What if The Yankees Played in Manhattan?

A couple weeks back during a trip in Chicago. I had the pleasure of hitting up both
A White Sox and a Cubs game in the span of 48 hours

The sentiment reminded me a lot of a little place called home.

At US Cellular Field, located in the South Side of Chicago, one of the worst areas in our country, fans were bitter. They were poorly dressed, sloppy and angry. But they loved their Sox. They truly did. They had an attachment to this team- that played in the absolute ghetto of Chicago- that was very admirable.

And boy did they Hate the Cubs.

I looked at my buddy, a long time Yankee fan but still a good guy, and he laughed:

"You would have been such a White Sox fan, Sip."

...................

Two nights later we went to Wrigley.

The air was similar, 77 degrees of beautiful Chicago Summer.

Me and my buddy JJ were told to make a right out of my buddy's apartment and make the first left on Sheffield Ave. then to walk about 2 miles and we would just hit Wrigley.

Easy enough.

So me and JJ began our adventure. He was decked out in a Ron Artest Kings jersey while Sip donned his usual blue top khacki shorts combo.

JJ, the interesting cat that he is, picked up a toothbrush and some toothpaste along the way to brush his teeth and sure enough, about 20 minutes later we hit Baseball Heaven.

It was ten blocks of bars and restaurants. Everyone with a cubs shirt on their back and an Ice Cold American Pilsner in their hand.

And NONE of these people were going to the game.

We quickly scalped some tickets for the bleachers passing what seemed to be thousands of people just hanging out in Wrigleyville for the game.

Did I mention this was a Tuesday?

After those ten or so blocks, out of no where sprung Wrigley Field. It had the atmosphere of a rock show, an electricity in the air that you feel for maybe a Yankees/Sox game or for Sip, a Coldplay concert.

And in we went.

Roughly 10,000 people line the bleachers of Wrigley Field. 10-15 rows of General Admission stands cover pretty much the entire outfield, save a smidge in Center Field for the Hitter's Eye and scoreboard.

Once I finally grabbed my seat, saved pleasantly for me by my buddy's buddy, I took a moment to breathe in that pleasant Wrigley Air.

I felt like Rudy the first time he stepped foot in Notre Dame Stadium.

This was baseball heaven.

Of the 10,000 in the bleachers, 9,900 were getting hammered. Pretty girls decked in Fukodome t-shirts, dudes with midwestern charm. These people were assholes yet so nice in the same way. They were the type of people that would clock you if you messed with their friend but would otherwise never lay a finger on you. It was a frat party for people a little too old to be in a frat.

The Cubs were playing my beloved Reds, still I didn't have the heart to be that asshole rooting for the road team.

So instead, I just enjoyed the atmosphere.

Maybe it was the perfect Chicago evening. Maybe it was the good people I was with. Maybe it was abundance of beers that I drank. Maybe it was all the pleasant and genuine traditions (read: the farthest thing from the Shea Stadium 8th inning Singalong Du jour)

Whatever it was, I was euphoric.

There was just something about the atmosphere at Wrigley Field that was different that all other sporting venues I had ever been to.

And it all stemmed from being in the heart of the city.

The energy of a major city with a big sports team smack in the middle. It was the garden in the 90's only it was a beautiful day and the skies were shining down on us.

I was supposed to hate this team.

They were the Yankees of their city.

They were the snobby, elite, pretentious Cubs fans.

I was a scrappy, gritty, Upper West Side Mets fan.

But I loved them. I loved everything about them. I had that feeling that we have all shared at one point in our life.

The game was 9-2 in the 8th inning.

But I never wanted that game to end.

......................................


Which leads me to the question that pained me ever since.

What if the Yankees played in Manhattan?

What if Yankee Stadium were a right, a quick left and a 20 minute walk from my apartment?

And what if the Mets still played in the charming pit that is Flushing, Queens?

..........................

Outside of the Mets, I have zero attachment to Queens.

I hate airports/flying/potential terror threats more than the next person.

I'm not the biggest tennis fan, though I will catch the occasional Federer/Nadal final.

I have never in my life been to a bar in Queens.

I'm not particulary fond of the Hamptons, so I don't even really have an excitement when I drive thru Queens.

Essentially, for me, the Mets play in China.

I've spent my whole life as a Manhannite.

I've seen Manhattan resurrect itself from the Gotham City that it was in the late 80's only to die again and become Sex And The City in the new millienium.

Hate it or love it, Manhattan is and always will be home.

So what if the Yankees were Manhattan's team?

To a certain extent, they already are, right.

Glitz, Glamour, Panash, $$$. These are the Yankees.

Celebrities of the game; The greatest players playing in the greatest city in the world.

They blast "New York, New York" at the end of games, sing "God Bless America" at the end of every 7th inning.

Our mayors root for them. Our movie stars root for them.

They are New York.

So what if they actually were my New York?

Its truly a blessing that the Yankees play in the Bronx. The Bronx was far enough away from where I grew up that my dad didn't have to make me a fan of their team.

But god only knows what would happen if they didn't.

Would Sip be singing YMCA?

Vaya,
Sip