Yankee Stadium – Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc.

What Do People Want to Read?

Where Do Their Interests Lie?

By Mitchell Slepian

We all know we are swamped by too much copy. Whether it be news, fiction, non-fiction, or social media posts. We can agree that social media falls between fiction and non-fiction. We all know people who swear by it and believe everything that’s posted.

Some of you know, for many years, I have been working on a graphic novel. It is taking too long. I need an illustrator. For those of you following, Marc, Alana, Anat, and the rest of the bunch, I thank you. There will be more soon enough.

The questions on my mind are: What are people interested in reading, and how can I get them to read it? As a PR professional, I was taught that when pitching a journalist, I need to explain why a story is newsworthy and why readers will care. I remember creating the American Institute of CPA’s (AICPA) Economic Outlook Survey Index. The AICPA had an economic outlook survey. No one cared about it. Duke University and CFO Magazine partnered on one. Several other universities had a survey I wanted ours to reach new heights. At the time, we did it with North Carolina State University. I spoke to trusted reporters at Bloomberg, Dow Jones Newswires, and a few other media outlets. The journalists told me to create one index. I got approval and did it. I offered embargoed data to Bloomberg, Dow Jones, and The New York Times. All of them ran it. That was in 2011. The survey continues to run and gets top-tier media coverage. I have long left the AICPA. But now I was able to create something that people wanted to read.

I have been writing blogs on many topics, including but not limited to AI and how it is shaping our future, Coney Island, how people try to sit anywhere at shows and games at Madison Square Garden, Yankee Stadium, and other venues, the Staten Island Ferry, etc.

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

My blog about Coney Island and the Ferry got many clicks. The AI blog got several comments on LinkedIn. But one person read it. Weird. I wrote about LinkedIn. People did read it. Did it reach the numbers of Coney Island and the ferry? Not even close. I know from my PR work that certain industry trades carry a lot of weight. Their circulation numbers are not high. But consistent placement in those outlets leads to top-tier media, such as The Wall Street Journal.

The Ferry Sailing By the Verrazzano–Narrows Bridge

I know my blog posts are not at the level of the top trades and media. But I have a small but growing following. My AI post would have opened up new areas. Maybe we haven’t gotten there with AI yet. Or we are over exposed, and people are taking a break from reading about it.

The question remains: are people more interested in things that are changing and reshaping our world? Or, would they rather read about the things they grew up with and are closest to?

Is That Seat Available?

Did You Purchase it?

by Mitchell Slepian

I regularly attend concerts, movies, the theater and Yankee Games. Venues include Madison Square Garden (MSG), City Winery, the Beacon and the Stadium. In most cases, the seats are assigned because the other audience members and I purchased specific seats.

Sure, there are occasions where the shows are general admission seating or standing room only. I am not a fan of this, but I have learned to live with it. There are some venues where I can stand it. Those include the Brooklyn Paramount (maybe because it is across the street from the original Junior’s) and Pier 17 at the South Street Seaport. Irving Plaza is ok. Terminal 5 and Webster Hall suck.

About two weeks ago, I saw Florence and the Machine at MSG. I’ve seen Florence many times. She rocks. I had a decent seat. The two seats in front of me were empty for the opener. I was happy. I always want those seats empty. It makes it easier for me to see the stage. Two women sat in those seats. Were these their seats? No.

They looked and said, “Oh, open seats.” Yeah, it’s like a movie theater. The people who had the seats arrived just as Florence took the stage. The people left. They did say, “oh we are down this aisle. But we saw open seats and thought we’d take them.”

They got up, and the rightful occupants sat down, and Florence and the Machine were amazing. This is far from the first time this has happened.

Last week, I was at the Stadium. We beat the Orioles 11-3. I was in my usual spot (Section 232A). For several innings, the seats next to me were empty. Eventually, a friendly family sat next to me. They were up and down a lot. People were seated in front of me. They, too, were up and down a lot. I do not understand how you cannot be there for the first pitch and can miss an inning. During the sixth inning, when I get online for ice cream, I watch the game on the TVs by the concession stand. So, the seats ahead of me were empty. People came over and asked the folks next to me if anyone was seated there. They said yes. But they have not been there for an inning or two. The people who asked for those seats planted themselves in them.

