One would imagine that a three hour flight to watch a game that doesn't count for anything would not be much of a thrill for a life-long Yankee fan who longs for the pressure-filled contests of late September. But to the contrary, my first trip to Legends Field was both exciting and memorable from beginning to end.
I couldn't believe what I was feeling as our hotel shuttle appoached One Steinbrenner Way (that's right, he named the street after himself; and this is why I love this man). It was the same feeling I had when I was seven years old and my parents were driving me to my first Yankee game. Goosebumps. I had goosebumps in 85 degree heat. The shuttle let us off right in front of Legends Field, and I was awestruck. I say "we" because I was accompanied by the First Lady of the Fowl Balls empire, my beautiful girlfriend. So, as you may imagine, I was doing my best to play it cool and avoid her finding out that I am a complete dork; this lasted for about seven minutes.
The first thing we saw as we got off the bus was a grass area that displayed the numbers that have been retired throughout Yankee history. To be able to see these up close without having to show up at the stadium four hours early so you can get into monument park was amazing. Though it was incredibly challenging, I resisted the urge to take a picture of each one with my digital camera in front of the First Lady. It was at this point that she informed me that she had to powder her nose, so I reluctantly waited for her to return as I watched a few of the pitchers that the Yankees had in camp from a distance as they got their tossing in on an adjacent field. My keen knowledge recognized Mike Mussina, Carl Pavano, Brian Bruney, and Chien-Ming Wang. When the First Lady returned, I tried not to rip her arm out of the socket to get a closer look. I watched intently through a chain link fence as the group of pitchers got loose, and then it happened. As Pavano finished his session and started walking toward our piece of fence, it happened; the exchange that follows is an exact account of the conversation that took place between myself and the First Lady:
FL - "Who is that"
JD - "Carl Pavano"
FL - "He's hot!"
JD - "No he isn't, hes a pussy"
FL - "Let's go get his autograph"At first I was aphalled that she had the nerve to comment about Pavano, of all people. Then I saw an opening: if we DID get his autograph, I could go completely fruitcake fanboy and she would think it was her idea all along! As we ran, yes, ran, to the Clubhouse store, I was thankful that the Yankees signed Pavano for the first time. I bought a 5x7 aerial photo of Legends Field and a Sharpie marker, and we headed back to the fence. Carl was gone, but there were now others signing by the fence, and more pitchers were throwing than before. (
Sidenote: as I was watching the second wave of pitchers throw, something struck me; Mike Myers was throwing overhand while he was tossing. WHAT THE HELL? Do what the Yankees pay you to do while you are on their time. Throw sidearm asshole.) Anyways, the Frst Lady and I proceeded to work a two-man game that Stockton and Malone would be proud of. We seemlessly transitioned between autograph seeker and photographer, making several pristine handoffs in the process. When all was said and done, we had obtained signatures from Scott Proctor, Darrell Rasner, and prospect Mark Melancon along with multiple pictures of each. Whatever coolness I maintained when we got to the stadium was now completely shot to shit.
By the time we entered the stadium, I had my camera bag strapped across my chest like Indiana Jones, looking like a complete douche. The inside of Legends field is completely breathetaking. Just like its Bronx counterpart, it has what looks to be the greenest grass in with world, along with the same trademark facade of the House that Ruth Built. I truly hope that the players on the Tampa Yankees are aware of how priveledged they are, because I have been to some complete crap holes in my Minor League travels.
After we took it all in, it was time to watch baseball. In the first inning, the First Lady had the quote of the afternoon:
FL - "I miss Yankee Stadium. These fans are boring. It's like there is a mass going on"After I had a nice giggle, I explained that Yankee fans really don't give a shit about spring training: it's just an opportunity to get better seats thatn you can afford up north.
Ok, now some analysis. Kei Igawa started the game, and I am less than thrilled that the Yankees have put so much stock in him. Once again, his stat line was not an eyesore, but it just did not tell the whole story. Igawa was missing spots by feet rather than inches, nearly dislocating Jorge Posada's shoulder on several pitches. Mariano Rivera threw a perfect inning, looking sharp as always. The highlight of the day (for me, anyway) was watching newly annointed Yankee Josh Phelps dril his fourth home run of the spring over the left field wall. Though it may be disappointing, that is all the baseball there was to talk about on this day. After all, it is spring training and as a true Yankee fan, I didn't give a shit about what went on on the field. The game ended in a 3-3 tie for Christ's sakes.
The afternoon ended with me taking a picture of every retired number in front of the stadium. Not only did the First Lady not call me gay, she even asked someone to take a picture of the two of us in front of Mattingly's number 23. Looks like this one's a keeper, folks.
Posts
