Todd Heisler/The New York Times
Growing up in the New York metropolitan area, you are indoctrinated in the belief that this city is the biggest, the best, the greatest: Look, ma, I’m the capital of the world! We are the ultimate closers, you are taught, embracing the winners-and-losers philosophy espoused in “Glengarry Glen Ross,” David Mamet’s play about real estate sales.
First place: a Cadillac Eldorado.
Second place: a set of steak knives.
When we deign to participate in silly competitions with other cities — over the best museums, the best pizza, the best organized crime — we do so with an eye roll so exaggerated that it can unite this divided country in a shared loathing of New York.