The Stadium has the handicapped seating area near my section. People plant themselves there. Thankfully, the ushers do make them leave. But not right away. They used to have ushers in all sections and kept out those who were not supposed to be seated in a particular section. The Garden and Radio City try. But they don’t always succeed. Broadway and Lincoln Center generally get it right. It’s time to bring the ushers back to the other venues. It is time for people to understand it’s not a free-for-all.

It is Pricier Being Single

Single People Are Discriminated Against

By Mitchell Slepian

Being single sucks. It costs more, and you are discriminated against. In many cases, it is not our fault. Yes, I know married couples with children experience the costs of housing for themselves and their offspring. It is not cheap.

However, what I want to get at is why being single is more expensive than most people think. Do you travel? I have been to many places, including Iceland, Ireland (both Northern Ireland and the Republic), Italy, and Israel. I guess I like “I” nations. I doubt I will ever go to Iraq, Iran, or Indonesia. I have also visited Austria, Germany, Hungary, Spain, and Russia. I am leaving out a few places. But you get the point. I love booking these trips and have a fantastic travel agent. I am a repeat traveler with certain touring companies and receive the appropriate discounts. I always pay in full when booking. You often get another discount for doing that. Sounds great. The discount means nothing when they tack on several hundred dollars for being a solo traveler. Some tours do not permit it.

Yes, singles tours are available. They are usually cheesy Caribbean cruises where they do games to hook you up. They are not trips to the spots as mentioned earlier. I have only been on one cruise. It is an orange boat – The Staten Island Ferry. Once I got to steer it. I had fun. That cruise is free. Anything can get on it. If you haven’t sailed on it, go for it, and you will see what I mean by ‘anything’.

I go to several concerts and shows every month. Shows can be theater, opera, ballet, and other forms of entertainment. Concerts could be the NY Philharmonic or at the Beacon, Garden, and Radio City Music Hall. Sometimes I go solo. Sometimes I go with my “concert friends.” We are single and attend tons of shows. For many reasons, I prefer aisle seats. I want it to be easy if I need to get up and run to the bathroom, concession stand (I rarely buy anything there), or walk out of the show because I am bored or the performer or show is offensive. I have walked out of a few: Hadestown, Patti Smith, and Porgy & Bess stand out. Lately, the Beacon and Radio City require you to buy the aisle seat and the one next to it. I struggle with this.

In some cases, I bought the third seat. I also reached out to my group and found someone willing to join me. Alas, I got my aisle seat. For the time being, City Winery, Regal, and Yankee Stadium let me pick any seat I want. Hey, I am paying, so I should be able to buy what I want. My choices are to stay home or buy two seats and have no one seated next to me. But why should I pay more?

Dining out is just as discriminatory. I go to restaurants solo all over the city. In some places, I know the bartenders and restaurant managers quite well. I have my preferred seating, and they welcome me with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. In others, the first thing they do is try to seat you at the bar. In some places, that’s my preferred spot. Others, I want a table. Recently, I attended a performance by the NY Philharmonic. Thankfully, David Geffen Hall and the other theaters at Lincoln Center are not discriminatory. You can sit wherever you want to pay for.

Try going food shopping, whether it’s an online grocer (my preference) or a supermarket. I eat lots of fresh veggies. Most of the packages are made for families, for example, a three or four-pack of corn on the cob, peppers, carrots, etc. I love apple cider donuts. These days, I rarely eat junk. But would buy one. Trader Joe’s and the other stores do not sell them singly. You need to buy a pack of four or six. These and the veggies would not last long enough for me to eat them. I have heard from friends about health care insurance costs when they are buying for themselves. They get ripped off.

Some are single by choice, while others are single for other reasons. Whatever they are, we deserve to be treated fairly.

