Thursday, October 1, 2026
I’m sure that at some point in your life, someone has uttered an expression that you’d never heard or didn’t understand. There are many of these weird turns of phrase, but my favorite is, “What am I, chopped liver?” It may have ethnic overtones, but it has been used by countless comedians over the decades.
No one can pinpoint exactly when the chopped-liver inquiry was born, but it is said to have emanated from Jewish families in the 1930s. Its purpose was to make it clear to someone that just like chopped liver is a side dish at a dinner, nobody wants to be treated like a side dish in life. I heard the phrase for the first time at a family dinner, and then I heard the late, great comedian Jimmy Durante growl, “I ain’t chopped liver.”
I can think of a few people and institutions that I can apply the comparison to, and you’ll better understand how wonderfully it fits. Let’s start with the apparent attitudes of the owners of the Mets and Yankees toward the teams’ fans. There are no people more loyal to the cause of winning sports in New York than Yankees and Mets followers. We pack the teams’ parks throughout the season, pay ridiculous sums of money for tickets, food and souvenirs, and in the end, the Mets’ Steve Cohen and the Steinbrenners, who own the Yankees, treat us like, yup, chopped liver.
All season long we slavishly follow every on-field play and off-field rumor, hoping they’ll be game-clinchers or season-changers. We argue endlessly with Dodgers and Red Sox fans about whose team is the best. Every September, we hope and pray that our squad will make it to the playoffs. We shell out even more ridiculous sums of money to attend playoff game, and pray for the miracle that will propel our Yankees or Mets into the World Series.
To add to our collective chopped-liver misery, during the winter we check our phones way too often, in the hope that our team will make some trade or announce some surprise contract that will guarantee our October ticket to the Series. Late last year, the headlined departures of the Mets’ Brandon Nimmo, Edwin Diaz and Pete Alonso were like a collective lump of coal in our Christmas stocking.
To show what patsies we are, a couple of months from now, when spring training starts, we’ll ignore all the misery we’ve suffered and begin a new season of hope. We’ve screamed about the Mets losing favorite player after favorite player to other teams, and want to believe that something big will happen. Cohen says he is constantly looking for new stars and has an open checkbook, but he’s now concentrating on his new casino license and a neighboring soccer stadium. Mets fans? Chopped liver.
And the Yankees owners? During the winter, the Steinbrenners sign as many players as they can find, but the big moves, like signing another front-line pitcher or Cody Bellinger (maybe) don’t seem to be happening right now. According to Forbes and Sportico, the Yankees are valued at $8.2 billion to $8.4 billion, making them the most valuable franchise in baseball history. They claim they’re a break-even company, but their parent company, Yankee Global Enterprises, is estimated to make as much as $150 million annually.
We all know what would have happened if George Steinbrenner were still alive. The Yankees would resemble the Los Angeles Dodgers, who have an All-Star at virtually every position. But the Yankees management tells us that baseball is a business, and the sport’s luxury tax forces it to maintain a “tighter bottom line.” The counterpoint to that argument is what another baseball team owner told me: “When you win a World Series, there’s a gusher of new money to be made.”
For now, though, if a friend or relative asks you what the chopped-liver line refers to, tell them it’s all about being a Mets or Yankees fan.
Jerry Kremer was a state assemblyman for 23 years, and chaired the Assembly’s Ways and Means Committee for 12 years. Comments about this column? jkremer@liherald.com.
