blow out

i went to a Yankee game recently.

its the last year at Yankee stadium before they tear it down and even though i don't follow baseball real closely and don't feel a genuine allegiance towards any team (aside from purely geographical ties. go giants!) i respect and appreciate the lore that shadows the House that Babe Built. serious American history is in that stadium. the things that this country is made of. i couldn't pass up the opportunity for a free ticket.

the subway ride from Brooklyn to the Bronx was long and grumbling and i read a book the whole way and missed my stop and had to cross over the platform and take a train back before i got to the actual stadium. Charles was waiting for me at billy's, a bar directly across the street from the ball field. it is open faced like bars are in New Orleans. from down the street you could hear the DJ inside blasting horrible European dance remixes to already bad American pop songs. guys with their hats were turned backward wore baseball jerseys and were high fiving each other. the bartenders looked as if they were plucked straight from the most treasured pornographic images in my memory bank. i spent thirty dollars on two beers and a Jameson and threw up the white flag (of financial destitution) and we got our tickets out and headed to our seats.

whenever we go to games, we never sit in the assigned seats we've paid for. we always just mosey down to the lower decks and snag a seat that's unsold or abandon. the ushers know it and don't care. its all good. we always do it. but this game was sold out. we couldn't find any safe seats on the lower deck, and had to settle for pedestrian accommodations in the second tier. a row of seats obviously owned by a company where the employees either didn't know, or didn't care that they were owned. we had a pretty sweet view down the first base line, looking directly at home plate.

it was a drubbing. by the fourth inning it was 6-0, the Baltimore Orioles giving the yanks a serious pounding. we bought a couple bud lights from a beer guy walking the aisles and clicked their plastic necks and knocked back the first swig long and hard. Charles yelled at the pitcher to fucking suck it up and start throwing like a man. i burped and felt nervous and looked around for security. in the bottom of the seventh inning the orioles hit a grand slam, making it 11-0.

there was a mass exodus towards the exits. the bombers had blew it. throw in the towel and grab a slice before you go back to your life, because baseball didn't save it tonight, folks. we squeezed onto a packed 4 train and headed back to Brooklyn, grinning, despite the scoreboard.

i guess even though it might be the last Yankee game i see at the original Yankee stadium,* at least i got to see a grand slam home run in it. unfortunate though, it couldn't have been one by the Yankees.

guess i have to see another game.

*(the new stadium is directly across the street from the old one. people were taking cell phone pictures of it before they went through the gates to the game. it looks exactly like the old stadium, only shinier)