Tag Archives: yankee stadium

The Hunt for Douche October

Bro, do you like the new Axe? I heard chicks dig it when you spray it on your junk, but it kinda hurts my pee-hole….OH SHIT, THERE’S A BALL COMIN RIGHT THIS WAY! I GOT IT! I GOT IT! YO LA GOT IT, BRO!

canohr.jpgHey, did you see that?! I snatched it right outta that outfielder’s glove! Serves ya right, you stupid fuckin world class athlete! Hey you, Chico, whatever your name is–this is you!

YankeesFanDouche.gifYou’re all like, “Duh, lookit me tryna catch a ball while someone grabs my glove!” What an asshole! Go back to Texas, so you can then go back to Mexico or wherever the fuck you’re from!

Bro, high five. Totally burned that guy. That’ll teach him to come to the cathedral of baseball and think he can win a game. Too many ghosts here, bro. That wasn’t me who grabbed the ball outta his hands, that was the spirit of Ruth and DiMaggio and Mantle. But the thing where I did the jerkoff motion right in his face, that was totally me.

Wait, the Rangers are up 2-1 now? Fuck, let’s get outta here, this shit blows…whoah, the Yanks are back on top? FUCK YEAH! LET’S-GO-YAN-KEES! NEVER GIVE UP! BURNETT, YOU ARE A BEAST!

Jeter, why’d you hit your triple to center field? Shoulda hit it out here to right. I got a car battery under the seat, totally woulda beaned that stupid outfielder. He’d be all like, “Duh, I can’t catch the ball cuz my skull was crushed by a Duralast!”

Whoah, did that fan keep Gardner from grabbing a foul ball by the third base stands. YOU GOTTA REVIEW THAT, UMPS! WHAT THE FUCK! THAT COULD BE SOME RED SOX FAN DOWN THERE! Just some more anti-Yankee media bias, bro. Unbelievable!

Hey, wait a minute, who hit that home run? Bengie Molina? Never heard of him. I’ve been a Yankee fan since 1998 and that name does not ring a bell. UMPS, MAKE SURE HE’S REAL AND NOT A SOPHISTICED HOLOGRAM! YEAH, YOU LEAVE THE MOUND NOW, BURNETT, YOU FUCKIN HUMP!

Alright, now Joba’s in. He’s gonna right right the ship…ARE YOU FUCKIN KIDDIN ME?! YOU FUCKIN SUCK, JOBA, YOU FAT PIECE OF SHIT!

Bro, I’m out. This team has got no heart. No guts. They don’t see it through to the end like the old Yankee teams did. You wanna come with? I’m probably gonna stop at that one Hess station on the way home and abuse the African guys who pump the gas.

At least it’s football season. Got tickets for Giants-Cowboys in a coupla weeks. You’ll never guess what I’m gonna yell at Tony Romo…

Yeah, that’s right. Who told you?! WHO TOLD YOU MY HILARIOUS TONY ROMO ZINGER?!

*crush*

Bro, I’m sorry I had to smash you in the face with a car battery. I was emotional. It was the ghosts. If he was in my shoes, Jim Leyritz woulda done the same thing.

The New Yankee Stadium: Championship Shell, No Creamy Nougat Center

yankeestadium.jpgI recently watched House of Steinbrenner, one of ESPN’s 30 for 30 documentaries directed by Barbara Kopple. It wasn’t remotely as powerful as Kopple’s Harlan County U.S.A., which is a bit of an unfair comparison, since the latter is a chronicle of a bloody clash between Kentucky mine workers wanting to unionize and Big Coal’s hired thugs, and one of the most gut-wrenching docs you’ll ever see. And yet, I was surprised by how affected I was by House of Steinbrenner.* Early in the film, you see fans walking around Yankee Stadium during its last game, knowing this will be their last trip there, tears in their eyes. I was moved by it, and not just in an empathic way. I was surprised by how much of Yankee Stadium, as seen in the movie, was familiar to me.

* I was also baffled by why Kopple seemed to be given a hard time by the Yankees brass in the film, particularly Hal Steinbrenner, even though her movie was basically a love letter to the team and the stadium. Perhaps because, despite being a devoted Yankees fan, she dared to admit that Hal’s dad drove the team into a ditch in the 80s.

I don’t talk about it too much, but my mom became a Jehovah’s Witness when I was a kid. Aside from making you go to “Kingdom Hall” three times a week, there are also two small, local conventions a year that take up a weekend, and another ginormous convention once a year. For many years, this ginormous convention was held at Yankee Stadium. In the summer. This stems from the Biblical precept that being even slightly comfortable is sinful.

Somehow, we always managed to snag seats in the shady mezzanine. Pity the poor folks stuck with upper deck seats for three days of biblical reenactments and two-hour speeches on what the prophet Ezekiel means for us today. At the time, my favorite book was The Sporting News’ Take Me Out to the Ballpark, a collection of the history of various stadiums past and present, each one preceded by a detailed illustration of the park and its notable heroes. So rather than take notes on the sermons, as I was supposed to do, I’d sketch the outfield wall of Yankee Stadium. All of its ads for French’s Mustard and Utz potato chips, the scoreboard, and even the 4 train as it zipped past the gap between the right field stands and the bleachers.

