My First Trip to Yankee Stadium

Chapter 3

My most memorable memory is probably my first Yankee game. Being a huge Yankee fan, going to Yankee stadium is a big deal, and it was very special for me. It began when my friend, Bevin, invited my dad and I to go to a Yankee game and, of course, it was very exciting, but not in the way you may think.

The stadium was huge! There were so many different gates and thousands of people. I entered the building and saw vendors and people galore. Bevin and I walked into Yankee stadium and I was amazed. There were seats and seats that just kept going up like there was no end (most of them were empty because it was only batting practice). The field was breath taking; freshly cut grass, new white paint, the delicious smell of stadium hot dogs and peanuts. And there, on the field, were the New York Yankees warming up. I could see the blackened windows in center field and left field that inside held the many different clubs. I can not believe it, I am actually here! I am at Yankee Stadium! I felt like I was going to faint.

“Are you guys hungry or should we get food later, before the game starts?” asked Mr. Walker.
“We should go to the Audi Club now!” replied Bevin and I at the same time.

We walked to the front of the stadium and went up a couple flights of stairs. We showed our badges to security and walked in. In the middle there was a circular bar with 5 people surrounding it, waiting to be served. To the left of that there were about 8 round tables in two rows with 4 chairs at each table. The tables in the front row had a wonderful view of the field and all the tiny players. From up so high the players looked like little ants running around in a small patch of bright green grass. Above the tables, hanging off the wall, was a muted 50” flat screen TV with the pregame on. We took a seat at a table in the second row, closest to the back wall, staring in awe.

“Would you like anything to drink?” the waitress asked our table. I looked at the fancy menu and decided on a root beer to drink and told Bevin’s dad.
“Yes, we will have two Budweiser’s and two small root beers,” said Mr. Walker. She left and I looked out onto the field to watch batting practice. Curtis Granderson came up to take some easy swings before almost hit one out into the main parking lot. He was tall and muscular, making hitting easy. I studied his improved form and watched as his hands barely moved anymore making him a lot quicker at getting the bat around his body to make contact with the ball. Kevin Long did a great job. Granderson is such a better hitter now!
“How do you like it so far?” asked Bevin.
“It is awesome! Better than I ever imagined.” I replied as Brett Gardner came up to bat. Brett Gardner, even though he was a so-so hitter, was extremely fast and raced down the first base line like a cheetah running to catch its prey. These guys are amazing! It takes a lot of skill to become a Yankee. The waitress came back with our drinks.
The glasses with the beer in them were about a foot and a half tall but were only about 3 inches in diameter at the top. She passed out the drinks and left.
“Hey look, it is your lover, Mark Teixeira,” mocked Bevin.
“Ha ha, real funny,” I said, risking a quick glance at him. I turned around the correct way in my seat so now I was sitting across from Mr. Walker and my back was to the field with my dad on the left. My dad and Mr. Walker were talking about the Yankees starting pitchers when Mr. Walker’s elbow quickly moved over, knocking over is beer glass. The glass tipped over towards me and shattered into a million pieces. The beer spilled over the side of the table and my all over my shirt and shorts. I just sat there for a few seconds, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Time seemed to slow down and I could see the beer dripping off the table in slow motion, big drops falling on my shirt. The stream of beer coming off the edge of the table looked like a waterfall. My dad grabbed my arm and tried to pull me out of the way of the spilling beer.
“Move!” he screamed, but it was too late. My shirt and shorts were soaked and I smelled like I had been drinking all day long. I looked down, but could still feel every one's eyes staring at me. Oh my gosh! I am soaked! Why did this have to happen to me? I thought. I felt the warm blood rush to my cheeks as the waitress handed me a handful of paper towels. I wiped some of it off, but my shirt still weighed twice what it should. Time sped up to normal speed again and my dad looked at me. All he could say was,
“I hope we do not get pulled over by a cop on the way home.” Since my shirt was soaked beyond repair, Bevin and I walked to the gift shop to get me new shirt. I got my new blue Teixeira jersey and changed out of my sticky shirt. As I walked back into the club, it felt like every one’s eyes were burning holes in the back pf my head. They probably see me as the girl that got beer spilled on her, I thought. Bevin and I walked back to the table. Everything was back to the way it was before the accident. The tables and floors were all clean and my dad and Mr. Walker sitting next to each other. When I got to the table, Mr. Walker apologized about 50 times and when we were all done with our drinks, Mr. Walker turned to us and said,
“Are you ready for the game?”
Having this experience helped me realize that I can not let one bad thing ruin a fun day, because it might turn into something great. I know now that the spilled beer was an accident, but because of the beer, I got to get a jersey of my favorite player that I still wear now.