subway – Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc.

Yankee Stadium and Tradition

What Happens as You Get Older and Things Cause You to Update?

I follow a lot of traditions. Most are the ones I created myself. I created the first ones at the original Yankee Stadium, when I was 7. I have kept them wholeheartedly. I am very strict. But what happens when things in your life change? Do you keep the tradition, or do you update it to fit your needs?

So here it is. When I exit the 4 subway station, I go down the same flight of stairs and use only one of two turnstiles to exit. I alternate turnstiles at each game. Yes, I remember from the previous one. These days I walk through the park where the original stadium was situated.

Once I am in the Stadium there is much work to do. Before the first inning ends, I must eat a hot dog with mustard, a potato product, and finish a Pepsi. As for the potato product, a knish ranks at the top. But chips or fries will do. Not every stand sells knishes. That’s a shame. The kosher ones do. They are delicious. In the fifth inning, you need to eat peanuts. I never finish the bag. I have a bunch at the top and bottom of the fifth. I bring the bag home and finish. Often, I hand it to one of the people experiencing homelessness outside the stadium.

Current Stadium and Park Where the Old One Lived

Any flavor of ice cream is required in the sixth inning. It can be in a Yankee helmet cup, cone, regular cup, or an ice cream sandwich. Not enough vendors sell ice cream. The lines at the ones that do are too long. I usually go in the middle of the fifth to make sure I have it by the sixth. As for the brand, I am hoping for Good Humor, Mrs. Fields, or Häagen-Dazs. I will not get Ben & Jerry’s. That ice cream is disgusting. You are better off skipping it, and speaking of skipping it. Sometimes you must. It is not unusual for the machines to break down or they run out. That’s not my fault.

Once the 7^th inning starts, I can eat or drink whatever I want. They no longer sell beer after the 7^th inning. Once, I had one in the 7^th. I went with my cousins, and they bought me one for that inning. Anyway, the beer in Stan’s across the street from the real House that Ruth built is cheaper, and they have a better selection. Plus, Stan’s is like Cheers.

Over the last decade, probably longer, I have had less and less soda. It is not good for you because of the sugar, and it can irritate your bladder. As someone who has had four kidney stones, I am careful. Soda is at the top of the list of no-nos. Spinach is up there. But I have never seen it at the Stadium. I do miss both.

So, what to do? I buy the Pepsi and take a sip or two, and somehow it falls and spills on me. Or spills into the sink in the bathroom. I am too clean to let it spill on the floor in the stands. Sadly, too many people do. Water is the best thing to drink for bladder health. Heck, we all know it is the healthiest thing to drink. I have added water to my beverage mix. I sometimes drink it before the 7^th inning. I do not want to dehydrate. I do wish to overhydrate. I have had that problem.

So, as long as I follow as closely as possible, with minor medical adjustments, I believe I am staying within my traditions. By the way, when the game is over, I exit via a certain stairway and try to enter the 4 subway station through a specific entrance. However, I am not beholden to that.

Holy Places. The Places that Make You Feel at Peace.

Yankee Stadium, Coney Island, Ten Mile River Scout Camps and the Kotel

We all have places we visit that calm, energize, and bring peace and a sense of reason. They change over the years. Some get stronger. Some weaker. Some you eliminate.

For me, the top places include Yankee Stadium, Coney Island, Ten Mile River Scout Camps (TMR) and the Kotel (Western Wall). For the record, all of Israel does it and so do a few other camps. But TMR is at the top of the list.

How does this work? Well, it is different in each case. For example, as the 4 subway line pulls into 161^st – Yankee Stadium, I feel a certain charge. I stand up as it approaches the station and stand by the exit door. I always go down the same stairwell and alternate between two turnstiles, depending on which one I exit from. Then you see greatness – The Stadium. Yes, the original Stadium was far superior and brought a deeper feeling. But the new one has its merits and is growing on me. It has been since day one. I look at it in awe. And all is right with the world. I take a walk to the hallowed grounds where the original one sat and say a few prayers to win the World Series. Hasn’t happened in a while. Too long. But I try.

After I go through security and enter this holy building, I am ready. Of course, as the game goes on and if we start losing, the happy feelings turn to despair. But I keep coming back, ready for victory and the joy it brings.

When I get off the train at Stillwell Avenue and see the lifeguard chair in the station as I am walking towards Nathan’s Famous and the boardwalk, I feel this excitement. You never know what the day will bring. I see the Cyclone, the Wonder Wheel, and in the distance the holy waters where the Coney Island Polar Bears swim, and during the regular season families go and spend their day(s) enjoying the beach. Who says the winter isn’t the regular season? Many think it is. I do.