New York, New York, or the Middle of the Desert

You can be Isolated and in the Midst of It All – Get the Balance Right

By Mitchell Slepian

World’s Fair Globe, Flushing Meadows–Corona Park

No, I am not writing about Ol’ Blue Eyes. Or quoting from Depeche Mode. (But I do want to hear his version of “New York, New York” played after every game at Yankee Stadium during 2026). The Big Apple is one of the world’s most photogenic cities. Yes, there are plenty of others, for example, Belfast, Jerusalem, Moscow, Milan, Reykjavik and Tel Aviv. What I love about New York City is that nowhere else can you find Broadway, the Brooklyn Bridge, Coney Island, the East and Hudson Rivers, the Staten Island Ferry, Yankee Stadium, and the World’s Fair Globe. And more. Much more.

Cell Tower Outside Brooklyn Botanic Garden

New York offers places where you can feel the big-city madness. Or areas where you can feel the quiet and almost feel isolation. When I say isolation, I do not mean the Joy Division tune. I am thinking about being at the Brooklyn (BBG) or New York Botanic Gardens, William H. Pouch Scout Camp, or just being in your own world while cruising along Museum Mile. NYC offers isolation and madness.

The joy of being in the “isolation”(Joy Division was running through my head) of NYC, or let’s be honest, any other major city, is the things that pop up on your travels. As I was walking through the Fall Harbor Fest at BBG, I looked up and saw a cell tower. A few feet away, I watched a squirrel around some dying flowers. It’s that time of year. Next to the flowers was a trash can. I remember seeing cell towers driving through Death Valley and along the Italian lakes.

Let’s face they are everywhere. We cannot survive without our Wi-Fi. In many ways, seeing them and the trash cans keeps it in perspective. You can enjoy your isolation or privacy. But know you are when you are in the middle of beautiful gardens or national parks and communing with nature, you can easily text your friends, check the baseball scores, or listen to Depeche Mode on Apple Music on your iPhone. And toss out your trash. NYC provides the perfect place to do it all. It’s just important to remember to stay balanced in your adventures and take it all in.

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.

My Wallet

Is it an Apple, a Coach, or a Jox Sox?

By Mitchell Slepian

These days, many people no longer use traditional leather wallets. You may remember them. They had a billfold and pockets for your license, credit cards, and a picture of your kid or dog. According to a report by Amazon Web Services and PYMNTs in February 2024, 79 percent of Gen Z use digital wallets. Baby boomers and seniors account for 26 percent of the digital wallet users.

Let’s reminisce about the various types of wallets available. They still exist. Let’s start with my first wallet. It was a white Jox Sox. I got the socks from my grandmother. She was and might still be the queen of socks. But they had to be Jox Sox from Thom McAn, a shoe retailer. Sadly, it shuttered its 100-plus stores in 1986. You can still get Jox Sox from Amazon. I have a pair.

In the ’70s, most of us kids kept a dollar or two in our socks. We put coins in them, too. Sometimes, that causes cuts on the soles of our feet or toes. I can remember a quarter or two floating around my sock. The change could tear through our foot protection. My favorite memory was from when I attended the Manhattan Beach Jewish Center Day Camp. The camp would take us on a field trip to L&B Spumoni Gardens to get spumoni. That’s where I developed my love of this precious treat. Our counselors told us to wait for them to get us our spumoni and not to get anything else. We were about 10 years old.

Did we listen? We pulled a dollar out of our sock and got on the line for a Sicilian slice. Back then, a pizza slice cost around 50 or 75 cents. We knew they had the best pizza. They still do. I was last there on Memorial Day. I pulled my money out of my Timberlands wallet. It now costs $9.75 for two slices and a bottle of water.

Please note that the camp is kosher. Why did they take us to L&B? Who knows? They would pack kosher meals for us when we went to the now-closed Action Park (it reopened under another name), the beach, and on overnight trips to Cooperstown. Once, they took us to Yankee Stadium. We snuck over to the concession stands. The counselors told us they had to taste our hot dogs to see if they were kosher. So, we cut a piece off. Yeah, we and some of our trusted counselors ate all sorts of “kosher” crap from the stands in the amusement parks. And wherever else went.

In the 1980s, I attended summer camp, which was the best time of my life. Before I went, my dad handed me an old brown wallet of his. He said I should have one and carry a few dollars in it to buy stuff at the trading post. I took it. I obtained the singles from Larry, who served as our banker and purchased candy from the trading post or a hamburger meal in Bob (Slob, as we called it) Landers.

