Atlanta 4 – New York 3; CJ: 1-3, RBI (25), BB
With the Braves in New York, wanna hear a funny story about the time I was in New York? It involves Old Yankee Stadium, so it’s related. Kind of.
After my first job out of school, in which I lived in Amsterdam for two years, I came back to the US and wasn’t in a hurry to find another job. I had some time and money to spare, so I thought I’d take a little break while I figured out what I’d do next.
At the time, a friend was living in New York City. Well, he lived in Hoboken, New Jersey, which is across the Hudson, and I decided I’d go up and stay with him for an entire month. I figured that’d be enough time to really see New York, and, as he had a spare bedroom, I wasn’t imposing.
I did all the touristy things: The Statue of Liberty, a taping of David Letterman, two Broadway shows (Wicked and Avenue Q – thumbs up!), an opera at the Met, lots of museums, shopping on 5th Avenue. Everything. And I took my time with it. Since I had a month, I slept in, took my time getting ready, and headed out in the afternoon to see whatever I wanted to see that day. Super chill and relax, the best way to see New York, assuming you have a month to burn.
While there, I also toured Yankee Stadium. It was the winter, so no games to see, but a tour was better than not going at all. And, since the stadium only had a few seasons left, my timing was great. (Actually, as I walked around the outside of Yankee Stadium, I could see the construction of the new stadium next door. And to think, today it’s all gone.)
It was a great tour. They took us in the locker room where everyone from Babe Ruth to Joe DiMaggio to Mickey Mantle to Derek Jeter suited up. And you know what? The think was tiny. Super tiny. The ceiling was low, and I got the impression the guys were probably pretty cramped in there. The entire space was probably no bigger than my condo. Seriously small.
We also saw the press box, which was particularly neat for me and is probably the coolest press box I’ve ever been in. Good view, too. The overhead view was a bit obstructed by the bottom of the third level, so you might miss the cresting of a high homerun, but for a free seat, not bad at all.
We also got to go in the Yankee’s dugout and sit on the bench. I just kept thinking, do you know the guys that have sat on this bench?! Reggie Jackson. Whitey Ford. Billy Martin. Yogi Berra. Lou Gehrig. The list goes on and on. I’ll say it again, I loathe the Yankees, but I love what they’ve meant to the history of baseball. It’s weird, I know. I hate the modern day team, but I love their history. Once you stop playing for the Yankees and become a name in the record books, you’re okay by me.
Finally, they took us to monument park. Did you know the three original monuments were for Gehrig, Ruth, and… I forget the last guy. (Sorry, last guy.) And that it used to be in the field of play? Smart move to close them off. They have sharp edges.
Overall, it was an amazing sight. I mean, there were much better looking parks out there, from an aesthetics standpoint, but when you think of what that place had seen and what had transpired there, it became amazing. I had a sense of wonderment and awe walking around the place. I know that sounds cheesy, but it’s true. Like they say, it was a giant shrine to the game, and I’m really glad I got to see it before it was gone.
But I’m ahead of myself. I said a ‘funny’ thing happened. Well, turns out I had to pay for that tour twice. Why? Because on my first trip to Yankee Stadium, I made a simple mistake. I had the time right and my directions written down, but I forgot them. So I didn’t know for sure what subway stop to get off at. I knew the street had three numbers in it and that it had two ones and a six. I couldn’t remember, however, what order they were in. Was it 116th or 161st? Terrified at the thought that 161st didn’t exist – How on Earth could the numbers really go up that high? They stopped in the 50’s in Austin – I got off at 116th. (Those of you from New York know where this is going.)
According to my guide book, I couldn’t miss the stadium when I got off the subway. Well, I came out of the station and saw… nothing. Just normal, squatty, brick-covered buildings. One after another. I walked around a few blocks, hoping to see it, and still saw nothing that resembled a stadium in any way. I even made the mortifying mistake of asking somebody for directions, an elderly gentleman sitting in front of a business, and he just looked at me like I was crazy. It was a very unsettling look to get from an old man. Then he told me it was at 161st.
By this time I was late for the tour and had no choice but to head back in the direction I’d come. I decided instead I’d visit the Museum of Natural History. (The butterfly exhibit, where they actually land on you – awesome!) But don’t worry. I didn’t let my misadventure deter me. When I got home, I bought another ticket for the tour. Then I looked at a map to figure out where I’d been wondering around aimlessly. Guess where? Harlem. All by myself. Now, it was the middle of the day, so I was probably more than fine, but still. Only me. And, hey, now I can say I’ve been to Harlem.
On my second attempt I made it. And the book was right: when you got off the subway at 161st, you couldn’t miss it.
grossknowledge 