Priceless: A Father/Son Trip to Yankee Stadium

It was one of those days that you knew was going to be great, but turned out being better than you ever dared to dream. One of those days where reality is transcended, where the seemingly impossible happens. The day where you wake up the next morning and have to ask yourself "Did that really happen?" A day in which a single moment ends up being forever etched in your mind and gives you goosebumps to think about years later. I was fortunate enough to experience one of those moments last year.

The day was Saturday, April 7th, 2007. In upstate New York, it was cold and windy, typical April weather. The Major League Baseball season was one week old. My roommate Donny, my friend Drew (supradrewbaby here), his brother-in-law and now my friend as well Scott (SGIL10, now IAmTheMcLovin), piled into Drew's Durango and headed for New York City. On the way, we met and picked up my Dad and two of my brothers. The Yankees were playing the Orioles that day. My Dad and one brother are Orioles fans, and this was the only time during the season that would work for us all to go see the Yankees/Orioles. Otherwise, we would have waited for a warmer month. Thank goodness we decided to go that day. It was my Dad's, brothers and Scott's first visit to the hallowed grounds of Yankee Stadium. I wanted them to get to see it before the Yankees moved into the new ballpark in 2009. Plus, I had so many great memories with my Dad that involved baseball games, including numerous trips to Camden Yards, so I wanted to make some more.

After a slight detour (thanks to me giving bad directions), during which we almost got T-boned (to this day Scott blames me for his near death experience), we parked in a parking garage near Yankee Stadium. Bundled up in sweatshirts, coats, hats and gloves, we walked towards the ballpark. The streets were filled with vendors and fans and you could feel the excitement in the chilly 40 degree air.

We were the first in line outside the gates, and at 11:05 the gates opened. We flooded in. If you've never been to Yankee Stadium, it's unique because no matter where your seat tickets are, they allow you to go down to field level. Nothing compares to walking down that tunnel and out into the sea of blue and green. Rows and rows of blue seats stretch out into the sky. You've never seen grass so green or dirt so brown. Monument Park stands there, the home of legends. It's a must see when visiting Yankee Stadium. The white lines and the facade bring it all together. After reminding yourself to breath again, you realize that your heroes, professional baseball players, are warming up and playing catch right in front of you. You can call their name, and often they'll turn and wave or say something in return. That day, Pettite and Pavano played long toss fifteen feet from where we stood on the right field wall. My Dad and youngest brother went down the first base line, where Damon and others signed autographs. My brother almost got one.

After batting practice, we got food and found our seats, on the upper level just behind third base. Our view was terrific, and it was much warmer in the sun. We'd frozen in the shade and wind for two hours. The Orioles scored a run in the first. In the bottom of the first, with the Orioles up 1-0, Alex Rodriguez crushed a two-run bomb into the left field seats. It was looking like it was going to be a good day. However, over the next seven innings, the Orioles pieced together runs, thanks to a horrible first major league outing by Kei Igawa. As we entered the bottom of the eighth inning, Baltimore led 7-3. With two outs, Jason Giambi stepped to the plate. I looked at one of my friends and said, "Watch. Giambi's going deep here, then we'll win on a walk-off in the ninth." Several pitches later, Giambi blasted one into the short right field porch to make it 7-6. You could feel the momentum changing. You could sense the excitement of a possible Yankee comeback ripple through the ballpark.

However, our excitement was short-lived, as Orioles closer Chris Ray retired the first two Yankee hitters in the bottom of the ninth. We began to force ourselves to accept the very real possibility that the Yankees would fall just short on this day. My Dad and brother were all cheers, while we Yankee fans began to pray as Robinson Cano stepped into the box. He drove a first pitch fastball right back up the middle for a single! We were alive! We had a glimmer of hope. Yankee fans rose to their feet, urging on Jeter to follow suit and just get a base hit. After a tense, long at-bat, Jeter drew a walk. Two on, two out, down one run. The anticipation was building. The Stadium was growing louder and more intense by the moment. Bobby Abreu stepped in and took a pitch on the kneecap. A mixture of cheers and boos erupted as Abreu hobbled to first. Into the batters box stepped Alex Rodriguez. Bases loaded, two outs.

