Yankee Stadium

It's been over a week since Yankee Stadium closed but I have wanted to say at least a little something about it. I was fortunate enough to know a kind person who thought to take me to the game (thanks Nicole) so I was actually able to see all the festivities in person. I didn't know how I would react to all the nostalgia -- I think I actually thought that it would be no big deal but that I was pumped that I could say that I had been there. So I guess it was a little surprising at how caught up in everything I got. I thought that the first tribute (people -- actors, I guess -- dressed as the first Yankee lineup to play in Yankee Stadium, which meant someone was introduced as Babe Ruth) was pretty cheesy and not a good start to everything. But when the video tributes of past Yankees by position started going, that is when it really started to hit me.

I guess I should say that there are two specific parts of the tribute that would affect me. The first is that I grew up a die-hard Yankee fan. I grew up idolizing Don Mattingly (and who wouldn't? I wished, and probably still wish, that I was that kid who had the popcorn Don Mattingly ate on the sly during that game years back...man that kid was lucky). He was the kind of quiet, not flashy, dependable player that anchored many of the sub par and sub sub par teams in the 80s and 90s. Regardless of how tough their year had been I was a fan. To give an example, one night when I was younger I was near inconsolable because I couldn't imagine how the Yankees were going to win the next year because they had let go/traded Claudell Washington. I'm not sure how many other people have shed tears over Claudell but let me tell you: it hurt. Anyway, back to Donnie Baseball: Don Mattingly's reach was so far that he helped my dad get out of a speeding ticket. One night on the way to a game, my dad got pulled over on the Hutch. The cop asked why we were going so fast, so my dad said we were going to the Yanks game. The cop leaned in the window and asked me who my favorite player was. Obviously I said "Don Mattingly" to which he replied, "Ok, slow down, get to the game safe."

So it was with a little more than anticipation that I was looking forward to seeing Don Mattingly back on the field on this night. Unfortunately he is a coach with the Dodgers and they had a west coast game that afternoon so he wasn't there. In his place, though, were many other players who received unbelievable ovations: Bernie Williams, Scot Brosius, Willie Randolph. There was a good mix of players I had seen (though somehow Scott Kamienicki was missing) and players that I had heard about through my parents or general Yankee lore.

I was especially excited to see players from the 70s: Reggie, Graig Nettles, Roy White, Guidry. This is the second part of the tribute that affected me: I love 70s New York. And not just because of the chaos surrounding it, or the toughness of that time, or the graffiti everywhere. There is definitely something to be said about loving imperfection, even though that is probably because we who survived it can look back fondly at our survival. I love it because that is when my parents were living in New York. I really like the idea of going over paths that your parents may have taken years before. I think it is incredible that my parents used to live seven blocks south and one block west from where I am writing this now. So seeing the videos that night of those players, some the grainy footage of Goose Gossage and Bucky Dent and Thurman Munson, was really me trying to imagine my parents in the crowd about thirty years before. And though it didn't make me cry like that night Claudell Washington was no longer a Yankee, it made me come close.