The Twelve Commandments of Yankee Stadium

So I heard a voice yesterday talking out of a burning trashcan. "God? I said, stopping in my tracks.

“No, it’s Yankee Stadium,” said the Voice. “You know, the place where you celebrated your batchelor party, your 30^th birthday, and where you saw David Well’s perfect game and Aaron Boone’s home run?”

I was stunned. Why in the hell would a stadium be talking out of a trashcan, and why in the hell would it be talking to me.

"Listen, the trashcan's a symbol of where I'm going to go after the end of the year. You know that us divine voices just love talking symbolism. We're all still trying to catch up with That Guy Jesus."

"Why me?"

"I needed someone to talk to. And you were the first person who walked past. Look – I’ve was watching the All Star Game on Fox and the whole thing was making me ill. Can’t people move on?”

“They’ll move on when you move on,” I said.

“Well,” said the stadium. “While we’re in the last few games of my existence – and every day has been counted down with some member of the Steinbrenner or some Yankee celebrity – I’m putting down some rules.”

“So go on then,” I said, somewhat arrogantly. Moses may have talked to God in the Burning Bush, but as far as I was concerned, I was in a direct discussion with Heaven.

Then a scrap of paper flew out of the can, and landed at my feat. 

Rule 1. People should not only know me as the “House that Ruth Built”. I am also the place to where "A-Rod gave Madonna Magnificent Tickets". 

Rule 2. When someone in the $400 field box seats leaves the stadium for good, Yankees staff should give seats to people that want to be there. It's no fun seeing empty seats ten rows behind home plate. Mr and Mrs Schwarz from the Upper West Side might not want to sit there anymore, but Mr and Mrs Smith from The Bronx might want to. And who does it hurt, really?

Rule 3. Yankees Staff: The Box Office staff should always look happy to help you. They’ve NEVER look happy to help people. Aren't they getting free tickets? Security:  Stop telling fans to “stay classy”. Yankee fans paid good money to abuse opposition fans. If you are doing this to protect Yankee fans, great. If you are doing it to protect the baseball tourists, then why? I'm for Yankee fans, aren't I? And be nice to the Bleacher Creatures. Despite the fact that they generally behave like children, they are packing it out in April when the bankers, lawyers and tourists are keeping away. And they'll be packing it out in early September when the Yankees are eight games back of Wild Card and AL East lead.

Rule 4. You should always go for a drink at Stan’s across the road prior to the game. Or afterwards on a Saturday or Sunday. Seeing all that sweat is a weird yet wonderful thing.

Rule 5. Always pick up some of the witty T-Shirts outside of Stan’s prior to the game. I am particularly enamoured with the ones which make rude comments about Boston's sexuality. It's time someone did - that guy Fenway has had it too good recently, hasn't he?

Rule 6.  There is no other stadium better than me. Even Wrigley. Although I do love the ivy.

Rule 7. Derek Jeter is God. Period.

Rule 8. There shall be no mention of Chuck Knoblauh – especially in his final season. Nor should you mention Alex Rodriguez in the postseason, Roger Clemens’ 2007,  Jason Giambi’s Golden Thong, or Johnny Damon’s arm.

Rule 9. When the Yankees and Indians meet again, I will bring back a plague of fleas on Cleveland’s pitching. Except it won’t be fleas hitting Paul Byrd- it’ll be hornets. Then we’ll see how he pitches!!

Rule 10. Any TV show involving games here must invoke about 400 Yankee Memories, which – of course- will be available for $199.99 within my hallowed gift shops. Or gift shops in cyberspace.

Rule 11. Thou shalt not steal stuff from my walls after my last game. Yes, even you, Derek.

Rule 12. Thou shalt not praise the move to the new Yankee Stadium – after all, the City of New York is paying for the walls of my Son to satisfy a team more focused on making more money out of the corporations rather than the ordinary fan – but instead slam it.

“So that’s it?” I asked.

“That’s it,” said the Stadium. “Now I’m must RSVP to the 'Torndown Club'. Old Busch Stadium and Ebbet's Field are always there. Tiger Stadium's just arrived, and me and my ugly New York brother Shea have been invited to join the show.”