For the final stop on my two city tour I visited NYC. While in Seattle I visited a zoo, so I thought it would be fitting to visit the Bronx equivalent. The Yankees were playing their final game in Yankee Stadium and I was determined to score tickets to this historic event. So where does one turn when they want to find something? Why they hit-up my man Craig and his magical, magical list of course.
That's right, I actually used Craigs List for a serious reason this time, can you believe it? I wouldn't have either, but here's visual confirmation. I got tickets from someone leaving for Florida who wanted to unload them before they left, they were actually great seats too.
When I arrived at the stadium I could smell the excitement in the air, or maybe that was just the aroma of drunk Yankees fans. Either way, we all gathered underneath the subway platform, surrounding hordes of vendors trying to cash in on the game. They were peddling t-shirts, jerseys, newspapers, pins, ticket holders and just about anything else you sell with a Yankee logo on it.
I hadn't seen this many opportunistic vendors since I visited the Sistine Chapel and witnessed their vendors selling shot glasses with Pope John Paul II on them. Being the good Catholic I am, I convinced myself they were only selling the glasses so others could enjoy their wine in moderation. I ended up buying a t-shirt from one of the vendors, which simply reads: "Bahston Sawks Cack."
Oh, I should have probably clarified that I purchased this t-shirt from a New York City vendor, not a Vatican City one. That would have been weird.
As I waded through the hordes of NY fans and vendors, I crept closer to the cathedral of baseball. I had now noticed that on one side of the stadium was a line of guys facing a wall. I assumed they were pissing on it, but then I noticed a girl facing the wall too and I thought — man she's talented.
As I got closer I noticed they weren't peeing on the wall, they were just trying to chip pieces of it off. I joined them in the chip-fest and managed to pocket some nice chunks of the exterior wall at Yankee Stadium.
By the time I entered the park I was completely high on nostalgia, my eyes darted from corner to corner of the stadium searching for the perfect souvenir to steal from the ballpark I grew up with, but New York's finest were in full force and everything worth taking was completely bolted down. So
I grabbed a seat and enjoyed a two hour tribute to Yankees past & present. I was concerned that the magnitude of this event might be lost on some of the younger fans in attendance. This notion was quickly dispelled after hearing the young fan sitting behind me make this poignant sports observation to his brother:
"This like totally sucks, I can't believe the stadium ran out of pretzels. How could they run out of pretzels, it's not even the first inning! I hope the new stadium has more pretzels than this one, because this place sucks."
Yes, now that I think about it I remember seeing plans for the new Yankee Stadium and being relieved that they included an expansive mezzanine pretzel tier to the design. I'm sure your father will be refunded the 400 plus dollars he shelled out on that seat you were sitting in you ungrateful little shit.
But despite the pretzel outage, it was a great game, as the Yankees took the last one at the stadium 7-3. Only one idiot rushed the field and he was quickly taken down by New York's human piñata patrol.
After that the next couple days in NY were pretty low key. I hung out in Brooklyn some, walked around the East Village, shanked a hooker, and then chilled in Central Park where I
saw that douche David Blaine setting up his latest trick. You know, the one where he hangs upside down for several hours and then does nothing. I watched the end of it on TV and I would have been Tremors 2 pissed if I stood there waiting to see him smash into the ground, only to see him pull-up short and float off into the night sky. Snooze.
So now I'm finally back at home. Actually I've been back for over a week now, but you wouldn't know it by looking at my suitcase — which continues to sit unpacked on the floor next to the washing machine. I think I should probably get on that. Meh, actually I think I'll just sit here on the couch and continue doing a whole lotta nothing.