or rather a rivalry born out of hate, is a great thing for sports. Hate packs arenas. Hate sells merchandise. Hate increases television revenues and concessions sales. Hate turns the average fan into an insult spewing, slander shouting, smack talking sports-junky that wants nothing more than to see their team beat someone to a bloody pulp in the same way that Rocky beat Ivan Drago. But even hate has its limits. Hate has no room for sympathy (see the Isles/Rangers rivalry, circa 1999). For hate, true hate, to function as a dynamic in drama, someone has to be the other-worldly superhuman seemingly unbeatable foe. Would Rocky be the same if he squared off against Jim J Bullock? Would “Hoosiers” be the same movie if Hickory High had Kobe and Shaq? Would “Bring It On” be the greatest movie ever if it only featured 90 minutes of teenage cheerleaders washing cars?

OK, that was a bad example.

The point is that in any worthwhile competition someone has to play the villain. Enter the New York Rangers—the best team that money can buy.

Hatred of the Rangers, universal hatred of the Rangers, can only benefit the league in the long run. Face it, NHL: you want our payroll at $70 million, you need our payroll at $70 million. If we—and yes I’m using the pronouns “we”, “our”, and “us”—kept a modest payroll, sacrificed competitiveness over development, and exhibited fiscal responsibility (even though we don’t have to), we’d be robbing the NHL of a fantastic marketing ploy. Is that a rationalization for the spending? Damn right. But to each and every detractor that we have, admit how much you love to see us fail. Admit that the last five years, watching us reduced to a joke, watching us sign the Kamensky’s and Quintal’s, watching us hire the Muckler’s and Low’s, watching us make every bad decision humanly possible in the NHL—admit that it hasn’t made every victory over us all the more sweeter. In short, admit that you love to hate us.

Because we love to be the guys you hate.

So kudos to all you critics of the New York Rangers. We are ruining the game. We are buying the Cup. Fill your arenas. Buy lots of beer. Wear your “NY sucks” t-shirts. Demand that your cable companies carry the games. Spend all your money. Maybe if you’re lucky you just might be like us someday. And you might save the NHL.

See you in October.

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