Okay, here's the story. Yes, I grew up a Phillies fan. I have never hid that fact from anyone during my time covering the Yankees (nine years and counting). But now the Schmidt has hit the FAN. The Phillies and Yankees are playing in the World Series. My worlds are colliding!

Before all of you Yankee fans come out and accuse me of somehow tipping the scales and sabotaging your team over the next week, let's explain how all this really happened.

My father moved from India to the US in the early 1960's, settling in Philadelphia to attend the University of Pennsylvania. It's there where he became a baseball fan and a Phillies fan. Every once in a while he still breaks out the words to the 1964 Phillies fight song ("Go Phillies go all the waaaaaaay…"). I was born in 1970 and raised in Middletown, PA, outside of Harrisburg about 100 miles west of Philadelphia.

As a kid, I basked in the glory of what until the last two years was known as the Golden Era of Phillies baseball. From 1976 to 1983 the Phillies appeared in the postseason six times, winning the World Series in 1980, their first title in 98 years of baseball. I grew up watching Steve Carlton, Mike Schmidt, Greg Luzinski, Larry Bowa, Tug McGraw, Garry Maddox, and all the rest. I collected their baseball cards, I copied their batting stances in whiffle ball, I bowed to their very existence. That's what young boys do with their baseball heroes, right?

I was 10 years old when the Phillies won the World Series in '80. I stayed up till 11:29pm on that Tuesday night, a school night, jumping for joy when Tugger struck out Willie Wilson for the final out. I was in the basement watching on the color TV we purchased just two years earlier, my mom on the couch next to me, my dad already in bed listening on the radio. I still remember the feeling a 10-year old had waking up the next morning and going to school with one thought on his mind-my team just won the World Series!

Every night my baseball teachers were Harry Kalas, Richie Ashburn, Andy Musser, and Chris Wheeler-the four stalwart voices of Phillies baseball. I listened to them year after year, to the point where in my early teens I decided I had to do something like that for a living. I pursued that goal through high school and on to college.

After my junior year at Penn State (no, not Penn…Penn State!) I interned at WFAN. Two years later they were nice enough to bring me back as a producer and it was just in time to watch the 1993 Phillies go to the World Series. I wasn't hiding anything. I wore my allegiance proudly on my sleeve. More accurately I wore it on my head, wearing the same Phillies hat to work every night.

It was still a great time to be a fan. I was 23, booking people like Tug McGraw and Larry Bowa on FAN's talk shows. Mike & The Mad Dog brought me back a program from the World Series, Suzyn Waldman brought me back a press pin, and Joe Carter brought me back to reality. The Phillies lost to the Blue Jays. Yes, it still bugs me.

I spent the next seven years working in the WFAN Newsroom (with a brief pit stop at WIP in Philly), moving up to the update chair by 2000. When Suzyn came off the Yankee beat at the end of the 2000 season after more than a decade filling that role for the radio station, I told my bosses Mark Chernoff and Eric Spitz that I wanted the job.

My roots were built following the Phillies, but above that I was a baseball fan. I didn't care what team I was following, I had a chance to cover baseball day in and day out. I had lived for it since I was a kid anyway, so what did it matter what team I'd be following? Just send me to the ballpark each day. What could be better than that?

Well, I got the job, and starting in 2001 I became WFAN's Yankees beat reporter (Yes, conspiracy theorists, I know they haven't won the World Series since I took over. Give it a rest already!). I was there when Luis Gonzales ended the dynasty, I was there when Aaron Boone kept the Curse alive, and I was there when Dave Roberts, David Ortiz, and Johnny Damon ended it a year later. I was there for Jeter and Bernie and Mariano. And I was there when CC and A-Rod brought home the pennant last week.

I have covered the Yankees for nine years, breathed it every day for nine years, lived it every day for nine years. I didn't become a Yankee fan. I just did my job and tried to present the Yankees on WFAN as fair and as reasonable and as intelligently as I could. My job wasn't to root for the Yankees. My job was to cover the Yankees.

At the same time, I lost the ability to watch Phillies games on any regular basis. Sure I'd see them a few times in spring training, and maybe on national TV games. But the connection with the players on a daily basis was gone. There was a time in my life I knew every September call-up in a Phillies uniform (Fred Tolliver, anyone?). But now I barely knew the starting lineup. The passion that flows with watching your team every single day was interrupted. I was still enjoying watching baseball every day. It just had a different meaning to it.

In 2008, something special happened for me. The Yankees didn't make the postseason and that was hard on Yankee fans. But the Phillies did make the postseason and seeing as I had no other October obligations, I took the opportunity that I felt might never come again. I went to see the Phillies in the playoffs.

I took Mom and Dad to their first ever playoff game and watched them wave towels around after Shane Victorino's grand slam against the Brewers (sorry, CC). I took old high school and college buddies to the World Series and watched the Phillies unfurl a championship banner for only the second time in 125 years. I wasn't all that connected to the players, in fact I probably couldn't have picked Eric Bruntlett and Carlos Ruiz out of a police lineup. But as Jerry Seinfeld said, you end up rooting for the laundry, and I watched the guys wearing red pinstripes win a World Series.

Fun? Absolutely. All that meaningful? Not really. I cheered, but in my heart it didn't feel anything like 1980 or even 1993. Honestly, I remember looking around and getting so much more enjoyment out of watching the fans around me celebrate. They still had the passion. They still had the heartache. They still loved their team and their players. I enjoyed the moment, but it just wasn't my team.

I'm 39 years old and have worked professionally in New York for 16 years now, nearly a decade spent covering the Yankees. I love watching baseball and I love talking about baseball. I just don't root with my heart for a team to win it all anymore. I try to do my job the best I can. Sure, I root for certain players, guys who I've gotten to know and wish them success because they deserve it. I actually went around congratulating several members of the Yankees and their staff after the pennant clincher last week. I know how hard these guys work because I see it every day. I appreciated the effort and recognized them for it. I didn't spray champagne on them. I just shook their hands and said, "Congratulations."

What's going to happen when I sit down to watch the Phillies and the Yankees play in the World Series? Well, I'm sure I'll have my moments seeing the guys in the red hats running around the bases. And maybe I'll smile a little when I see a big home run by Ryan Howard. But root, root, root for the hometown team? I can't say that's going to happen. I cover baseball in New York and I'm happy to do it. I'll root for great baseball games and fantastic finishes. And I'll talk to you all about it on the radio the next day, no matter who wins or loses.

Now…if it were ever possible for the Yankees to play Penn State in anything, then we'd have real issues.

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Sweeny