In Yankeeland, a long goodbye to Mass. plates

I knew it wouldn’t be easy. But I never thought it would be so hard saying goodbye to two pieces of metal.

But why the difficulty?

First, I didn’t want people automatically equating my New York plates with Yankees fandom. It’s not that I’m a diehard Red Sox fan. But as someone born and raised in Massachusetts I am sure of one thing: the Yankees are REALLY BAD.

Also, I get a little blue when I imagine that in future visits to my native state, Massachusetts residents will look at me as an outsider while I scoot around in my car. My heart screams proud Mass. native but my car, with its mustard yellow plates, indicates New Yorker.

For a little advice on how to handle this conflict I turned to someone who has already walked this path.

Josh Shear, 34, a community manager in Syracuse, N.Y., is a native of Massachusetts. When he first got his New York plates in 2006, “there was definitely some sighing and stages of grief,’’ said Shear, a man known to wear a beat-up Red Sox hat most days of the week.

“Not only had I moved away from home but I had become a New Yorker,’’ he said. “It took away one of the last outward signs that I was from Massachusetts.’’

Shear rectified his conflicting state identities with a simple solution: His registration-plate holder says Red Sox on it.

As I went through the process of registering my car in New York, I found sympathy in unusual places. My insurance agent in Syracuse, Susan Sokolowski, commiserated with me about the burnt-yellow color of the newly designed New York plates.

“Don’t even get me started,’’ she said. (Memo to New York: Automobile plates reminiscent of mustard are neither hip nor pleasant to look at. If interested in a 1970s shag-carpet color scheme, I would have suggested the more muted avocado green.)