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Pandemonium. Euphoria. Ecstasy.
All words that could be used to try and describe the scene outside Yankee Stadium Wednesday night immediately following Robinson Cano's flip to Mark Teixeira to end the 2009 World Series. The proud people of New York, including yours truly, danced, laughed, and cried the night away in the area surrounding the stadium, celebrating their team's 27th World Championship.
There hasn't been a truly perfect night in the World Series since 1956, but if you were in the Bronx, you would've been convinced otherwise.
For spoiled-rotten Yankee fans, (let's face it, we all are) this night was the perfect ending to a season packed with special moments. It had been nine years since the Yankees last danced around the Shea Stadium infield as the kings of the baseball world, an eternity for most of us. But for a younger generation of fans, it is the first time many of us will truly savor the flavor all winter long.
Despite my best efforts, I was unable to obtain tickets to be inside "The House that Jeter Built" for what I was sure would be the final game of the year. So instead, I gathered a cavalry of friends and headed to The Dugout, a bar conveniently located directly across the street from the Hard Rock Cafe in the right field corner of the stadium. Besides, I was quite aware that ESPN Radio was giving away tickets to the game during a commercial break of the Michael Kay show, which was being broadcasted from the bar.
Before heading into the bar, and continuing the drinking that had ceased at the 161st street subway station, we headed to the McDonalds for a pit stop. There, waiting in line to order like any other schmo, was Scott Caan. Yes, Tweeder from Varsity Blues, the guy from the Ocean's movies and who's a total prick to Eric on Entourage.
While grabbing a photo with him, my friend offered up the biggest slam-dunk stupid question he could've at the time.
"Hey Scott," he said. "So you uh, going to the game?"
"No, I'm just going to McDonalds in the fucking Bronx," he replied as I laughed out loud at my friend.
Sure, pal. Pretend like you're not a B-lister on your best hair days. Hell, I bet my buddy Fox wouldn't even show him on t.v. when they did their celebrity fly-bys at some point during a lull in the game. I was right.
So into the bar we went, seeking out Michael Kay and his free tickets. I was dead set on giving myself the best chance I could to be inside the Stadium. I refused to give up hope.
We each filled out a raffle form and made our way to the front of the roped off area where their stage was set up. He was flanked by the ever-opinionated Don LaGreca, who I can't get enough of even if he's a Mets and Devils fan, and the lovely (yet slightly past her prime) Bonnie Bernstein. All I kept thinking was "Holy living Christ, Michelle Beadle used to be on this show. Why couldn't she wait to take that big promotion, knowing I'd come find her?!" I questioned my faith for a moment, then focused back to the issue at hand: Getting those tickets.
We each filled out a raffle form and made our way to the front of the roped off area where their stage was set up. He was flanked by the ever-opinionated Don LaGreca, who I can't get enough of even if he's a Mets and Devils fan, and the lovely (yet slightly past her prime) Bonnie Bernstein. All I kept thinking was "Holy living Christ, Michelle Beadle used to be on this show. Why couldn't she wait to take that big promotion, knowing I'd come find her?!" I questioned my faith for a moment, then focused back to the issue at hand: Getting those tickets.
The show hosted a guest speaker, Mike Missanelli, with a bit of a Philadelphia bias. Safe to say the Yankee faithful in attendance didn't take too kindly to his prediction that the Phillies would force a game 7. The ensuing chants of "ASS-HOLE!" and "DOUCHE-BAG!" were enough to make ESPN Radio go to a commercial break not once, but twice. Michael Kay, who was loving every second of it, couldn't keep a straight face when he asked us to tone the chants down a bit, at least while they were on the air. That's the sort of thing you could only find in the Bronx. From then on, you could feel it. There was no way it wasn't going to happen tonight. The stars had been aligned.
The show went to a commercial again around 7:30, the time when they would announce the winner of the tickets. At this point, I was having too much fun to care that I had a better chance of being struck by lightning indoors than I did of being at the game. The raffle came and went, the winner, a pair of gentlemen who had been conversing with a few ESPN personalities just a few minutes prior, but I didn't care. I was up for the next round of drinks, so I began to head back to the bar when I heard one of the ESPN interns call out to the crowd.
"Okay, Yankees fans, now it's time for ESPN Radio 1050 Trivia. The first person t
"Okay, Yankees fans, now it's time for ESPN Radio 1050 Trivia. The first person t
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