I carried that wallet with me when I needed to. For the most part, through junior and high school, I kept a dollar or two in my pocket or sock. I arrived at college and needed to carry a little more money. Not much. So, I had the wallet. My girlfriend didn’t like it, as it was worn. She bought me a new one for my birthday. It was nice. I used it. When she dumped me, I went back to the trusty old wallet. Eventually, as I got older, I bought a few. I had a nice Coach wallet from Bloomingdale’s, and I received another one for my birthday from the people at a volunteer group I worked with. They just bought it for me. They had no idea if I was using a worn one or my sock. We had a meeting around my birthday. We had pizza, and they handed me the new wallet.

For the most part, now my iPhone is my wallet. I tap it at the subway turnstile. Yeah, I ditched the MetroCard, too. Eventually, New York City Transit will eliminate them. I tap and pay at the Stadium, Key Food, and most restaurants.

Ultimately, my favorite wallet will always be a sock. Preferably, a Jox.

Technology On Vacation – Love It or Leave It?

This topic has been discussed before. I may add a new twist. Perhaps not. Hopefully, we all go on enjoyable vacations.

I’ve been to Israel, Ireland, Italy, and Iceland. You can see I like “I” countries. Toss in Austria, Czech Republic, England, Hungary, Germany, Russia, Spain, and a few islands. Most of the time, I travel solo. Last year, I went to Israel with my mom—her first time. I was the tour guide.

The first solo trip I took was to Aruba. As far as technology, I had my office’s BlackBerry. Remember those? The iPhone wasn’t invented yet. I only had a US connection. So, if I wanted to reach out to people at home in the States, I needed to go to hotel’s business center. I only went to it to check in for my return flight. It was great. I hung out on the beach, did a few dive trips, and sipped rum. I had no contact with the outside world. The only thing I ever really wanted to know was the Yankee scores. During my early travel days, they were winning it all. Please note I always blocked out October on my calendar to be home to watch post-season games at the Stadium or home.

I went to Italy with my mom and sister. I talk to my mom most. My sister, that’s another story. But she’s great. I had my trusted BlackBerry with only a US connection. In those days, international connections were pricey, and my office probably would not allow it. I went to Spain with mom. The bank in Barcelona ate her debit card. We needed to call the bank. Somehow, we got through. Other than that, we made no calls, texts, etc. It was a more civil time – social media just started, and people were not yet adapting.

Jump to Russia. I asked my boss if I could have an international connection. He said yes. They were worried about me being in Moscow. It is beautiful. The food sucked. I contacted no one.

Usually, when I travel, I make a small travel kit. I include my itinerary, receipts of all pre-paid fees and my flight information. When I went to Iceland, I made this kit. However, I forgot to include the flight information. So, I logged into my email account at the hotel’s business center and found it. Of course, I saw dozens of emails. I was dumb enough to open them and respond. That’s when it started. If I had my proper travel kit, I just would have gone to the airline’s website and checked in. That’s what I usually do. Once, when I was in Israel, I saw my email or Facebook account when I was checking into my return El Al flight. I was pleased when I had a message and friend request from someone. We chatted for a few minutes.

As my travels continued, I had my iPhone, and the international fees were reasonable. Add in WhatsApp and you could text and call at no cost. With my mom in Israel, we used it to keep in touch. We had plenty of time together. Thankfully, we had plenty of time to be independent. My mom had to call her elderly mom a few times. We used technology correctly. It was used when needed. I did similar on other trips to the Holy Land. I only used to make a few calls or texts to people I was meeting for dinner.

Of course, currently, social media is in full use by all. Sad. I took a few shots with my iPhone. I took most with my Nikon and had to wait for any posts until I got home and Photoshopped. I never post to any accounts while I am away. I’d rather stay quiet.

I spent my recent birthday in Ireland. Many called and texted to send birthday wishes. I thanked all. I got tons of greetings on social media. Like all places, I took a few iPhone shots. I sent those around via the various apps to my friends and family. I still checked the Yankees scores. It made no difference what they did. Friends were sending messages making fun of how poorly we were playing. I sat in Peadar O’Donnell’s, Derry, UK and sipped Smithwick’s or Baileys Irish Cream and heard great music. Using my iPhone; I was recapping my adventures with friends. I did similar at other pubs and other spots in Ireland.

