A Rivalry that Predates Reason.
Leave it to Jersey to get bent out of shape over a nickname that isn't even Dirty Jerz. We let your origin-of-childhood white lies slip by since, hey, anyone north/south/east/west of here probably can't tell the difference, even though we know the truth: You Are Not From New York City. And when Tony Soprano gave Sunday night a new sense of hope, we refused to fast forward through the opening credits because deep down inside us, we felt a budding respect for the New Jersey Turnpike. And, if given an opportunity, we'd gladly exchange a day at Brooklyn's enticing yet dingy Coney Island for a once-in-a-summer chance to lay out on the clean, well-kept Jersey Shore. So cut us some slack, read your history book (or this article), and know it ain't personal. Enjoy!
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