Walking along the boardwalk and seeing all the characters and the little kids hoping they are tall enough for the Cyclone makes you feel all is right with the world. I usually go straight to the Cyclone and ride it several times. Then I decide on my next ride. I always walk along the beach and let the sand pile up in my sneakers. I head over to the Wonder Wheel and play some games. I win lots of toys. Then the time comes when you need to board the subway and head home. I look back at the beach and rides and board, knowing I had a great time and probably ran into many of my Coney pals.

I am chairman of the Ten Mile River Scout Museum. As we drive along 97, the road that leads to camp, I feel I am 12 years old again. I jump a few years into my teens and remember all the friends I made at this camp. I am still friends with many. Sadly, some, like My Leader and Uncle Funky, are at the great campsite in the sky.

I always make sure I get to the section where I spent my teen years earning merit badges, listening to great music, such as the Ramones, U2, Depeche Mode and the Clash, as well as spending lots of time in Rock Lake; it rocks. That section is now gone. Nature has taken it over. But when I am there, I channel back to the 80s and feel incredible. I still jump into the lake and hike the trails. I walk by the cement blocks that once held important buildings, such as the nature and handicraft lodges, offices and latrines. Then we get to the gate and drive back to the other sections, full of kids, great programming, and camp food. We are all smiles.

When the El Al jet lands at Ben-Gurion Airport, I feel at home. The first time I went to Israel, I didn’t feel like a tourist. I felt I was returning home. Yes, I had no idea where I was. But I didn’t feel that way. There is something about that place that makes you feel you’ve always been there. I went through security, got my luggage and got to my hotel. I have done this many times. The excitement grows each time.

I check my bags and immediately walk to the Kotel. Tears fall from my eyes as I get there and place my head against it. Yes, I stuff notes in it. Some are mine and some were given to me by others. I feel connected to the world and the higher one. Sometimes I talk to others. We all take pictures of each other to text home to Mom and others.

I spend a few days in Jerusalem and travel. I might go north to Safed or south to Eilat. The feeling never leaves me. Eventually, I wind up on Tel Aviv’s stunning beaches. I am often the first one out. I am an early riser and am often sitting on my lounge chair or in the Mediterranean Sea around 7 a.m. or 8 a.m. Walks along the boardwalk are different than walks along Coney’s boardwalk. Although sometimes they are similar. You meet lots of interesting people and partake in lots of great food and drink.

Bottom line, everyone has these places locked into their hearts and souls. I don’t know which one(s) will come next. I know the places I discussed will always remain at the top.

Thank You, NYC Transit Part II

I thank those who read, “Thank You, NYC Transit.” I hope you enjoyed and thought of your own NYC Transit or other public transit stories. Every city has them. I have been lucky enough to ride the trains and buses in the following cities: Berlin, London, Madrid, Milan, Moscow, Rome, St. Petersburg, Safed, San Francisco, Tel Aviv, Tiberias and Vienna. I probably I left some cities out. Feel free to add your thoughts to the chat.

Annadale Station – Staten Island Railway

Since we live in modern times, our subway system has a website. It is supposed to tell us what trains have service changes during specific hours. Service changes mean they are not running, skipping stops, or facing significant route changes. For example, trains that normally travel into Brooklyn are not. They are going to Brigadoon. If only.

I check the website fairly regularly. Is it helpful? Sometimes. Often, the information is inaccurate. You get to your usual station or go to a different one thinking you had proper guidance, only to find out the site was incorrect. That means you either get on the subway where you are and transfer. Or exit the station, walk to another one and pay a new fare.

I once walked to a MetroCard agent and asked him if a certain train was running. The signs on the platform made no sense. Trains the signs said weren’t running stopped in the station. The ones the signs said were running did not.

The agent said that your best bet is to check our website. He continued to say it is never wrong. I said I just did and it was incorrect. He was dumbfounded. Then there are times when only certain train cars will open at a specific station. That is usually only relevant to the Long Island Railroad, Metro North and New Jersey Transit. But not always. You’d think the signs and website would publish this. Not.

I rarely ride public buses. I tried it many years ago from Staten Island to Grand Central Station. I used to get off feeling nauseous not far from Macy’*s and walked the rest of the way.

Anyway, what choice do we have? You really can’t drive into the city. So, we keep riding. See ‘ya on the platform.

Thank You, NYC Transit

Most New Yorkers get around via NYC Transit. Be it our “timely” buses or our ever “timely” and “clean” subways. We should not forget the Staten Island Railway. That’s like a trolley from yesteryear. But hey, today’s subway systems seem to be on that track. What track it is on no one really knows. It is unlikely we will ever know. For the record, I know all the lines. I have friends all over the USA. They often text me when they’re coming to the Big Apple and ask for train advice. I coach them as best as I can. But ‘ya never know.

