Yankee Game

"Larger than life" is the best way I can think of to explain how my first Yankee game felt. We took the express subway up to the Bronx, which I must say was a little frightening for me given the Bronx reputation. I wasn't even sure what stop I needed, but I figured we could follow all the people in Yankee shirts and we'd be safe. I was right. There was a swarm of Yankee-clad fans on the train with us, and they all got off at the stopped entitled "Yankee Stadium."  I really should have been able to figure that out on my own.

We got off the train and when I looked around I was a little intimidated by the slightly sketchy neighborhood. I had no idea how far the stadium was from the stop, but again figured I could rely on the trusty fans (strangers, of course. Why wouldn't I follow strangers to the Bronx and then rely on them to get me to the game?). Then I turned a little to the left and saw the tremendous stadium with "Yankee Stadium" written in what must have been 30-foot tall letters. Again, I should have been able to find that on my own. I'd been to several professional and college sports games, but this stadium far surpassed any stadium I'd ever seen. It was monstrously huge and I tried to picture the number people it would take to fill all the seats.

The line to get in went quickly, and from there we had to figure out what to do next. Take the stairs up? Down? Go left? Right? Take the ramp? The elevator? So many options. We decided to deal with options later and buy food right away. I bought a small Mountain Dew that was probably about a liter and half. Between the two of us we ended up spending about $40 on a ridiculously large bucket of popcorn (which was also advertised as a small), a turkey leg that was literally larger than the length of my forearm, and a plate of garlic cheese fries. I would say everything was wonderful...except the fries. I couldn't even bring myself to try them.

When the game finally started, there was so much energy that it was impossible not to get swept up in the excitement. It was electric, contagious even and I was soon on my feet cheering the hits and cursing the errors like a life-long fan. Every Yankee hit brought a mini adrenaline rush. Every hit by the opposing team brought a mini heartbreak. By the end of the 9 innings I felt like I'd been on a wild emotional roller coaster. I couldn't imagine how die-hard fans survive a whole season full of roller coasters. I came to the conclusion that it must be bad for their health and decided it would be safer to avoid becoming too attached. Despite my conviction to remain only a casual Yankee fan, when I left the stadium I bought a Yankee shirt...and a ticket to go to a game the following week.