Mickey Mantle – Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc.

Frozen Water

And A Little Class at the Stadium

By Mitchell Slepian

Early this morning, before Old Timer’s Day (OTD), I was doing my usual walk around Macombs Dam Park. That’s the park built in the footprint of the House that Ruth built. I have been to almost every OTD since 1977 or 1978. I stroll the park before every game I attend. I usually run a few miles on the track. Today I did three. My current record is five. Sometimes I do not run all my miles.

At prior OTD’s, I remember seeing The Clipper (Joe DiMaggio), the Mick (Mickey Mantle), Scooter (Phil Rizzuto), The Chairman of the Board (Whitey, Ford), all Hall of Famers that I never saw when they played official ballgames. I saw modern day Old Timers such as Mr. October (Reggie Jackson), The Gator (Ron Guidry), Paul O’Neil, and Mariano Rivera (he got hurt during today’s game) play. I wish The Captain (Derek Jeter) had shown today. After all, we were celebrating the 25th anniversary of defeating the Mutts (Mets) in the World Series. That night, Jeter became the first MLB player to be named All-Star Game and World Series MVP in the same season. He still is. A lot of good things happened to me that day. The victory was the crowning moment.

Today was warm. I need to be hydrated. Some people know of my kidney stone issue. I have “enjoyed” four of them—maybe more. I bought a giant bottle of water from the street vendor near the Metro-North Railroad Station in the park. Thank you, George (Steinbrenner), for getting that station built. I don’t take this train. But people need every option to get to 161 Street. When they built the original station, the Yankees made sure the subway went up there. The Yankees do want people to get to their holy stadium.

The vendor asked me if I wanted a cold bottle. I said, “Do whatever you can do.” The vendor gave me a bottle that was frozen solid. I walked around with it and smashed it against the wall at the railroad station. I broke the ice. Most of it. For some strange reason, the bottle didn’t burst open and saturate me. Things like that usually happen to me.

He saw me smashing the bottle. He yelled, “My friend, come here.” He was holding another bottle. I thought he was gonna give it to me. He said, “Let me see your bottle.” My bottle was open, and he started pouring water from his bottle into mine. The water began to melt. He said, “This is my bottle. But I didn’t drink from it.” Did I trust him?

I kept walking and went to the spot where the Old Timers usually entered the stadium. Years ago, pre-COVID, they emptied the bus and we all stood in awe as Ron Guidry helped the older people, such as Don Larsen and the Chairman, get off the bus.

Today, I saw Jorge Posada (He should be in Cooperstown) pull up and drive into the Stadium. Jack Cury, YES Network broadcaster, exited a car and started walking in. Many people approached him and asked for autographs. He signed everyone’s baseballs, papers, and other items. He shook lots of hands. He looked at me and said, “Do you need anything from me?” I said “How about a picture. He smiled and said, “Let’s do it.” I told him how much I’ve loved his books, and I have them all on my Kindle. He said, I have another one coming out soon. I said, “I will buy it.” We shook hands and he walked into the Stadium. He always wears nice suits (Today, he was wearing Khakis and a YES pique polo shirt). Someone yelled, “No suit?” He waved his arms and laughed. He probably has his wardrobe in his office. I doubt he stuffed it in his backpack. I have a few backpacks and have been made fun of for carrying them forever. Curry showed so much class.

A bus pulled up and we all stared out. We were hoping that today’s OTD participants, Constantino (Tino) Martinez, Andy Pettitte, Bernie Williams (He should be in Cooperstown), El Duque (Orlando Hernandez), Joe Torre, and others would get off and let us take pictures and sign stuff. Years ago, that happened. Most of those guys were still playing at that time. The bus pulled into the Stadium lot. Who knows who was on it? Two empty buses followed.

I had enough of waiting and went to the Clear line for my usual expedited entry. I passed through security at rapid speed. I always do. The woman in front of me did as well. Security pointed us to the ticket scanning line. She did not have a ticket. The man scanning the tickets told her she couldn’t go in. She was showing a screenshot of a ticket. There’s a huge sign saying you need your official e-ticket to get in. The website says the same thing. The employee kept saying she couldn’t go in and showed her how her ticket would not scan. He nodded towards security. She screamed, she’s a season ticket holder and does this every day. She tried to push her way in and was escorted out. In 2005, I saw something similar at Madison Square Garden when I entered to see U2. Two kids had tickets. They were fake. They screamed at security that they had just paid a man $400 each on the street for these seats, and the man swore they were real. They thought they should be let in. They weren’t. They were forced to exit.