Each time you ride, you can probably write a story. You need to take in the salespeople, preachers, drunks, crazies, tourists, and the performers. Today, I will focus on the quality of the service. No need to talk about the cleanliness of the stations, the trains, and the restrooms. That’s for another time.

Once I was on the R going to Cortlandt Street – World Trade. After City Hall, they just ran the train right to DeKalb Avenue. They didn’t tell us. Eventually it pulled into DeKalb. The tourists asked me what they should do. They were hoping to go to Ground Zero. I said we have to go to the Manhattan-bound platform and hope it goes there. Heck, we were at DeKalb. I should have just said, go to Junior’s, get a delicious burger, and a piece of its award-winning cheesecake.

Once I was going to see Paul McCartney at Yankee Stadium, I got on the D train. It is supposed to run to the Stadium when there are ballgames and other events, such as concerts. A packed train flew right by the Stadium and, unlike a cutter by Mariano, missed the strike zone. In other words, it didn’t stop. The conductor sheepishly announced that they forgot to program the train to stop at 161^st. He told us to get off two stops later and take the Manhattan-bound train to the Stadium.

Another time at the Stadium after a Yankees-Red Sox game, the station was packed beyond belief. The NYPD let everyone know they forgot to add the extra service they usually do during games. They were trying to catch up.

NYPD Boat – I know it is not an image of an officer at the subway station. But NYC Transit would not know the difference

Another day, I wanted to take the Queens-bound R to Queens. It wasn’t running. I figured I’d get an F. I went to the station and paid. They said the F wasn’t running. But they were running the E (a train that the Board of Health should condemn) through that station. But it may not go to the stop I wanted. The F wound up running through. I asked the conductor if that train was going where I needed to go. She said, “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. Get on my train.” I did. It worked.

For a moment, let’s jump the Long Island Railroad (LIRR). A week or so ago, I saw Joe Jackson at the Beacon. I wanted to take the 2 or 3 from 72^nd to Times Square to get the E. The E was out of service. I could have walked over to the F. Or take the LIRR at Penn Station. Mind you, due to construction that has been going on for years at the Forest Hills Station, only the first four cars open when it pulls in. When will it be finished? Why ask? You know.

I got into what looked like the first car. I asked the conductor if I was in the right car. He said my train is stopping at Forest Hills. I asked again whether this car would open. He didn’t know. He never scanned my ticket. That happens on all the trains that have that payment procedure. I experienced that in Berlin, too. I always buy one. I am not willing to take the risk. But it does feel like I was wasting money. Or not. Honestly needs to count for something.

Then there are the nights that after games or concerts at the Garden several of the subway lines in Penn Station aren’t running and you have to walk to Herald Square or elsewhere. I have had interesting experiences on NJ Transit, PATH – Path to where is what you should ask and Metro North.

Despite all of this, it’s our way to get around and helps make NYC what it is. Keep riding.

Reading Books, You Snagged from a Friend

By Mitchell Slepian

About a week ago, several of my friends gathered at the home of one of our dearest friends, brothers, and mentors. He is getting on in year. We were packing up things he is donating. He and his wife sat in the living room while we packed and dined on turkey sandwiches. It was a bittersweet moment.

Our friend is involved in many organizations and is a retired engineer who helped build NYC’s subway system. His home is chock-full of memorabilia from all his interests, including many books on the history of our nation’s infrastructure. Some are written for engineers. Some for the general public. I snagged a few books. Of the infrastructure books, I took the ones written for the average Joe.

Last Saturday, I started reading “The Road Taken: The History and Future of America’s Infrastructure” by Henry Petroski, a professor of civil engineering at Duke University. I am about halfway through it. While reading, I was thinking about my take on the history Petroski was telling. He’s written several other books. I plan to read a few.

As I turned the pages, I put myself in my friend’s chair and started thinking about how he understood the topics in comparison to me. I know he’d have a better grasp of the subject matter and may have worked on some of the projects discussed in the book. For me, it was a learning experience because it was a new topic. I plan to read and learn more. I like it, as it is different for me, and change is the only constant.

Then I thought of other books I got from friends and some comic books that I was given at various comic cons. Were their thoughts of this literature channeling through me? Would I understand it better or worse? Of course, for the books from family and friends, I likely knew why they read them. Some of the giveaways from the comic cons were probably read for similar reasons. Like me, they like the Incredible Hulk.

