I grew up in northern New Jersey where an older brother decided he would not be a Yankee fan, but be a Twins fan (I think because his first live baseball game was at Yankee Stadium against the Twins). We would both be up early in summer, and he’d be checking the standings in the newspaper and explaining things to me like what a “1/2 game behind” means—not at all obvious to ten-year old me. I followed along and then realized how much every game mattered: It was 1967 and even as a brand new fan, I was aware that I had stumbled into the still greatest pennant race in history.
Of course I was disappointed in the result, losing out to Boston on the last day of the season, but, yeah, I was hooked and have remained a long distance fan. (As for the brother, decades later he moved to New England and became a Red Sox fan who still cares for the Twins). He wears a David Ortiz jersey, so there’s not much I can say…