"Signs of the Time" or "My Own Personal Apocalypse"

Ok, so maybe the title of this post is a little over the top, but for those of you who have followed along with this blog, you know my feelings about going to New York City. In the past there have been events that made me wish that I could suck it up, make the trip down and enjoy such rarities as the debut of Sufjan Stevens' first orchestral composition, the premier of Sigur Ros' movie, and even tapings of the Daily Show/Colbert Report. In the end, it turns out, all it took to actually get me down there: boredom.

As some of you may know, Bri flew out last week Saturday to move back to Minneapolis for the summer. After having Monday and Tuesday off from work, I was about ready to lose my mind with boredom, so when my work schedule opened up for Thursday, and a friend asked me if I wanted to drive down and see a Yankees game, I think I temporary blacked out and said "YES!" When I came back to my senses, I realized that I had just committed to waking up before 6 AM, driving 4+ hours, (culminating in driving across Manhattan) and then driving back to the same day, all in the name of watching a team that, in my mind, represents all that is evil in the world of baseball. Call me crazy, I will simply defend that boredom does strange things to people. Add to that the fact that I have only ever seen pro baseball in the Metrodome and you will understand that it was my duty as a lover of baseball to see the game played the way it was meant to, outside, in a truly historic stadium that is going to be torn down at the end of this season.

So, that said, I woke up bright and early Thursday morning and began my great adventure. To give a little context, the real purpose of this trip was to drop my friends wife off at MOMA for a conference. (To all of you who have never been to the "City", MOMA is the Museum of Modern Art.) My friend Peter, our driver/instigator for this trip had never actually driven in Manhattan, and had only been to NYC once before, but assured me that all would be well thanks to the onboard navigation system, and his understanding that you have be ok with a little vehicle to vehicle contact.

I managed to keep my rising fear, and questions of sanity in check for the better part of the drive. As we came up on the George Washington Bridge, my only thought was, "Huh, so this is the place they get all the EZ Pass information from to determine if somebody was in the City to commit a murder on all those Law and Order episodes I have been watching recently." Ironically, I began to realize that most of my reference points for the city were actually from Law and Order episodes, and my old family tradition of playing Monopoly.

We made it to MOMA without incident, then proceeded to head north. I began recognizing street names: Broadway, Park Place, Lexington Ave, 5th Ave (I could have made that last one up, I don't remember if I actually crossed it, it just sounds right.) Finally we parked near 87th st, hopped the #4 express to the Bronx and found ourselves outside Yankee Stadium.
Our seats were up high, but behind home plate, and let me tell you, there is nothing quite like seeing a baseball game outside while you are being dive bombed by pigeons. I am not kidding, the first time one of those suckers dove down from above my head towards the field, I jumped out of my seat a little bit. I am used to only paper airplanes and the occasional beach ball in these settings, not birds.
The game itself was quite good, the Yankees took and early lead, then the Blue Jays came back, then the Yankees made a mistake and the Jays took a decent lead. It all came down to the 9th with two outs, one man on and Jason Giambi at the plate. Caveat, I can't stand Jason Giambi. He may be the player I most despise in baseball. Some of it has to do with the team he plays for, some of it has to do with the way he carries himself, a lot has to do with that wicked creepy mustache he is sporting right now. Anywho, Giambi steps to the plate and proceeds to crush a ball to right field that manages to stay fair. A walk off home run. Many of you may criticize me for what I am about to say, some may never speak to me again, all I can say is this. When you are in Yankee stadium, watching one of the last 50 games that will ever be played there, understanding all of the history involved in that building and you see a walk-off home run with 2 outs, you stand up and cheer, not necessarily for the players involved, or the win, but for the fact that you just got to see one of the coolest things in baseball in a truly historic place.

We made it back down to Manhattan without much incident, and back to Ithaca before too late at night. I survived. And to top it off, I didn't hate it and the world didn't end. Now I have to face the fact that I have to go there again, because Brianna says that if I survived it once, I can survive it twice.