Seeing Things Through a Different Lens

By Mitchell Slepian

Do you ever try to see things through a different lens? Are you so stuck in your usual way of thinking that you cannot? It might even scare you to try to look. The other day, I was at Grand Army Plaza and the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. I was thrilled to see that the plaza renovation is finally complete. It made the fact that I looked through a different lens even more special.

Normally, when I stroll through the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, I have my camera with my Nikkor105MM F2.8 macro lens. That’s the lens that lets you to closeups of the flowers. You can shoot shots of the bees flying around and landing on the pretty flowers. Perhaps they are fetching honey. That’s an old joke from a camp skit. The lens allows you to take close-ups of a nice ribeye with that glass of red behind it and hashbrowns on the side.

I love shooting macro. But it doesn’t allow you to go wide or zoom. You are at a fixed focal length. That’s cool. Most of the best portrait and street photos are shot that way. I have taken dozens of floral shots with my 105 mm lens. I have been contemplating going to the BBG with a different lens. I finally did. I brought a Nikkor 24-70MM F2.8. Some call this the everyday lens. It is amazing. It gives you the versatility to do nearly everything. It doesn’t go as wide as a standard wide-angle. Nor does it let you zoom like the 70-200MM. It goes from wide to short telephoto. It is light and won’t weigh you down. It is a great choice when you wanna go out with just one lens and not be weighed down by your camera bag.

As I walked by Prospect Park towards Grand Army Plaza, I was shocked to see that the renovation work was complete. It took about two years. For NYC, that’s super-fast. They’ve been doing track work on the R-subway line for several years with no end on the horizon.

I was so happy I took my 24-70 lens. The macro would have done a great job. But framing the shot would have taken much longer and been more difficult. The other lens allowed me the flexibility I needed. Yes, I tried to take a shot of the Brooklyn Museum. No dice. I need my wide-angle lens. If the museum were about a half-foot smaller, I could capture it.

As I entered the garden, I took my usual opening shot of the field and was able to capture it all. I was able to shoot the ponds and capture them perfectly. As for the close-ups of the flowers, it did okay. It captured them nicely. Does it capture the same detail as the macro? No. But that’s why they make that lens.

Bottom line: seeing things through a different lens opens your eyes to new things. Give it a try.

Dan’s Attacked With Moldy Bread

Jerry and Gili were playing quietly. Gili was getting bigger. Jerry watched over her. She was strong. She still loved her milk. Sarah and David Benjamin were eating their baby food. Anat was briefed on their superpowers. She was ready. She expected her day with the twins and her kids to be relaxed.

The Drop on the Cyclone, Luna Park, Brooklyn, NY

She played Bauhaus the Cure in the background. She understood the kids would listen to whatever they wanted when they got older and developed an appreciation for music. But she wanted to push them towards goth. Who wouldn’t?

Anat was working on her taxes. In a switch from his usual beat of Staten Island’s south shore, Dan was out in the frigid weather patrolling Coney Island undercover. His expertise was required. Nothing unusual was happening. The Coney Island Polar Bears were in the water. People were eating hot dogs in Nathan’s, and parents took their bundled-up kids to the NY Aquarium. It seemed like a normal winter day at the beach. He texted Anat he’d be home in about two or three hours and asked if she wanted him to pick up pizza from L&B Spumoni Gardens. Of course, she said yes. Saying no would be criminal.

The polars bears were exiting the water. Near the Cyclone, some kids were goofing off. But nothing Dan had to address. As he walked back to his car, he noticed a tall girl, about 18 or 19, wearing a stained blue sweatshirt with the name “Christy A.” running down both sleeves. She was taunting some of the other kids. Dan figured it was just a group of kids goofing off. He didn’t see it as a threat. Until he saw moldy, stale bread flying at some of the kids. One piece clocked a girl in the head. She fell. He raced over to her to see if she needed help. Bread with larvae was flying everywhere. He saw Christy A. shooting it out of her mouth and hands. He yelled at her to stop. She started to jump up and down. Pieces of bread almost nailed him in the throat. Christy’s hair was fire red, as was her face. He pulled out his weapon and fired three shots. All were knocked down by bread.

Christy raced toward the subway station. Dan chased her. She nailed him in the eyes. He temporarily lost his vision. She hopped on the F line. She did tap her OMNY card. At least she didn’t jump the fare.

Dan immediately texted Anat. You’d think he would have texted the Coney Island Precinct that is in the subway station at Stillwell Avenue. He knew this was something that Anat and her “family” would handle better.

Does Constantly Checking Your Email Give You Peace of Mind?

Or Does it Drive You Crazy?

