The House That Ruth Built - Part I

The new baseball season recently kicked off, officially ushering in Yankee Stadium's final year of use. Like many, I am curious to see how the new billion dollar stadium in the Bronx is going to turn out, but I will be sad to see the rich history and tradition of this classic park get leveled. So I thought it appropriate to take the time and record some of my favorite memories of visiting "The House That Ruth Built."

"The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball..."

My fascination with baseball started in 1988. This was the first year I played in Little League, and the first season I remember watching the World Series. I also got my first pack of baseball cards at a friend's birthday party. The Mets and A's both made early bids for my loyalties, but instead I was drawn to the Yankees, who, at the time, featured the likes of Jesse Barfield, Roberto Kelly, Alvaro Espinoza, and Steve Balboni. As you might have guessed, with a Murderer's Row like that, these Yankees were terrible, but that didn't seem to phase me much.

By 1989, my love for the game and the Yankees had evolved into a full-blown obsession. I could often be seen wearing some combination of a Yankee hat, shirt and/or wristbands. I also wore sweatpants that I pulled up to my knees to show off my pulled-up socks, you know, just like the real ballplayers did. I watched every possible game that was broadcast on TV, and frequently fell asleep to the soothing sounds of Phil Rizzuto's play-by-play on the radio. "Holy cow!"

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

In June of the '89 season, my Dad was given some tickets to a game, so my parents took my brother and I into New York to see the Yankees take on the White Sox. This was my first professional sporting event of any kind, and I very clearly remember walking through the tunnel, and into the immensity of the stadium—the endless rows of seats, the green grass, the bright lights. My nine year old eyes were wide with awe.

After we took our seats, my excitement got the better of me as I took too big of a bite out of my hot dog and nearly choked. I had brought my baseball mitt along with the hopes of snagging a foul ball, but I was disappointed to discover that our entire section, which was right behind home plate, was covered by a safety net. I wasn't quite as disappointed when the net successfully stopped the first sizzling foul ball that shot back toward us.

Although the Yankees ended up losing, I remained absolutely entranced for the duration of the game. My parents probably broke the bank on the hot dogs, so an overpriced soda was out of the question. But as we left, I grabbed one of the souvenir cups that had been left behind by another fan. After running it through the dishwasher a time or two, it became a prized possession. And the illustration of Yankee Stadium on the front of the cup became the basis for many drawings.

We ventured into the big city for two more games while we still lived in New Jersey, and the Yankees lost twice more. But I was priviledged enough to witness a Steve Balboni dinger, and I got a stylish gold ring as a promotional give-away, which I still have. It even still fits on my pinky finger, but alas, I'm not really a pinky ring kind of guy.

Part II coming soon...