While this woman was throwing her tantrum, the guy scanned my legitimate ticket and went in. This woman showed no class.

As for my frozen water bottle, I decided to let it go. Go into the trash can, that is. A waste of $3. No big deal. I found a woman selling small ones for $1. I bought and sipped it. We won today. I got transferred back to an essential winning season. All was well.

What’s Up, Doc?

How to Find a Doctor?

By Mitchell Slepian

Until you glanced at the subheader, I bet you thought I was writing about that rascally rabbit, Bugs Bunny. Well, finding a doctor could be like walking into the world of Looney Tunes. It can be a trick or treat.

When Doctors are Picked for You

Sometimes, doctors are picked for us. Sometimes not. Sometimes, we pick the right physician and get well. Sometimes, we get sicker than before we went for our examination. When doctors are picked for us, I mean when you’re a kid, and mom brings you to the doctor. My mom (full disclosure: she’s a retired RN) always scheduled appointments for me. Nothing was wrong. She was known as a holiday or weekend ruiner. If we had a holiday weekend, I wound up at the pediatrician, the dentist, or the ophthalmologist.

Doctors are picked for you when you walk into or are flown to the ER. You don’t have a choice. You are stuck with the ER docs. I have done it a few times. My first kidney stone (I’ve had four) was in May 2013. I went to the ER. The doctor was fine. My mom liked her. That was a plus. I remember her calling her friend, another retired RN and saying this doctor and treatment seems fine.

Picking a Doctor Recommend on the Hospital’s Discharge Sheet

After kidney stone number one, I walked out of the hospital feeling somewhat better from the morphine and Toradol. I thought they said tortellini not Toradol. I guess I wanted good food. In hand was a list of urologists. The next day, I called the first one on the list. At the time, he was about a ten-minute walk from my residence. He was very nice and knew what he was doing. A few weeks later, he performed the procedure to remove the stone. My mom liked him.

When a Doctor Picked for You Might Be Clueless

About a decade later, I got stone number two. It was over Rosh Hashanah. I walked home from a nice lunch and felt sick. My mind flashed back to my first stone. I called Mom. She knew something was wrong since I was calling on a holy day. I told her what was happening and said I would shower and try to sleep. If I am still feeling sick after an hour, I will head off to the ER. It lasted about 30 minutes until I headed to the hospital. I noticed an orthodox woman being triaged a few stations next to mine. It’s a great way to start the head of the year. The doctor prescribed a painkiller for me to pick up at CVS, not Tamsulosin (Flomax), the drug used to treat kidney stones. Of course, I did a CT scan. I have had many. The radiologist reported two nodes in my lungs. The ER doctor told me about this and said it was a sign I probably had lung cancer, and I needed to get it checked.

When Mom Picks the Doctor

I freaked out about the possibility I had lung cancer. I called Mom. She said I did not and to call the urologist. I called his office, they were shocked the doctor didn’t prescribe Tamsulosin. I went to see him and got the prescription. Sadly, he is now two subway trains or an Uber away from me.

My mom said she knew a pulmonologist and had no worries that I had lung cancer. I went to see him. I was decked out in my Yankee apparel. He’s a fan of the Bronx Bombers. He looked at the hospital CT scan. He said, here’s your kidney stone. That’s for your urologist. Here’s part of your lungs. Here are the nodes. He noted since it was an abdominal scan, it didn’t show my full lungs, and the ER doctor should have never said anything about cancer, particularly because only a portion of my lungs were on the scan. He prescribed another CT scan. It showed nothing. We briefly chatted about Mickey Mantle and that was it.

Doctor My Eyes

Maybe Jackson Browne is singing about me? I hope the doctors who are doctoring my eyes aren’t running on empty. I have been wearing glasses since I was about five. So, my eyes needed to be doctored. My first ophthalmologist was the one my dad went to. He was fine. I had a few different eye doctors over the years. Most were fine. Eventually, I found one my mom knew; he was the best. I went to him for many years until he was forced to retire early due to a medical condition. Years ago, I had a vision issue, and he spent quite a bit of time on the phone with my mom, walking her through what needed to be done. I wouldn’t have understood a word they said. All worked out well.

