The New Yankee Stadium - A Photo Essay

How did this happen? What strange forces were at play in the universe? Has the Earth revolved off its axis?

Something needs to explain how I ended up at the new Yankee Stadium last Friday night.

In the middle of a monsoon.

Waiting ninety minutes for the game to start.

And, as a non-Yankee fan, watching a truly historic moment in team history. Derek Jeter passing Lou Gehrig as the alltime Yankee basehit leader.

Yep, I was there. God, are you listening? My steely resolve has rusted. And, given how much rain I endured, I'm not surprised.

The previous night, I had been to see the Mets play out the string at Citi Field. There were more hot dog wrappers blowing over the outfield than there were fans in the seats. They have tried to expand the evidence of team history, but it is still paltry. I even saw coach Howard Johnson aimlessly walking around the field level as if he was looking for any speck of nostalgia for the Mets of old. Meanwhile, in the team stores, I found the same Brooklyn Dodger shirts that are on sale at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles. And the Jackie Robinson lovefest in the rotunda continues ad nauseum. I am guessing all those big screen clips of Jackie stealing home will be old hat by next season. Correction: they are old hat now.

Meanwhile, over at the new edifice on 161st Street and River Avenue in the Bronx, Yankee history is not only embraced but it's fondled almost inappropriately. Even though the team's story still sits across the street at the urine-laden cathedral that is now being torn down brick-by-brick, you still get the same celebration in the new home. And since there is a lot more room, you find it emblazoned from wall to wall.

Take, for instance, the Great Hall. This is sort of like the main airport terminal for your flight to Yankeeland. Your personal Yankee is leaving from Gate #4. You are virtually enveloped in pinstripes. And you can also do it in actuality by stopping at one of the five hundred team stores. You, too, could wear an exact replica of Mickey Mantle's jock. And, for an extra fifty bucks, you can wear the real thing. Washed just once.

There are lots of posters all over the place. You can have your picture photographed in front of the "luckiest man on the face of the earth." And this would make you perhaps the second luckiest.

This artifact actually adorned the main entrance to the old Yankee Stadium. Nothing was obviously thrown into a dumpster. They have hung it in the new place and you can also be photographed with it, although my grandmother had odder looking stuff hanging in her own living room.

More and more and more photos pop up. Here's one of Steinbrenner before he started to drool with former Mayor Rudy Guiliani showing, as usual, little bi-partisanship, and then Yankee Manager Joe Torre apparently auditioning for the role of Tom Joad in "The Grapes of Wrath."

They've copied the original facade which was copied by the old place when they redid the stadium in 1976. So, it's been reproduced a third time. And, somehow, even with this lack of originality, it still works. And it produced what little protection we had from the elements.

The only historical misstep was the placement of the famed Monument Park. It used to be situated in what was a major tourist stop in the old Yankee Stadium. Here, it's shoved into a corner behind the centerfield wall and it has the appearance that planners forgot to include it in their blueprints. I can hear the architect now. "Holy shit, the monuments! We forgot all about them."

There is a high definition video screen that literally dominates the whole playing field. Those seated in the bleachers right underneath need to be tested for excessive radiation immediately. While it's great for baseball shots, they also use it for countless moments of sheer nonsense between innings. Trivia quizzes, seat upgrades, and subway races. Enough is enough. The camera also took many candid pictures of the other areas of the ballpark. There might have been a shot of me peeing in the bathroom. I was very conscious about overshooting the eco-friendly waterless urinal.

Of course, the big deal about the game was Derek Jeter's need for one basehit to scoot past Lou Gehrig for the alltime hit record. With each pitch of his first at-bat, the ubiquitous flash bulbs went off all over the place. Crack dealers in the apartments two blocks away probably thought all the flashing was a signal for a FBI sting operation. Derek didn't get the record on his first time to the plate. But, on his second stroll to the dish, I clicked along in an attempt to capture the historic moment on digital film. And here it is. Jeter's hit. As seen through the hat of the guy in front of me.

At least, he didn't block my shot of the video screen. But, then again, that video screen can be seen as far as Dumont, New Jersey.

Naturally, Jeter was surrounded by congratulating teammates, who, despite the rain, stayed for the rest of the game. Most of the fans around me, however, started for the exits as soon as he made the second tip of the cap.

As for me, I was content to hang around here a little while longer. I was digging a stadium that truly celebrated its team, its storied history, and its fans. Besides, I had purchased a hat that protected me from the elements.

And that's another picture that I am going to get lots of shit about.

Dinner last night: Roast beef sandwich from Clementine's.