The first time I physically set foot inside "The House That Ruth Built" was not the joyous occasion it should have been. I first entered its gates on 9.23.01 for the "Prayer For America" after the September 11th attacks on the World Trade Center. Even in its post-1976 renovation state, the building felt as if it was from another time. I remember being awestruck in its presence. And experiencing it for the first time as a place of worship, remembrance, mourning and healing is an moment I'll never forget as long as I'm on this earth.
The next spring, I vowed to actually get up to the Bronx for the building's stated purpose and see my first Yankees game. Despite the fact that I was now identifying myself more and more as a Mets fan, it was silly that I'd been in NYC for 20 months and although I'd already been to 10 Mets games, I still hadn't made it to a Bombers game. After all, growing up where I did most other kids I knew took in their first ever ballgame in the Bronx. It's just sort of the way it is up there. I'd seen the exhaust pipe shaped like a large bat from the Amtrak the first time I ever came to visit New York in 6th Grade and I remember being in awe, knowing that Babe Ruth AND Don Mattingly had both played there (Donnie's 1987 Topps All-Star card with the wooden borders was one that the kids in the neighborhood all wanted, and was one of the few good cards I actually had back then).
Shortly into the 2002 season, I got a call from my friend Jon and was on my way to E. 161st St. and River Ave to see the Yankees take on the Seattle Mariners. Jon was one of my college roommates my Sophomore and Junior years of college (the years before I lived with Joe) and he was born and raised in Brooklyn. He all but introduced me to Hip-Hop (and it was always East Coast stuff: Biggie, DMX, Jay-Z, Big Pun); he allowed me to find appreciation for Steven Seagal movies; he taught me the joys of having a deep fat fryer in a college apartment; and along with his 2 other counterparts he demonstrated a propensity for playing pranks that may be unparalleled (often times with me as the victim). Jon is a huge Yankee fan. It was with him, in our small upstate college town, that I watched the Yankees win it all in '96 and '98. Once I moved to Queens and was first finding my way here in the city, it was Jon who helped me develop what little street cred I may have picked up along the way (which is admittedly very little). So it was fitting that he was the first to bring me to the Stadium for my first game.
I believe 2002 was Jon's first year with season tickets at Yankee Stadium. And his seats that year were in a location it was impossible to be ambivalent about- Jon was a "Bleacher Creature." I was incognito, as I still owned a Yankees shirt at the time. But a poor sucker wearing a hat supporting Seattle or (heaven forbid) the Red Sox was heckled mercilessly with some of the most offensive vulgarities I've ever been privy to. People were pulling airplane bottles of booze out of secret pockets in their windbreakers (the bleachers were completely disconnected from the rest of the park and strictly Alcohol Free back then). I experienced firsthand the player "roll call" at the beginning of the game (including a chant for pitcher David Wells who was one of the few pitchers who ever got that treatment). I remember hearing what I must assume were vulgarities in Japanese being launched at Right Fielder Ichiro Suzuki, and repeated cheers of "Box seats suck!" aimed at the rest of the Stadium. It's not to say it was all bad- not by a long shot. It was bright and sunny and fairly warm for May. The lines for bathrooms and Italian Sausages were much shorter since they only served a very small section of the park. But most importantly, the sense of community and camaraderie out there was unmatched. These were people who spent at least 81 days (more with all those World Series rings) sitting together on these hot metal benches year after year. They knew each other like family and I'm certain that many of the dads had been out there in the same section since they were kids themselves. I returned to the bleachers a few more times, including for a Playoff game that 2002 season with Jon, and while I never felt like I belonged out there, there may have been no better place to experience Yankee fans in their purest form.
Another thing that struck me was the life around the stadium. At Shea, you'd go to the game and then hurry to the train to return to civilization. A post-game dinner or drink happened in Jackson Heights or Woodside or Sunnyside. It certainly didn't happen at the Holiday Inn bar on the other side of the Grand Central Parkway (okay, maybe it did once). In the Bronx, however, there were bars, souvenir shops, parks, little league fields. People got there hours before the game and stayed well into the night. On game days and nights, the complexion of this rough-and-tumble neighborhood changed into a carnival-type atmosphere. Sure, it was more Coney Island than Disney World, but that was a large part of its appeal. I've since found similar vibes at Fenway and even walking around Wrigleyville on a day when there wasn't even a Cubs game. But this was here in New York, and at the time I'd never seen anything like it.