After his retirement, the doctor who took over his practice was a colorful and fun character. No problems. I liked him. The only problem was I moved, and heading to his office from my new location took too long. I found someone near my former midtown office. He was decent. I needed an eye drop prescription filled. He said he’d do it right away. Over a month later, I was still waiting. I called his office regularly and was told they were working on it. Eventually, I was able to stroll into Walgreens and get the eye drops.

A former friend of my mom’s, a general practitioner, suggested I write a review on Zocdoc. I did. Nearly two years later, I walked into his office for an exam. His assistant dilated my eyes. Then he came and complained to me about the review and said he could do this exam if I wanted. But he would never see me again. I told him, you already dilated my eyes it would have made more sense to call me before the appointment and cancel. He just looked at me. I did the exam. All was well.

A few years later, I went to another ophthalmologist. He did a visual field and said my pressure was very high. He wanted to do surgery. I checked with other eye physicians. They said it was not high. The number was about two points below what’s considered high. I now go to one of my friends for eye exams. We do the exam and talk about a special swimming hole that no longer exists in our beloved summer camp. If you want to see it in your eyes, you need to look carefully. That may not be what Peter Gabriel meant in his tune. But be careful.

A Doctor Who Bilks the Elderly and Others

I had back pain. It has happened. Thankfully, not in many years. I hope I am not jinxing myself. I went to a general practitioner that I knew. She did a physical and decided I had high blood pressure. I didn’t. Like the visual field, the numbers were a few points below high BP and could have gone either way. She wanted me on all sorts of meds and sent me for tests. I didn’t take the meds. I did one of the tests. It showed nothing. I went from my office to Cornell Medical Center on a very wet day. I was so drenched I had to go to the Gap and buy a new outfit to return to work.

Here’s another one of her foul ups. She was supposed to send my records to the hospital before my kidney stone procedure. The hospital and urologist requested them. She never did. She said she forgot. I once told this story to another doctor. She said, I shouldn’t ask this, but it is…? I said yes. She said the doctor is known for these problems and for messing around with overbilling the elderly. Her Zocdoc reviews were loaded with stories. I didn’t write one. After my experience with the eye doctor, I decided I would never write a review again. I could write many great reviews and a few bad ones. BTW, Zocdoc has been very helpful when picking a physician and making an appointment. Some of the docs have been awful. A few have been fine.

Getting Your Diet Right

Last August, kidney stone number four made me cancel my vacation to Milan. I got my money back and plan to go. But I have been freaking out since August 2024. I have been reading nonstop the flyers from the urologist on proper dieting to prevent stones. I visit legit sites like the American Urological Association, Mayo Clinic, and the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Health. I do not trust Dr. Google or social media for medical advice. I decided to see a dietician. I did it years ago and did OK. I found one on Zocdoc, and the hell started. I misread her profile and mistook MS for MD. I guess I need to doctor my eyes a little more.

I did three sessions and ran. The first session was basic. She told me to download an app to take images of what I was eating. One night before attending the NY Philharmonic, I went to PJ Clarke’s and had their burger and fries with a Stella. She’s the best woman out there. One day I need to go to Belgium to see her birthplace. I told her about other things I eat. Mind you, I am controlled and eat a very low sugar diet and stay away from salt as much as possible. All the good things are all the bad things. She flipped out that I went to Clarke’s. The next session she was still attacking the place. She said her parents live near Lincoln Center, and she is very familiar with the restaurant. She must have had bad service, didn’t like her meal, or had a bad date at this venue. She wanted me to buy vitamins from some vitamin sales company she gets a commission from. I did not.

She said I should do blood work to help her figure out my diet. I said OK. She got the results, which were fine. Some items were borderline. But not high. Basically, from what the RNs and MDs I know that I sent it to say, you have nothing to worry about. The dietician also said she forgot to ask them to test for a few things. But the labs just do that anyway. So, it doesn’t matter that I forgot. Those items were not included from the lab. The medical professionals I spoke to say the lab will only test what’s on the prescription. She told me I was diabetic. She also said I had nonalcoholic liver disease and needed a liver test. Then she said she is an elite runner and a trainer and tried to sell me her services. This nut thought I was going to have lung failure. That’s when I said goodbye.

