Cue the Dark Vader music...

It's official, I've gone over to the dark side. The minute David Ortiz's home run left the ballpark, I signed up for the Yankee bandwagon.

Don't worry, folks. It's only temporary. Very, very, very temporary. Like two-games-long temporary.

That's how long I'm hoping it will take the Yankees to oust the game, but clearly undermanned Minnesota Twins. It's got nothing to do with a dislike for the Twins, nor a disdain for the sympathetic darlings of baseball in Boston. I haven't been snorting or sniffing anything and I'm not a madman.

I'm just a baseball romantic with a soft spot for history... And I'm a glutton for punishment.

I foolishly rooted for the Yankees to beat Seattle in the 2000 ALCS, so that we could have the first Subway Series in 44 years. A tortured Mets fan, I truly believed my miracle men could pull off the greatest wonder of all: Beating the dynastic, turn-of-the-century Yanks in a World Series for the ages. Alas, I was misguided, and I sat slumped in the left field mezzanine as the Bronx Bullies celebrated their 26th World Series on Shea Stadium turf.

Four years later, I haven't learned my lesson. I find myself again pulling for the Evil Empire, with no clear reward on the other side of the darkness but a chance to see baseball history. I envision a Yankees-Red Sox ALCS like the one that teased, tortured, and tantalized us for seven scintillating games last October. I picture beanballs, brushbacks, heart-breaking losses, astounding comebacks, Rivera and Schilling dueling to the finish in Game 7. As a baseball fan, I find it so hard to resist that.

So if you don't catch me around the Island muttering "effing Yankees" for the next few days, you'll know why. I've traded in my light saber and white cape for James Earl Jones and the keys to the Death Star. (You've gotta admit, it's a powerful machine.)

But as soon as Jeter circles the bases with the winning run in Game 4, I'll be back to my usual self. I'll pull for history; only this time, I'll hope it's the Red Sox who make it, at the Yankees' considerable expense.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go take a shower. A long one.