First, the two of us took the train from Westchester to the ballpark. This alone is fantastic. No more parking wars (the cost to get in, the tips to get a half-decent spot, the battle to leave, the Deegan once you finally get out). A whopping $7.50 for the two of us, round trip, combined. Seventeen minutes. This is a good thing. A very good thing.

The only odd thing was the “chute” that has been built to herd the passengers to/from the trainstation, past the old stadium, to the new one. Seeing the old ballpark covered in protective netting while it’s disassembled was, I don’t know, unsettling and peculiar. I wasn’t wistful, but it was odd. Like seeing an old friend who was down on their luck and trying not to make eye contact with them. Yet, there she was…

We were at the ballpark fairly early, around 11:30 or so for a 1 pm game. We wanted to walk around, check out the place. At that time, there were very few lines to get in. Lots of ushers to check bags, hats, you-name-it. All painless.More staff helping is a good thing.

So in we go into the Great Hall. I love big pictures/banners hanging of the Yankee greats. I also loved the openness of it. On what was a very warm day, the breeze felt great. You can’t help but look up at these banners and reminesce about watching Goose and Guidry, Donnie and Winfield. Best part of these pictures, they were ALL wearing stirrups. I pointed this out to Jake and he gave me that smile and an “oh yeaaaah…” And then Jake asked if I could get him stirrups for Little League in the Fall. The kid gets it sometimes. Gotta love that.

So once you are done looking UP at all the good stuff, you look out across what I could only describe it as a flea market full of Yankee stuff. The whole place is a giant crowbar to separate your cash from your wallet. And credit cards are welcome, naturally. The first “booth” we saw was the Steiner Sports display. You, too, can own a piece of Yankees history… how about a 10′ section of outfield padding…just sign on the dotted line and someone will be by to take your soul shortly. Then it was onto all of the smaller booths, including every kind of Yankee tchotchke you could every imagine. It was an assault on your wallet. Crap to the left of you, useless stuff to the right. All I could say was “get me outta here”. Which was fine, as Jake and I were on a mission.

Up the escalator to the 2nd floor where we hoped we’d be early enough to visit the Museum. Not even close. The line serpentined down two ramps, well, that’s as far as we could see. Jake looked at me and said “I don’t want to wait in this line”. As much as I wanted to get into that museum, I had to agree. It had to be at least an hour. We were at a Stadium tour last September, before the old Stadium was closed, so we got up close and personal with Monument Park, so there wasn’t a burning desire to see that. So off we went, back downstairs, but to check out the seats, food and whatever else we could find. Turned out to be a great choice.

We found our section (109) and moseyed down to our seats, just to check ‘em out. Nice and padded. Very comfy. Another good thing. It was about noon time now and most of the players were inside. Except at the bottom of the walkway of our section. There, on the field, signing something was a Yankee. Jake and I hustled down and I told him it was Phil Coke. Having no paper or anything to sign, we agreed that if Jake could get to him, have him sign the underside of the brim of his well-worn, favorite Yankees hat. Right after we got to the wall, Coke moved towards the infield. I told Jake to follow him and ask him politely for a signature. Five minutes later, Jake comes back with the underside of his brim freshly autographed by Phil Coke! Not Jeter, but darn good enough. Another good thing. The boy was on Cloud Nine.

Having secured a major goodie, we set out to explore the concourses. Wide, lotsa food choices. Wonderful garlic fries smell. Many bathrooms. Water fountains…barely worked. On a day this hot, I knew this wasn’t going to be helpful. The prices of the basics are just silly. Seemed that most basics, like a burger or whatever were $12. And making things more troubling is the caloric content by every item. “Moe’s Billy Barou Nachos” had 1,410 calories! Seriously? That’s half a day’s caloric intake. Oof. (What’s with the knucklehead wearing a Sheffield jersey anyways? C’mon man, you’re an adult. Ditch the crappy jersey already. Not to mention, what’s with names on the back of Yankee jerseys> BOYCOTT these please, except for kid-sized jerseys. If you’re an adult wearing a Yankee jersey with a name on it, shame on you.)

Overall, the wide concourses, countless and new food choices and many bathrooms were a welcome sight. Not to mention the airiness of it. Made me feel like I was in Anaheim or something. Just so used to dark, dank, tight. Change is good, I guess.

Rollcall was great, as usual. One of my most favorite traditions anywhere. The fact that every player acknowledges the calls are wonderful. Just makes everyone feel like part of the game. Swisher, in right, plays to the Bleacher Creatures unlike any player I have ever seen, waving, saluting, laughing. No wonder he’s a fan favorite. He’s just fun to have around.