Looking back with hindsight, I find it noteworthy that the first Yankee at bat I heard Bob Sheppard announce was "Now batting for the Yankees, numbuh 12, Alfonso Soriano, the Second Baseman, Numbuh 12." Mr. Sheppard was still years away from his health problems and subsequent retirement. It's hard to believe today's generation will only know him as a recorded voice announcing "Numbuh 2, Derek Jeetuh, Numbuh 2." I mean no disrespect to Alex Anthony (who probably wasn't even anouncing Mets games back then), but the Yankees certainly beat the Mets in the P.A. announcer competition.
The music selection may be another story. While I marveled that first afternoon at the choice of Bobby Darin's "Sunday in New York" and still remember the time that half my section sang along to the organ rendition of The Spiral Starecase's "More Today Than Yesterday," I just can't get behind being subjected to 2 Unlimited's "Get Ready For This," Rednex's "Cotton Eye Joe" or The Village People's Y.M.C.A each and every time I go to a ballgame (Although of all the jobs in baseball, I'm probably most qualified to be member of a dancing grounds crew). Even a guy with cheesy tastes in music has to draw the line somewhere. But I do always find myself singing along with Frankie's "New York, New York" when I leave the Bronx (and I swear I once heard them play Liza's rendition after a particularly bad loss to the Devil Rays).
My first Yankees home game ended up 10-6 in favor of the Mariners. It was former Yankee Lou Pinella's last season as the Seattle manager, and despite being in the other uniform, I remember the warm reception he received when announced. Bernie Williams hit 2 Home Runs and batted in half of the Yankees' runs by himself. Former Met John Olerud (who was part of that '99 Mets team that stole my heart) started at first for the M's and Robin Ventura (ditto) was at 3rd for the Yanks. Ichiro led off the game with a hit and scored a few batters later (he also scored a couple more as the game went on). There aren't too many more memories of the game itself that still tug on my heartstrings 8 years later, but it was a good game. Jon was pissed that they lost though.
"The Stadium" was the site of many special baseball memories during my first decade living in New York. I took my sister to her first baseball game a couple months after that first game (she's since joined me on a couple stops on the stadium tour, with more to come this summer). I saw my first (aforementioned) MLB playoff game in the Bronx, as the Yankees lost to the eventual World Series Champion Anaheim Angels. I spent an afternoon of my friend Paul's bachelor party taking in a Yanks/Indians game (Paul is the same guy from the Expos post, and is a big Mets fan as well-by way of the Houston Astros-so it's a bit funny that our second game together was a Yankees game). I've attended 2 Yankees/Red Sox games and experienced first-hand the most intense rivalry in American sports. I was there the night Derek Jeter got his 2,000th hit, which proved to be a surprisingly sentimental moment as I vividly remembered his first full rookie season of '96.
In the summer of 2006, just before I officially embarked on the Stadium Tour, I vowed to attend games of the 9 MLB teams I still hadn't seen in person. As a fan of a National League team, 6 of those 9 remaining teams played in the American League. So I went to Yankee Stadium as many times that season as I had in all of the 4 seasons before that, taking in games against the Devil Rays, Rangers, Royals, White Sox, Tigers and Twins. During those games I lost a favorite sweatshirt, learned about the merits of BBQ Sauce from an obnoxious fan behind me, saw future Yanks Mark Teixeira as a Ranger, Ivan Rodriguez and Curtis Granderson as Tigers and, on a rainy day in early September, I completed the goal of seeing every team in baseball in a rain-shortened game against the Twins (the only game I've ever seen that didn't go the full nine).
Just after the All-Star Game in 2008, in the last game I ever attended at the old Yankee Stadium, I saw a kid from my High School start at Shortstop for the Twins and score a run at Yankee Stadium. He and I weren't friends, but he was always a stand-up guy. During his second at-bat, the fun-fact on the scoreboard was that Brendan Harris had attended HS at Queensbury in Upstate NY. It was the smallest of things, but it stands as probably my favorite memory of the old place. I remember wondering if Brendan had ever seen the bat from the Amtrak and felt the same way that I did whenever he set foot inside (of course on a good night, he also gets to run the bases). He came from the same world that I did, yet there he was on the biggest stage in sports.
