Have you ever been to opening day at Yankee Stadium? I’ve been performing this rite for over 20 years, and it never gets old. First you pack yourself into Stan’s Sports Bar, located directly across from the stadium. And I do mean pack yourself in. Yesterday I found myself squeezing through openings only a piece of paper could fit through in order to meet my long time Yankee buddy, Lou Bender, at the bar. There he was, at the exact spot he always is, year after year. Lou had claimed his stake early that morning, when Stan’s opened up. I got there two hours, and 250 customers, later. And a lot of these customers aren’t exactly swim suit models. We’re talking 300 pounders and up, dressed in full Yankee regalia. Next to us, a guy intently texting someone, until he looks up and asks us how to spell “stadium”. Ooookay.
Anyway, there we stand for the next 3 hours, waiting through a rain delay, and there’s not a bottle or glass wine in site, not even a box of the Franzia Chablis that’s usually on the back bar. Now, I can only drink so much Rolling Rock, and listen to so many versions of New York, New York before I start to lose it. That, and being crushed from every conceivable angle by large, increasingly drunken humanoids. So, being the pragmatic guy I am, I rolled the dice on the game being called, said goodbye to Lou and spent the next 20 minutes slithering my way out of there through the crowd that was swelling by the minute. Doesn’t is sound idyllic?
But the real sick part of this is that I’m going to gladly do it all over again, tonight, because it is Opening Day, and I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world. I just wish there was a nice Bordeaux tucked away somewhere amongst the Jagermeister and Yuengling. Go Yankees!
