In the 5th inning, a familiar horn riff and disco beat kicked in as the grounds crew danced across the field. My eyes welled up in tears. What’s that word... verklempt?
I was thinking of the first time the grounds crew ever did their now-legendary YMCA dance. I was sitting next to my dad 12 years ago, on April 9, 1996. Andy Pettitte pitched against KC in a snow storm. Because of the blizzard, Steinbrenner gave us tickets for another game that May. And that night, I took my four-year old son and together we watched Doc Gooden pitch a no hitter.
Today, I sat with my wife and kids watching a lackluster 7-1 loss, overcome by a sense of nostalgia I hadn’t expected. This was the last time I was ever going to be in Yankee Stadium. My mind raced... the games I had seen... where I was sitting. But most of all, who shared the experience with me.
The background sound at a baseball same is unmistakable, unlike the noise you hear at football or basketball. In between the jovial "beeah heeah" there is a loud, constant din. It’s the sound of relationships. Fathers and sons. Neighborhood pals. Brothers. And that’s why baseball memories are like no other.
One of my first memories in life is of Yankee Stadium. Sitting down the first base line with my dad and his father. Mickey Mantle was playing first and the Yankees were like 20 games behind Detroit. My dad spoke of a team that was a dynasty, but it would be many years before I would see a winning season.
I don’t have many memories of my childhood, but we always looked forward to bat day, one of the rare sell-out crowds in those days. They gave us kids real bats (they wouldn’t consider arming us like that today) signed by a Yankee. But somehow, the Bobby Murcer bat I longed for went to someone else, and I had to settle for Danny Cater (again).
Games that stand out: I remember getting my sweatshirt signed by Yankee GM Lee McPhail, who was among the 800 or so people sitting in the upper deck during the summer of 1972. I remember my dad diving into a crowd in the lower deck of right field, tearing a hole in his slacks, but coming out with the ball in his hands.
I remember my mom turning to my older brother and I during a 1976 game against the Red Sox "What are they all cheering?" she asked. Little did I know, twenty+ years later, one of the first phrases spoken by my little girl would be "Boston Sucks".
I sort of remember my 19-year old brother taking me and two of my high school friends to a double header against Cleveland. That was back in the day when the tall boys cost a fraction of the $8.50 they charge today. Catfish Hunter pitched the opener. I have no recall of the second game.
I saw Craig Nettles dive and Thurman Munson smirk. Don Mattingly hit doubles seemingly every time he came to bat. I saw Jeter rush in and back hand a ball to beat the A’s in a playoff game. I saw my wife jump for joy as Charlie Hayes cradled a pop up in his glove and the Yankees won in 1996.
And today, I sat there with my family. My wife and three kids. My last time in Yankee Stadium. And I’ll remember this game, too.