I'm sad that it's gone. It was an icon-perhaps as close as our country could ever get to the Coliseum in Rome. Honestly, it seemed to me that part of the ownership's motivation was only to build a new park the same year the Mets did, so that they couldn't be outdone (and with that came an All-Star Game, a Sports Illustrated cover dedicated to the building, etc.). I realize that it was never quite the same after the facelift in the '70s (and wish I had been able to see it in its original glory). I realize it was structurally impossible to add additional luxury boxes, let alone a Hard Rock Café, to a structure built in 1923. But there was nothing like a game in that old stadium. You could leave there with vertigo, a headache and indigestion and still wonder if life ever got any better than this.
Shortly into the 2002 season, I got a call from my friend Jon and was on my way to E. 161st St. and River Ave to see the Yankees take on the Seattle Mariners. Jon was one of my college roommates my Sophomore and Junior years of college (the years before I lived with Joe) and he was born and raised in Brooklyn. He all but introduced me to Hip-Hop (and it was always East Coast stuff: Biggie, DMX, Jay-Z, Big Pun); he allowed me to find appreciation for Steven Seagal movies; he taught me the joys of having a deep fat fryer in a college apartment; and along with his 2 other counterparts he demonstrated a propensity for playing pranks that may be unparalleled (often times with me as the victim). Jon is a huge Yankee fan. It was with him, in our small upstate college town, that I watched the Yankees win it all in '96 and '98. Once I moved to Queens and was first finding my way here in the city, it was Jon who helped me develop what little street cred I may have picked up along the way (which is admittedly very little). So it was fitting that he was the first to bring me to the Stadium for my first game.
I believe 2002 was Jon's first year with season tickets at Yankee Stadium. And his seats that year were in a location it was impossible to be ambivalent about- Jon was a "Bleacher Creature." I was incognito, as I still owned a Yankees shirt at the time. But a poor sucker wearing a hat supporting Seattle or (heaven forbid) the Red Sox was heckled mercilessly with some of the most offensive vulgarities I've ever been privy to. People were pulling airplane bottles of booze out of secret pockets in their windbreakers (the bleachers were completely disconnected from the rest of the park and strictly Alcohol Free back then). I experienced firsthand the player "roll call" at the beginning of the game (including a chant for pitcher David Wells who was one of the few pitchers who ever got that treatment). I remember hearing what I must assume were vulgarities in Japanese being launched at Right Fielder Ichiro Suzuki, and repeated cheers of "Box seats suck!" aimed at the rest of the Stadium. It's not to say it was all bad- not by a long shot. It was bright and sunny and fairly warm for May. The lines for bathrooms and Italian Sausages were much shorter since they only served a very small section of the park. But most importantly, the sense of community and camaraderie out there was unmatched. These were people who spent at least 81 days (more with all those World Series rings) sitting together on these hot metal benches year after year. They knew each other like family and I'm certain that many of the dads had been out there in the same section since they were kids themselves. I returned to the bleachers a few more times, including for a Playoff game that 2002 season with Jon, and while I never felt like I belonged out there, there may have been no better place to experience Yankee fans in their purest form.
Another thing that struck me was the life around the stadium. At Shea, you'd go to the game and then hurry to the train to return to civilization. A post-game dinner or drink happened in Jackson Heights or Woodside or Sunnyside. It certainly didn't happen at the Holiday Inn bar on the other side of the Grand Central Parkway (okay, maybe it did once). In the Bronx, however, there were bars, souvenir shops, parks, little league fields. People got there hours before the game and stayed well into the night. On game days and nights, the complexion of this rough-and-tumble neighborhood changed into a carnival-type atmosphere. Sure, it was more Coney Island than Disney World, but that was a large part of its appeal. I've since found similar vibes at Fenway and even walking around Wrigleyville on a day when there wasn't even a Cubs game. But this was here in New York, and at the time I'd never seen anything like it.
Looking back with hindsight, I find it noteworthy that the first Yankee at bat I heard Bob Sheppard announce was "Now batting for the Yankees, numbuh 12, Alfonso Soriano, the Second Baseman, Numbuh 12." Mr. Sheppard was still years away from his health problems and subsequent retirement. It's hard to believe today's generation will only know him as a recorded voice announcing "Numbuh 2, Derek Jeetuh, Numbuh 2." I mean no disrespect to Alex Anthony (who probably wasn't even anouncing Mets games back then), but the Yankees certainly beat the Mets in the P.A. announcer competition.