By Mitchell Slepian

I remember back in the day, when you couldn’t check your email on your phone or by logging in on another computer. You had to check it on the computer you normally used. Years ago, my sister and I shared an email address. I figured out how to check it from other computers. I would log on and email her. She got a little nervous and scared. She had no idea how I was doing this. Of course, I explained everything. But I had fun for a day or two.

I remember when I was at a PR firm and on a Friday, booked the CEO (Scott D. Cook) of the company I was representing (Intuit) onto CNBC. He was supposed to be on the following Monday. I was in NYC, and Cook was in Mountain View, Calif. The producers were working out the final details. They, a coworker, and I left each other voicemails all weekend. We were checking nonstop. Monday came around, and we worked everything out with Cook’s executive assistant and he did a great interview.

These days, all we would have to do is send a few emails or texts, and everything would be set. In some jobs, you need to constantly check your email. But the question I would like to raise is: how much checking is too much? Do you check immediately before going to bed and as soon as you wake up? Does it kill when you need to turn your phone off during Broadway shows, the New York Philharmonic, and operas? When is checking excessive? Can you sit through dinner with family and friends without logging on?

The best part is that most of the time, all your emails come from your project management applications, such as Basecamp or monday.com, letting you know the web update is live or that edits have been made to a document. Oh, and there are sales pitches for things your company will never need. Or people reaching out to you to forward their resumes to HR. These people are not people you know. They are just spamming everyone they can secure an email address for.

For the record, before I sat down to write this, I was at the gym. My workday was over. I was doing some core work and checked my email. On the super-long train ride into work that morning (due to a stalled train at a major station), I held back from checking and kept reading “Remain in Light” by Chris Frantz. I tried my best to stick with the book on my Kindle and not try to live that wildlife by checking my office’s email. I even skipped checking my personal email accounts. I have too many of those.

Bottom line, I think it’s fine to check it in moderation. But I always remember that the email you’re waiting for, or think is coming will probably come in due time.

In Your Eyes

With or Without Your Phone or Your Nikon Camera

By Mitchell Slepian

I am not writing about Peter Gabriel, who wrote the hit “In Your Eyes,” or U2, whose hit “With or Without You” broke them into the major leagues of music. They were there well before that tune. Think of “Sunday Bloody Sunday” or their debut, “Stories for Boys.” Like Paul Simon, I have a Nikon camera and love to take photographs. I do have a Kodak Instamatic X-15. So, a Kodachrome, I can deal with. I bought it last summer at a street fair at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. This camera was introduced in 1963. By 1970, it had sold several million. Probably similar to the number of albums sold by Genesis, Gabriel’s solo work when he departed Genesis, and certainly U2. The man I bought it from told me it works. The other day, I was in B&H, and they told me they have film for it. I need to check the camera and see what I need. Remember film? In camp, my Assistant Scoutmaster Larry had a Polaroid. We took tons of shots that printed as they popped out of the camera.

But this story is not about cameras. But more about seeing things with your eyes. One of my closest friends is an eye doctor and a great swimmer (his swimming hole required excellent vision). Many of you have seen my photos. I share them via email and Instagram, and occasionally LinkedIn. I hope you enjoy what I have included.

Now, about seeing stuff in your eyes. I often spend weekends shooting photos at the Brooklyn or the New York Botanical Gardens, the South Street Seaport, and Museum Mile. Then, there are the days I go to one of the holiest places, Ten Mile River Scout Camps. It is a photographer’s paradise.

A few days ago, I saw the Psychedelic Furs at the Brooklyn Paramount. Before meeting a pal at the Original Junior’s Cheesecake (it’s across the street from the venue) for dinner before the show, I saw the Monet in Venice Exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum. Amazing. I had about two hours before what should have been a few subway stops away to Junior’s. So, I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, which is next to the Brooklyn Museum. Oh, as for what should have been, blame the MTA for making it several more stops and three different trains—life as a New Yorker.

I strolled the garden without my Nikon. I kept my iPhone in my pocket. I took in the beauty of the gardens with my eyes. It was incredible. I was just so amazed to look at the flowers with my eyes and not through a viewfinder with my thumb and index finger playing with the ISO and F stop. Or clicking away and texting images of the fountain. At this point in the season, many of the flowers are dying. That’s more of a song from The Cure. But there probably isn’t a better songwriter than Robert Smith. The Cure saved me. I am sure they have saved others. The gardens were magical. I thought a little more about what I was seeing. I wasn’t thinking about lighting and what I’d be doing with the images in Creative Cloud. It was simple. These days simplicity is missing.

This experience only makes me think, I need to go back to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and other places with less equipment. Of course, the shots I take make many people smile and create great conversations. Balance is what I need.

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.