I am exploring going to the safari in South Africa. If I go, I will have my 600mm zoom lens to take shots of Simba, Dumbo, and most importantly, giraffes. Will I chat and call friends and family? I don’t know. I would guess, probably, while simultaneously sending them a few snapshots. My phone won’t take the best images of the giraffes and lions. But a tease is ok.

Do I love technology on vacations? Or do I dream of the days when I had no connection to the outside world and just lived in the location I was touring? I do not know.

Marc and Alana Plot to take out Anat

“Alana, we need to get together. We have a real problem. Tomorrow, meet me at our bench at Wolfe’s Pond Park.”

Alana was sitting nose deep into her Kindle Fire on the Staten Island Ferry Newhouse. She jumped on the train and got off at Huguenot. As she headed to the park, she passed her and Marc’s alma mater, Tottenville High School. The two of them hated that place. Pure misery.

Marc was seated on their bench overlooking the water. Alana walked over and gave him a hello hug.

“Let me guess, our problem is that crazy boot wearing woman, who fights with prunes and dates? A few days ago, she was hurting someone in Prospect Park. We fought. She’s tough.”

Marc shook his head. “She attacked me last Sunday outside the Stadium.”

They chatted for a few minutes. Marc explained that she was actually after Jen.

“We need to take her out,” exclaimed Alana.

Marc’s blinked his eyes and smiled. “I know. But how? Do we double-team her? I don’t want her to hurt Jen.”

Marc went on to tell Alana that he thinks Jen will get married to the guy she’s dating. Alana responded by telling him that she thinks it is nice and knows the two of them will never wed anyone. Marc smiled and told her that they at least have their own messed up friendship. And that’s life.

The two got up and walked along the trail hand in hand. They continued to discuss their plan to take out Anat. Marc was assigned the task to warn Jen. Alana was somewhat jealous of Jen. Partially due to her former relationship with Marc. And because she was able to find someone. She got out of the web that chained Marc and Alana.

They left the park. Jen called Marc.

“Hey, Marc. Listen I know I will always love you and our time together. But I am moving on. I am talking marriage with Jake. I think he may get me a ring any day now.”

“That’s nice, Jen. Tell me about some crazy smelly lady named Anat who claims you tortured her when she was growing up?”

“What? How do you know her? I was thinking about her the other day. Please tell me she’s not your girlfriend. I am on a new path. I know you and Alana will always have your twisted relationship. I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

“Anat attacked me outside the Stadium. She attacked some woman in Prospect Park. Alana broke up the fight. After she went after me, she said she’s after you.”

“We tortured her in summer camp. I was a ringleader. She couldn’t swim. We did the old “put the crazy kid in a canoe trick.” You taught it to me.

“Oh boy, Jen. You’re in for it. I will always love you, too. Be careful.”

Anat and Marc fight in the Bronx

Marc was on the 4-subway line heading up to his favorite place, the Stadium. In his mind, nothing could be better, a hot dog, knish, Pepsi and victory over the Red Sox. He went solo. He usually does. His mom came once on his birthday. He used to go with his dad.

He exited the train and went through the same turnstile he has been exiting for years. He looked at the new monstrosity of a stadium and had flashbacks of his precious old stadium. Not just his — But New York’s, the Yankees’ and the worlds. A rabbi once promised him it’d be rebuilt next to the temple and he could live in it.

He walked around the hallowed grounds of the old Stadium. It was now a kid’s park. Did these younglings know that their sliding ponds, swings and fields were once the grounds that the Babe, Iron Horse, the Yankee Clipper, Yogi, the Scooter, Reggie and many other hall of famers called home? Oh well. The sun was shining and it was a great day to take on Boston.

He purchased a bottle of water and walked by Stan’s and was ready to enter the Stadium. He downloaded his ticket and had a big smile on his face. His phone played Joy Division’s “Isolation”. He wasn’t in the mood for Alana. He’d get back to her after the game.