Every person in Yankee Stadium was on their feet. It was as if the entire city had stopped. The tension was unbelievable. No one dared breathe. We were witnessing the kind of drama that you can only dream of seeing on a baseball diamond. We were on the verge of witnessing that rare moment that is usually reserved to movies and legends. I was in shock that it had even transpired to this. Five minutes ago we were down to our last out. Now, we were one pitch away from winning the game, one pitch away from the losing the game. The irony of it struck me. All this drama, and we were 90 feet away from tying the game, yet still a popup or ground ball away from losing. My fists were clenched. I couldn't breath. There was this massive weight of daring to hope anticipation on my chest. I prayed for a miracle. Now it was all on the shoulders of Arod.

The count went to 1-2. 50,510 people held their collective breath, fully expecting their "great but never comes through in the clutch" superstar to pop up, strike out or weakly ground out. Ray threw a 1-2 fastball. Arod swung and connected. The ball rocketed off his bat into the clear blue sky, headed for centerfield. The Stadium erupted as it continued to carry. Time stopped. The ball cleared the centerfield fence and landed in the black "batters eye". Theeeeeeeeee Yankees win! Yankees win! 10-7! Yankees win! A roar unlike I have ever heard exploded. Just as the ball cleared the fence, I swear I jumped higher than I ever have, both arms raised into the air. Time moved in slow motion, as I seemed to hang there, exhaling a loud "YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!". When I finally came down, I landed on and shattered my plastic Yankees cup. I turned to Drew and high fived him (Drew had elbowed poor Scott in the forehead and Scott was reeling), then jumped over some seats to hug my friend Donny. Yankee fans everywhere were embracing and high-fiving, jumping up and down and screaming their lungs out. Never have I felt such a feeling like I did in that moment, of sheer joy and disbelief. That moment is forever frozen in my mind, there to replay anytime I choose to close my eyes.

Arod rounded the bases with a huge grin on his face, then crossed the plate and was mobbed by his waiting teammates. After high-fives and hugs, he returned the dugout, but the fans did not let up. After a minute of cheering, Jeter pushed Alex out for a curtain call. The cheers grew even louder, reaching a crescendo as Rodriguez took off and doffed his batting helmet. I turned to my Dad, who was smiling, even though his Orioles had lost. "Wow, now that was a great ballgame", he said to me. "I don't mind losing for a moment like that". It was that moment that defined the day for me. Baseball with my dad. I have so many memories involving the two together. We knew we had witnessed something special together that many fans will never get to see in their life, no matter how many games they attend: a walk-off grand slam. For my dad, experiencing the day with his oldest son far eclipsed any baseball game. We came away with special memories that we will treasure forever.

On the way out of the stadium, fans were still going crazy. "Let's go Yankees" chants broke out everywhere. The ride home was long, but worth it. We relived the moment over and over. It never got old. Almost a year later, any time I think about it, or see a video online about it, I get chills. A few days later, my Dad sent me an e-mail, thanking me for arranging the trip and taking him to Yankee Stadium. He closed with "Let's do it again!"

As Opening Day of the 2008 MLB season approaches, I fully intend for us to make the trip again. I'd like to make it an annual tradition. For me, that day and that moment symbolized everything that I love so very much about the game of baseball. It's more than the sport itself. It's the intricate, beautiful things that make baseball different than any other sport. It's playing catch in the backyard with your Dad. It's Little League and high school baseball. It's attending your first minor league and/or major league game with your dad. It's watching your heroes play on the biggest stage of all. It's the fact that anything can happen on one given pitch to the next. It's the seamless double play and the ninth inning rally. It's the hit and run, the stolen base, the play at the plate, the strategy. It's the sound of wood solidly meeting rawhide. It's not necessarily who wins or loses, but the memories made along the way with your closest friends and family. I look forward to the day when, if God blesses me with a son, I can teach him the game of baseball and how to love and respect the game for the game itself; as well as take him to games and see the wonderment in his eyes that I felt as a boy, and to enjoy the game with him. I want to share the same experiences with my son and my Dad did with me. Hopefully, three generations of Longneckers will someday visit the new Yankee Stadium! To me, nothing is better than an spending an afternoon or evening at the ballpark, watching the game I love so dearly with the people I treasure the most.

We spent a small fortune that day on tickets, gas, tolls, parking and food, but to witness such an incredible moment with my Dad was absolutely priceless.