As I walked to the train station, I couldn’t help but notice a blind man making his way across the street. He had a little hop to his step while sipping on Eminem’s beverage of choice. Soon I realized, he’d probably need all the caffeine in that Mountain Dew. As I got to the steps about to take the train home, I looked over and saw the man meet with two friends. While the short exchange between the friends probably won’t change my whole life, it certainly changed my Monday commute home.
Friend: “You ready?”
Blind man: “Yeah, I can’t wait to ’see’ the Stadium”
I paused. Stopped dead in my tracks. Then I started thinking about how a game would be if you couldn’t see it. If you could only feel the cool night breeze. If you could only smell the grass, the hot dogs, the $9 garlic fries. If you could only touch the concrete Colisseum. If you could only hear the cheers, the boos, the PA announcer. If you could only hear that distinct crack of the bat when it’s a goner.
It was then I realized.
Sometimes, there just aren’t enough home runs hit in the new Yankee Stadium.
June 9th, 2009 at 1:21 am
Love your work, senor.
June 9th, 2009 at 1:37 am
Oh, how you wax poetic, PTP.
But this truly captures the very essence of the game that draws me back every spring.
Looking forward to more garlic fries (and home runs) this Friday in game one of the Subway Series.
(And look for a foody's budget guide to Yankee Stadium. Coming soon!)
June 9th, 2009 at 3:34 am
hahhaa $9 garlic fries. ptp, you always have these great subtle bits of humor in your posts. like alliterations aside. hilarious.
June 9th, 2009 at 3:40 am
my balls jingle like a lot of keys even deaf bitches say hi to me