The music selection may be another story. While I marveled that first afternoon at the choice of Bobby Darin's "Sunday in New York" and still remember the time that half my section sang along to the organ rendition of The Spiral Starecase's "More Today Than Yesterday," I just can't get behind being subjected to 2 Unlimited's "Get Ready For This," Rednex's "Cotton Eye Joe" or The Village People's Y.M.C.A each and every time I go to a ballgame (Although of all the jobs in baseball, I'm probably most qualified to be member of a dancing grounds crew). Even a guy with cheesy tastes in music has to draw the line somewhere. But I do always find myself singing along with Frankie's "New York, New York" when I leave the Bronx (and I swear I once heard them play Liza's rendition after a particularly bad loss to the Devil Rays).
My first Yankees home game ended up 10-6 in favor of the Mariners. It was former Yankee Lou Pinella's last season as the Seattle manager, and despite being in the other uniform, I remember the warm reception he received when announced. Bernie Williams hit 2 Home Runs and batted in half of the Yankees' runs by himself. Former Met John Olerud (who was part of that '99 Mets team that stole my heart) started at first for the M's and Robin Ventura (ditto) was at 3rd for the Yanks. Ichiro led off the game with a hit and scored a few batters later (he also scored a couple more as the game went on). There aren't too many more memories of the game itself that still tug on my heartstrings 8 years later, but it was a good game. Jon was pissed that they lost though.
"The Stadium" was the site of many special baseball memories during my first decade living in New York. I took my sister to her first baseball game a couple months after that first game (she's since joined me on a couple stops on the stadium tour, with more to come this summer). I saw my first (aforementioned) MLB playoff game in the Bronx, as the Yankees lost to the eventual World Series Champion Anaheim Angels. I spent an afternoon of my friend Paul's bachelor party taking in a Yanks/Indians game (Paul is the same guy from the Expos post, and is a big Mets fan as well-by way of the Houston Astros-so it's a bit funny that our second game together was a Yankees game). I've attended 2 Yankees/Red Sox games and experienced first-hand the most intense rivalry in American sports. I was there the night Derek Jeter got his 2,000th hit, which proved to be a surprisingly sentimental moment as I vividly remembered his first full rookie season of '96.
In the summer of 2006, just before I officially embarked on the Stadium Tour, I vowed to attend games of the 9 MLB teams I still hadn't seen in person. As a fan of a National League team, 6 of those 9 remaining teams played in the American League. So I went to Yankee Stadium as many times that season as I had in all of the 4 seasons before that, taking in games against the Devil Rays, Rangers, Royals, White Sox, Tigers and Twins. During those games I lost a favorite sweatshirt, learned about the merits of BBQ Sauce from an obnoxious fan behind me, saw future Yanks Mark Teixeira as a Ranger, Ivan Rodriguez and Curtis Granderson as Tigers and, on a rainy day in early September, I completed the goal of seeing every team in baseball in a rain-shortened game against the Twins (the only game I've ever seen that didn't go the full nine). Just after the All-Star Game in 2008, in the last game I ever attended at the old Yankee Stadium, I saw a kid from my High School start at Shortstop for the Twins and score a run at Yankee Stadium. He and I weren't friends, but he was always a stand-up guy. During his second at-bat, the fun-fact on the scoreboard was that Brendan Harris had attended HS at Queensbury in Upstate NY. It was the smallest of things, but it stands as probably my favorite memory of the old place. I remember wondering if Brendan had ever seen the bat from the Amtrak and felt the same way that I did whenever he set foot inside (of course on a good night, he also gets to run the bases). He came from the same world that I did, yet there he was on the biggest stage in sports.
I'm sad that it's gone. It was an icon-perhaps as close as our country could ever get to the Coliseum in Rome. Honestly, it seemed to me that part of the ownership's motivation was only to build a new park the same year the Mets did, so that they couldn't be outdone (and with that came an All-Star Game, a Sports Illustrated cover dedicated to the building, etc.). I realize that it was never quite the same after the facelift in the '70s (and wish I had been able to see it in its original glory). I realize it was structurally impossible to add additional luxury boxes, let alone a Hard Rock Café, to a structure built in 1923. But there was nothing like a game in that old stadium. You could leave there with vertigo, a headache and indigestion and still wonder if life ever got any better than this.
I will never forget that day. My first baseball game. It was Jason Giambi's first year with "The Yanks" and you were telling me all about how he had to be clean shaven to play for The Yankees. I still don't QUITE undertstand all the rules of baseball, but you've sure been one heck of a teacher and I'm getting better with each game. Between the Padres, Angels, Dodgers and Yankees, I am slowly adding teams to my own roster. Thanks for all the memories. Cheers to many more!
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