The game was humming along through five innings. We thought we might have a 2:30 affair on our hands. Then came the 6th inning and the wheels fell off for the Yanks. However, I wasn’t at my seat of half the inning as I went up to say hello to the FackYouk boys, Jay and Big Willie Style. Nice guys. We watched Aceves give up Pettitte’s mess on one of the many TV screens. Another good thing, the TV screens, that is. Shooting the breeze with Jay and Willie was fun; good laughs. It’s funny, I’ve built many relationships with readers and fellow writers and haven’t met most of you/them. It was good to actually say hello. I only regret not snapping a picture of us to post here. My bad. At least we saw Jeter hit a home run later (this is a pic the swing that did it, too)

Now, about the seats and field and stands… The seats, as I mentioned before, were very comfortable. Sitting where we were, lower section by the foul pole, I would have hoped there was more of a directional configuration towards home plate as I found myself adjusting and looking/turning left more than was natural. Overall, it was fine. The fact that the upper decks are no longer hanging over the lower decks, close to the field remains an issue. The sight lines, minus those in the bleachers along side the bar, are solid, but the intimacy is clearly absent. It’s a comfortable ballpark now. Not a bad thing, just different. It’s no longer prickly. No longer intimidating. It was a rebel bad-ass that got married, had his hair cut, leather jacket donated to the Salvation Army, and fitted in a pair of pressed chinos and an oxford. Just not quite the same.

Looking out, the giant –and I mean GIANT– scoreboard was easy to read and a joy to see. Surrounding it, however, was another assault on your optics… It resembled a larger-than-life advertising collage. However many ads they could fit/sell, that’s how many were there. I would have liked to see one of the “ribbons” of advertising on the upper decks used for something useful, like stats, out of town scores, something besides another AT&T ad. In case you hadn’t yet heard, Steiner’s having an auction of everything that ever once was in the old stadium.

I liked having the banners of each team in each division, in order of standing along the frieze. Very nice touch. I didn’t see, but wanted dearly to, the baseball bat atop the flagpole. Maybe I missed it. Maybe it’s already been sold by Steiner. It’s about the money, right?

We got Brother Jimmy’s BBQ’s pulled chicken sandwiches for lunch. Holy crap was that terrible. I LOVE BBQ and have eaten at Bro Jim’s when I used to live on the Upper East Side. This, however, was not BBQ. This was rubber. $10 bucks for each sandwich and $5 for each large Poland Spring (“official water of the NY Yankees”). Thirty dollars. The kids had a hotdog. Fine. We tried to refill the water bottles in the barely-running water fountain to save a few bucks. Took waaay too long, but we did it anyways as it was really hot by that point. Vanilla milkshakes at Johnny Rockets were stellar. I’m not sure if there was actually milk or icecream in these as their thickness defied basic milkshake physics. I swear, you could have held this milkshake with the straw as it was as stuck as boots in mud. But on a hot day, we didn’t care. I still wonder what additives were in that to keep it so darn thick. My buddy complained about the Bro Jimmy’s BBQ (next to Johnny Rockets) to the manager so two of the shakes were free. Good move by the manager. I think his name was Anderson, but I am not sure; I had a brain-freeze by that point.

We had to bolt in the 8th as that’s the downfall of the trains; they run on their schedule, at least some of them. We had to get rolling anyways to meet the rest of the families for dinner, so at least we got 8 solid innings in.

On our way out of the Stadium, my buddy told his daughter that they could get a NYY squirt bottle. After asking the woman at the deck if the price was correct (“$20 for a tiny squirty bottle?” “Yesss“), we went to quickly see if we could find anything that closely resembled it’s actual value. A MLB baseball in a thin plastic case… $30!!! We left empty handed. Let that be a lesson to the kids about the value of money! Sorry, that’s just obscene. Thirty dollars for a baseball. Good grief.

While walking thru the “chute” back to MetroNorth (“the official chute of the NY Yankees”?), my buddy picked up two small stones and handed them to the kids. Told them they now had authentic pieces of the old Yankee Stadium and they could sell them on ebay for a lot of money. Took them a good hundred yards before they realized he was kidding. At least I think he was kidding.

Seventeen minutes after boarding the train, we were at our stop. Less than 10 minutes later, we were jumping in the pool to cool off.

All told, we had a great day at the ballpark. It’s not the same as the old one and there are parts of me that is equally OK with that and also sad. I’ll get used to the new one but the memories of the old place won’t soon die.

Now, about that moat…