Tragedy Turned Triumph

One of the biggest highlights of my adult life came in 2001, just a few weeks after one of the worst tragedies in our nation’s history. I was at work and sitting there on the fax machine was an offer for tickets to Game 4 of the American League Championship series – Yankees vs. Mariners. I went into my boss’ office and said, “Do you think I should take my dad to see a playoff game in New York?” He responded by pulling $100 out of his wallet and said, “That should get you started!”

That next week my mom, dad, older sister and I were on our way to New York to watch what would end up being one of the greatest games I have ever seen! It was a classic that not even Billy Crystal could script – Roger Clemens started for the Yankees and ended up being on one side of a pitchers duel – there was no score until the 8^th inning and by the top of the 9^th inning the game was tied. An unwritten rule for managers in baseball is when you are at home and the game is tied, you bring in your closer (generally your most reliable and lights out pitcher on your staff) – the assumption is that your team will win it in the bottom of the 9^th since home team has the last at bat.

The perfectly scripted game continued when Mariano Rivera was brought in to pitch the top of the 9^th. I have been to a lot of Yankee games and watching The Sandman (Rivera’s nickname because he puts people to sleep) pitch is the chocolate frosting on the already proverbial moist delicious yellow cake that was this experience. He made THREE pitches...only THREE, to get THREE people out. Unheard of but again, Rivera is arguably the greatest closer of all time – so this was just another day in the life of Yankee fan. A fan who is blessed to have Rivera on their team.

It was the home team’s time to bat…I was so nervous…my stomach was in knots. I couldn’t possibly spend all this money, come all this way to watch the Yankees lose this game! Crossing my fingers, rocking back and forth I could feel the tension…the whole stadium standing in anticipation. With one out in the bottom of the 9^th and Scott Brosius on base; Alfonso Soriano (in what was officially his rookie year) hit a walk-off homerun to win the game and sent the Leonards as well as the rest of the stadium into pure pandemonium! The city that was torn apart weeks earlier was brought back together. No one wanted to leave the stadium. People were crying, hugging, cheering, and dancing to Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York,” avoiding the reality that awaited them outside the stadium.

For now, all they knew was that the Yankees had won THIS game 3 to 1 and were one win away from another World Series (WS). In that moment, nothing mattered but baseball. As most sports can do, baseball helps you forget and transports you into an otherworldly state of elation! That night baseball reminded me that it was ok to be excited about something that can seem so trivial. In this moment baseball wasn’t trivial – it was intregal to the happiness of 18 million people plus all the converted New Yorkers post-9/11. It gave me a heightened sense of pride – for my country and the team that represented some of what makes this country great!

This baseball experience reminded me that the team I had grown to love had personally provided a moment in my life that I would never forget.

This trip only enhanced my fanaticism – it left me wanting more. My pilgrimage over the next 9 years included visits to 8 different stadiums (Qualcomm, Coors Field, SafeCo, Metrodome, Petco Park – yes, I know the second Padres park on my quest but it was new to me, Oakland Coliseum, AT&T Park, Rangers Ballpark in Arlington) including the 3 stadiums prior to 2001 (The Old Yankee Stadium, Dodger Stadium and Angel Stadium). I tried to visit each stadium while the Yankees were in town and for the most part it worked, but I realized it might take too long so last summer I changed that. I feel like that SNL skit…I’ve got a fever and the only cure is more baseball. It IS a sickness. My desire, curiosity and determination left me wanting more…MORE BASEBALL (or cowbell).

That desire became a mission, a mission to see different parts of America – parts of America that shared the same love I did. Most people leave America for culture, but I think there is plenty of cultural experiences right here in the good ol’ US of A. Baseball is its own culture – heck, I’ve kept a game on mute so the Yankees would “win” (because I turned it on mute when they were losing and I didn’t want to hear the home crowd cheer then when they started to come back, I thought watching it on mute was appropriate and it helped them mount their comeback) and have worn the same perfume every day during the playoffs – thanks to my Stella McCartney perfume, the Yankees won the WS; I called in sick after the 2001 WS loss…THIS, my friends, is real culture. Crazy and fanatical, but real.