At lunchtime, we’d wade through the sweltering stadium corridors to get chicken sandwiches and juice, the food tables smashed against shuttered concession stands and dusty ads for un-Christ-like products like Budweiser and the New York Lottery. Then we’d stroll the local streets, browse through the sports shops on 161st Street (a real treat for a budding baseball nerd), and get some ice from one of the Bronx’s ubiquitous Coco Helado carts.

So as I watched House of Steinbrenner, and saw fans filing through the royal blue hallways, a melancholy feeling washed over me. Seeing the goopy, pitted paint, those cramped, low-ceilinged corridors behind the stands, those slatted metal windows, and knowing they weren’t there anymore–the absence really hit me.

I saw this just before visiting the new Yankee Stadium. I went there expecting to have one of two reactions: either to be turned off by its ostentation and the team’s huge monuments to themselves, or to be grudgingly impressed. I didn’t expect the reaction I wound up having, which was basically: Oh, this again?
Continue reading The New Yankee Stadium: Championship Shell, No Creamy Nougat Center

“Classic” Scratchbomb: Win George Steinbrenner’s Rep

nypostboss.jpgThe pic to your right is one of the banner headlines for the NY Post sports section this morning. George Steinbrenner visiting the Yankees in Tampa is, apparently, a huge deal. And Joba Chamberlain’s eight great innings against the Rays last night was not another superb outing from a possibly emerging ace. Nope, it was a tribute to The Boss.

I was all set to write some angry piece, complaining about George Steinbrenner becoming this beloved, benevolent figure, when I can vividly remember him being completely reviled by Yankees fans everywhere when I was growing up. Then I remembered that I already wrote such a piece last year, when the All Star Game prompted some truly emabrrassing and history-deficient Stein-Love. That post follows after the jump. (Original post here.)

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Continue reading “Classic” Scratchbomb: Win George Steinbrenner’s Rep

Win George Steinbrenner’s Rep

I wasn’t too upset about the Yankee Love Fest that was Fox’s coverage of OMG THE LAST ALL STAR GAME AT YANKEE STADIUM. I mean, yeah, it was completely over the top and so full of fake, sepia-toned wistfulness it would make Ken Burns retch.

But the months and months of hype leading up to it meant you knew it was gonna be like that. If you insisted on watching the All Star Game, knowing full well it was going to be 4 hours of Joe Buck bending over and spreading for the Pinstripe Bullet, you really have no right to complain about it.

I did wish, however, that more attention had been paid to the two following details.

1) Yankee Stadium hasn’t been condemned. It’s not about to turn into dust. It’s old and outdated, but the Yankees could continue to play there if they really wanted to. So essentially, this “celebration” of the last year at Yankee Stadium is really a celebration of the Yankees building a billion dollar monument to themselves–with more than half of that money coming from city bonds, while the team tries and hold New York over a barrel for even more public funds to complete it.

1a) Oh, and they destroyed one of the few public parks in their Bronx neighborhood in order to do it. The team insists that they’ll pay to replace it with another public park, but that new park will be located on the other side of the Deegan. So go fuck yourselves, local residents, we need that space for a Hard Rock Café!

2) When the history of Yankee Stadium is rehashed by nostalgia junkie writers, they inevitably bring up Ruth, DiMaggio, Mantle, and so on. They seldom mention the fact that the current Yankee Stadium shares almost nothing with the Yankee Stadium that those legends played in, except for the name. The Stadium received an enormous makeover in the early 70s (totally publicly funded, by the way), to add a few seats and completely drain it of all idiosyncracies and charm. If you see pictures of the original version, it looks more like Ebbets Field or the old Tiger Stadium, a classic pre-war ballpark. The redesigned version that opened in 1976 looks like Shea Stadium in navy blue (which even the most ardent Mets fan will tell you is a bad thing). So when people lament the impending loss of the House that Ruth Built, guess what? That place has already been gone
for over 30 years.

But again, the full-press Yankee love was hardly surprising. What I did find surprising was the unbridled worship of George Steinbrenner that came along with it. During the broadcast, Joe Buck went out of his way to spend an entire inning talking about how great Steinbrenner was, and how he deserves to be in the Hall of Fame. Tim McCarver, who I think might now be legally retarded, agreed with him, as if Big Stein was a much a no-brainer HOF vote as Mariano Rivera.

Today’s NY papers were all pretty much in line with this POV, praising Steinbrenner and his winning winningness, and his ability to have his team’s stadium host an All Star Game. Midget Mike Lupica’s column was typical of the lot, chronicling George’s trip onto the Yankee Stadium field as if it was Caesar crossing the Rubicon.

At this point, I have to rub my eyes and blurt a Hanna Barbera-ish “ah-geda-ah-geda-HUH?” Because apparently I blinked some time in the last 15 years or so, and it must have been at the exact second someone switched the setting on George Steinbrenner’s Public Opinion to Adoring Adulation. Because for as long as I’ve been alive, it was set at either Derision, Disgust, or Searing Hatred.

Continue reading Win George Steinbrenner’s Rep