He probably should have read her text. He stood on the corner by the McDonald’s across the street from the Stadium. Tons of people were milling around. The ticket scalpers were doing their thing, the people who sold merchandise that fell off a truck were making the money and the smells of hot dogs, sausages and everything else permeated the air.

He gazed aimlessly at the Stadium and was about to cross the street to go in. His feet started to move him. All of a sudden he heard someone shrieking his name. At times he ran into friends from his temple, scouting, etc. at the game.

He quickly turned around. He didn’t see anyone he knew. He saw Anat and some other folks. At this point, he had no idea who or what she is. She was wearing tattered shorts, boots and a worn Big Papi t-shirt. She had a red purse with a baseball rolling around in it. She had cakes of dirt on her arms and well-toned legs. People were moving away from her. Once again, Marc glanced at the crowd and figured whoever called his name out must have thought he didn’t hear them and carried on.

“Marc, Marc,” Anat belted out.

“Do I know you? I apologize but I don’t seem to recognize you.”

“You don’t know me. We’ve never met. But your ex-girlfriend tormented me as a kid.”

He breathed in deep and asked what did Alana do. Not that she was his girlfriend or ex-girlfriend. The two have never determined their relationship. He had no idea why he picked her. But figured she might be the right choice. As a young girl people sometimes picked on her for her darkness. But she always held her ground and flew high.

“No. Not Alana. I know you went to grade school with Jen. I stalk her on Facebook. I know you dated her. I don’t like her current happiness. You don’t even know what she did to me. And yes, I know about your goth chic. We’ve met. She’s of no worry to me. “

Marc wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to go into the stadium. He had an overpriced hot dog to buy. And he likely had an expensive t-shirt to purchase. He waved goodbye to Anat. She ran toward him and raised her left boot and connected to his abdomen. He was aghast for air. He tensed up. He started chanting about the seven species of fruit and grains. The last of which is honey. He thought of when Samson killed the lion and how he found bees its tummy. As he was speaking his eyes were shooting honey at Anat. She was shooting prunes, dates and enlarged raisins out of her hands. Some hit Marc.

He began smacking her with pomegranates that were flying like Rivera’s cutter. She stomped her boots on 161Street. He shot barley. Raisins hit him the eye. He was temporarily blinded. He took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes. As his eyes opened honey with the speed of heavy rapids on the Delaware River shot out of them and knocked down Anat. She rose quickly. They battled for a few more moments. She turned looked at him and said, I’ve only just begun. Jen better watch herself. I know you’re silly enough to come to her rescue. But I am going to get her. By the way, I know you taught her about canoe swamps. Ask her what she did to me in camp. She walked off. He raced into the Stadium, bought a hot dog, took his seat and read the text he should have read an hour ago, “Marc I think we have an enemy. I was attacked by a crazy boot-clad woman who fights with dried fruit.”

Pomegranate — 15

Jen was loafing aimlessly around the city. She has her music blasting on her iPhone. She went to J.Crew to buy a skirt and some other items. She was thinking about reaching out to Marc again. But was confused. She knew she liked him. And she knew she didn’t. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him. She knew he probably wasn’t her match.

He was acting weird lately. She knew it was because of Alana. She thought to herself they think I am so dumb and daffy. Daffy, I am. But not dumb. I know they have something going. They always will. But so do I.

She got some ice cream and looked at shots of her and Marc on her iPhone. They were from many years ago. She saw the shots of them at concerts and their Delaware rafting trip.

She wanted to be happy and break away from her current situation.

Just as she wanted to break away so did Marc and Alana. But the three of them have been entangled in their web for years. What will it take to spin out?

Meanwhile, Marc was heading up to watch his beloved Yankees take on the Red Sox. As always the two teams were fighting for the division. Marc was walking along the sacred grounds where the old stadium resided. Tears were in his eyes. They always were at this holy spot.

His mind was set on the game. But as always he was thinking about Jen and Alana. He thought his couple of days in the camp would break him away. His break lasted for about two weeks. He went into the Stadium and purchased his hot dog, Pepsi, and knish. He washed his hands, went to his seat, and dug in. He hoped the game would change the course of his life. Baseball can do that.