The scary thing is she billed my health care provider $2600 per session. They paid her $520. Therefore, she made about $1600 for around two hours’ worth of work. Is she stupid? As a dietician, she is the dumbest of the dumb. Her eating recommendations conflicted with what the urologist said. Her scamming was off the charts. Thankfully I did not fall for it. She said, I needed to see her for at least a year to correct my lung, liver and other issues.

The bottom line is to stay healthy. Jumping back to Peter Gabriel, picking a doctor can be like playing games without frontiers.

The Stadium

2009

At around 10:00 a.m. I hopped on the R to 59^th and Lex. I transferred to the 4 and got off at 161^st Street. As we approached 161^st, people cheered as the subway pulled into the station and looked out the subway car’s window, at the new stadium. It glittered brighter than gold.

I was looking out the other window and saw the House that Ruth Built. My eyes were teary, as I saw an empty field. Dirt was everywhere. There was no grass, no pitcher’s mound, no bases, and no batter’s box.

I exited the station and immediately walked to the old stadium. I was far from the only fan doing this. We all put our hands on it and walked around it. Parts of it were boarded up. I shot many pix. I leaned against the wall and davened (prayed). Yeah, I know I broke the rules today. I am not always good. Yes, I was in Shul last night. But today I was standing in front of a different Shul.

I looked at the wall by the now closed Gate 2 and said the Shema. My mind drifted. I imagined what it must have been like when we had the temple. One day, it will be rebuilt. One day the Stadium will meet a wrecking ball. Right now it is the holiest fully standing structure on the planet.

I crossed the street and walked into the new stadium. It is overwhelming. It feels like you’re walking into Disney World or the Mall of America. The place is super clean and loaded with stores, eateries, bars and pictures of the greats, Gehrig, Ruth, Mantle, Jackson, DiMaggio, Berra, Munson and the list goes on. After all, no team has had better players than the Yanks. Cooperstown was built for them. In fact, 70 years ago today was when the greatest player in the history of baseball and well, in the history of sports took himself out of the lineup.

I bought my yearbook and program. I walked over to the store and bought some stuff. Yeah, I need to exchange the shorts tomorrow. No big deal. I need a different size.

I wandered toward Monument Park. For some reason, it was closed. I got on the line for the museum. It was super long. So I got off and walked around the stadium. It is beautiful. I looked out at the field and saw all the usual ads, Budweiser, Canon, MasterCard, and MetLife. Of course, the MetLife ad had a picture of the greatest shortstop of all time, Snoopy in his uniform.

I went to my seat, which was in the Grandstand section. In other words, super nose bleeds seats. It is even higher than the nose bleeds in the ghost across the street. The field looks nice. They played all the same music. If only they could find something different to play than Cotton Eye Joe. That song is so tired. The way the Yankees played today, they should have played Everybody Hurts, by R.E.M. or Boys Don’t Cry, by The Cure. I wanted to cry.

The stadium has a nice feel, but something is missing. I guess what’s missing is the classic feel empty, but in many ways full structure across the street had. The new stadium is beautiful and feels nice. However, it just doesn’t have the feel of the House that Ruth Built, where I saw Hall of Famers, Reggie “Mr. October” Jackson and Rich “Goose” Gossage play and of course future Hall of Famers, Derek Jeter, and Mariano Rivera play. Maybe one day it will have a classic feel. Jeter and Rivera will play for a few more years in the new building. Hopefully, when Torre goes into Cooperstown he goes in as a Yankee. I can’t see him going in for any other team.

I am sure we will produce more Hall of Famers in the years to come. But ultimately, my heart will always be with the most historic sports stadium in the history of the world.

I exited the stadium and walked across the street and put my head against the wall of the original Stadium. The two people standing there said, “Do you miss it”? I responded,” Yes, the new stadium is nice, but this is where baseball belongs”. They agreed. I walked to the 4 and went home.

I’m sorry if I bored you. I know I will get some nasty comments. Most likely they will come from Rodney and the Douche. Of course, one of those people was the greatest scoutmaster on the planet and best camp leader ever. Of course, I understand he spends most of his time fetching honey. He did help shape my life in too many ways to count. The other is one of the coolest people I have ever met. A great guy to talk about sports, music, politics with and well, the world we live in and life in general.

Go Yankees!