Country Boy Meets City Girl, Says the Wrong Thing and Survives

Here is a very simple but powerful story.

I'm at a gas station filling up my car.  The service here is impeccable.  Windows are wiped.  I'm given a wet hand cloth to clean my dashboard.  They ask if I have trash.  (I do.  Who doesn't?)  As the young station attendant comes back over to my window he says, "You came all the way from New York?"

Huh?

And then I get it.  He saw my Boston Red Sox magnet on the back of my car, there to cover up a dent from the time I backed into a pole that popped up out of nowhere.  Oh, dear man, if you had said this in Boston you would be so dead. 

I must have paused a few seconds too long, because this young thing continues, "You know.  The Red Sox."  I exhale.  Be gentle. 

"The Red Sox are from Boston," I say trying not to show how irked I am.  "New York..." and as I trail off, he gets it.  "Yankees!"  I sigh.  "Yes, it's the New York Yankees.  In Boston, we're the Boston Red Sox.  I'm from Boston."

He shows no remorse for this catastrophic mistake, so I must correct him.  Again, gently.

"The Red Sox and the Yankees are rivals.  Arch enemies.  We hate each other."  Tactfully said, and I'm proud, especially as I gauge his response.
"Oh!"  I know he got it.  Do not imply, insinuate, or mistake the Red Sox belonging to New York City.
"Sorry," he says, and I contemplate whether I should let this go or needle him more, lest he make this same mistake to someone who will actually beat him for it.  I decide he's remorseful enough to not confuse the two cities and their teams.
"Matsuzaka, right?"  The young man is trying to be jovial, polite, chatty.
"Yes, Matsuzaka," I say back.  "But, he left.  Or rather, we got rid of him."  I'm speaking on behalf of the Red Sox here, the collective "we."
"Oh," and the man is surprised.  "I didn't know that."  Then nodding, "He got old."  I look down to my steering wheel to hide my grin, and agree with him.
"Yes, he got old."  What is Matsuzaka?  Mid-thirties?  Old for a pitcher, certainly.

And so you have it.  Confusion over which team belongs to which city (or vice versa, as the case may be) jump-started a nice little conversation with a complete stranger who will definitely not forget me next time I pull into his gas station, and will most definitely not make that same mistake again.