Pixie Dust and Pinstripes

So fairies are the new princesses in the wonderful world of Disney. I just finished watching the film “Tinker Bell” with my 3-year-old, and I also saw her eyes light up when she received a Tinker Bell sweatshirt, children’s book and T-shirt for Christmas. Perhaps Disney has finally milked all it could out of the “Princess” phenomenon that has connected Snow White, Cinderella, Belle, Ariel and friends for the past decade, and must now turn to little creatures who create magic with their pixie dust.

But let’s face it: Princess and fairy tales are the kinds of stories we were raised to love. Is it part of our genetic DNA or is it learned behavior that causes so many of us to seek out the happily ever after? Whatever the cause, it is what we root for. Whether it’s the girl with the glass slipper or the untested rookie pitcher, we all seem to find ourselves pulling for the underdog.

Last year, I watched the Tampa Bay Rays shock the baseball world for six months, winning game after game with a team full of young, talented and unseasoned kids. These players soared all the way to Game Seven of the American League Championship Series. And then, when the Boston Red Sox had the Rays’ backs fully against the wall, Tampa Bay even brought out a prince of its own – take away the “N” and you’ve got his name, David Price. This rookie phenom, with just a few innings of major league ball under his belt, blew away the mighty Red Sox hitters and led his new Rays teammates to the World Series.

It was quite a story, and it’s one that baseball fans will surely remember for some time. But fascinating as I found the Rays’ rise, I remain very much a New York Yankees fan. I like the fairy tale stories, but when the 2009 season begins I will be rooting for the Disney Corp. of baseball. I’m a die-hard fan of a multimedia conglomerate. Yay! I know, there’s no real charm to that. As the new stadium opens, and many of us are boxed out of affording tickets, it seems illogical to be cheering for such a business.

Rooting for the Rays would make more sense if you’re looking for some pixie dust in your sports appetite. But if you’re honest with yourself, you know that entertainment, at its best, invokes a connection to the dreams and imaginations of our childhood. I can go on and on about the Yankees being a might giant – an Evil Stepmother, if you will – but it doesn’t change the fact that I grew up idolizing the players on this team. It doesn’t change the fact that the sight of those pinstripes reminds me of my own youthful innocence and joy, as I made believe I was Graig Nettles at the plate or Ron Guidry on the mound.

Say what you want about the media giants, but they know what they’re doing. A 20-year-old can take a college class in economics and turn all cynical on the might and manipulation of Disney. But slip “The Lion King” into a VCR player, and that 20-year-old turns to mush, singing “Hakuna Matata” with sheer joy.

So bring on the fairies. And the new pinstriped millionaires. I’ve got my critical business eye trained on the Yankees. But I’ve also got the wide-eyed wonder. And as far as I can tell, the latter isn’t going away.