While EH and I are both decidedly NOT real Yankees fans, we couldn't help but get a little giddy as we suited up in our blue t-shirts and headed to Yankees Stadium in the Bronx. There was blue everywhere, Yankees everywhere, and I was immediately caught up in yankee-fever. Within the first 2 minutes of arrival to the stadium, I had already come dangerously close to paying $10 for a foam finger. EH said to the vendor, "$10?? For foam??" She was right. So I didn't buy it. That $10 went to a beer instead.
Inside the stadium, we found our seats and were pleasantly surprised that our noses, in fact, were not bleeding. We could see everything: the players, the field, the sky. It was good enough for us. We sat for a minute taking in the scene, the experience of it all. Something was missing, so we went to get beer and fried food. Ah, much better. As we were waiting in line, deep in contemplation about what vendor had the best looking french fries, we realized that we were missing the starting line-up (is that what it's called?). Then as we figured out which size beers we should get, we faintly heard the National Anthem in the background. Shoot. We decided that we are not very good baseball fans, but at least we would be well-fed baseball fans. We went back to our spots behind a Hasidic Jewish family (so NY), and started talking baseball. And by baseball I mean baseball movies. Mixed memories of The Rookie, Angels in the Outfield, and that movie with Charlie Sheen that I can't remember all came flooding back. It really got us in the spirit. The beer, hotdogs, french fries, onion rings, and popcorn also helped us get in the spirit. We were having a [base] ball!
The game was against the Los Angeles Angels, and there was one poor, lonely Angels fan sitting in our section, completely surrounded by Yanks. One red in a sea of blue. She sat right behind us, and we felt a little bad for her. I also felt a little bad about cheering against Angels in the first place. I need all the angels' help I can get! But then I remembered that Angels in the Outfield is just a movie, and the Angels I saw playing are just like me. They can't answer prayers or anything. So I booed them with the rest of the crowd.
The best part of going to a professional sporting event (did I mention this was my first one?) is that there is so much happening, so even if the team sucks or you don't really know what's going on, there is music and jumbotrons and inappropriate cheering to keep you entertained. I mean, I did know what was going on most of the time, but EH and I didn't really know any players and we were very confused about where A-Rod was. (EH told me to google it, but I was unsuccessful.) So instead of letting our lack of baseball knowledge get in the way, we really got into cheering. We owned the wave every time it came around.
In addition to googling A-Rod's whereabouts, I also did some research about the seventh inning stretch. That iphone research was also inconclusive, but one of my favorite moments of the night happened after I put my phone down and EH and I read the shout-outs on the jumbotron. Happy birthdays, happy anniversaries, and one marriage proposal: "Johnny, Will you marry me, boo? Love Ciara." That was the best. I hope he said yes.
After what seemed like a quick 9 innings, 5 beers, and a hundred pictures or so, we gathered our souvenir cups and left our non-nose bleed seats. Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" was on repeat and we sang along as we made our way to the exit. We may not be real Yankees fans, but we are real fans of New York. And blue.
But seriously, where is A-Rod?
See EH's photos
Inside the stadium, we found our seats and were pleasantly surprised that our noses, in fact, were not bleeding. We could see everything: the players, the field, the sky. It was good enough for us. We sat for a minute taking in the scene, the experience of it all. Something was missing, so we went to get beer and fried food. Ah, much better. As we were waiting in line, deep in contemplation about what vendor had the best looking french fries, we realized that we were missing the starting line-up (is that what it's called?). Then as we figured out which size beers we should get, we faintly heard the National Anthem in the background. Shoot. We decided that we are not very good baseball fans, but at least we would be well-fed baseball fans. We went back to our spots behind a Hasidic Jewish family (so NY), and started talking baseball. And by baseball I mean baseball movies. Mixed memories of The Rookie, Angels in the Outfield, and that movie with Charlie Sheen that I can't remember all came flooding back. It really got us in the spirit. The beer, hotdogs, french fries, onion rings, and popcorn also helped us get in the spirit. We were having a [base] ball!
The game was against the Los Angeles Angels, and there was one poor, lonely Angels fan sitting in our section, completely surrounded by Yanks. One red in a sea of blue. She sat right behind us, and we felt a little bad for her. I also felt a little bad about cheering against Angels in the first place. I need all the angels' help I can get! But then I remembered that Angels in the Outfield is just a movie, and the Angels I saw playing are just like me. They can't answer prayers or anything. So I booed them with the rest of the crowd.
The best part of going to a professional sporting event (did I mention this was my first one?) is that there is so much happening, so even if the team sucks or you don't really know what's going on, there is music and jumbotrons and inappropriate cheering to keep you entertained. I mean, I did know what was going on most of the time, but EH and I didn't really know any players and we were very confused about where A-Rod was. (EH told me to google it, but I was unsuccessful.) So instead of letting our lack of baseball knowledge get in the way, we really got into cheering. We owned the wave every time it came around.
In addition to googling A-Rod's whereabouts, I also did some research about the seventh inning stretch. That iphone research was also inconclusive, but one of my favorite moments of the night happened after I put my phone down and EH and I read the shout-outs on the jumbotron. Happy birthdays, happy anniversaries, and one marriage proposal: "Johnny, Will you marry me, boo? Love Ciara." That was the best. I hope he said yes.
After what seemed like a quick 9 innings, 5 beers, and a hundred pictures or so, we gathered our souvenir cups and left our non-nose bleed seats. Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" was on repeat and we sang along as we made our way to the exit. We may not be real Yankees fans, but we are real fans of New York. And blue.
But seriously, where is A-Rod?
See EH's photos
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