"GEE TAH, YOO-NET…GO KILL YASELF!" (By Jan Sumner)
Yankee Stadium, September 16th, 2006, Yankees - Red Sox… and I was there!
It was my first, and most assuredly, my last trip to the “House That Ruth Built.” This was a make up game of the rainout on June 7th. Ten of us decided to return to the Big Apple, take in some New York ambiance, culminated by the aforementioned game. We’d all purchased tickets on eBay, mine being the presumed best location. The seller had indicated they were “Lowers - Behind Home Plate.” Not until I got the tickets did it indicate they were in wheelchair seating. Hey, in most ballparks, arenas and stadiums handicapped seating is good, sometimes real good. The rest of our traveling party was spread out at various locations around the ballpark.
Before the game I had to leave two tickets I’d sold on eBay (should have kept them!) at Will Call. Not having been there before I asked a policeman where that might be. He told me to keep going on around the stadium and when I came to a tall post that looked like a bat, I was there. With my wife and one other couple in tow we started around the edifice and I could soon see a tall metal post with tape wrapped around the top simulating a baseball bat. At best this was a stretch, but whatever, we were there, well almost there. There were barricades across the walkway preventing us from reaching the bat. Another police officer stopped us and asked if we had luxury box tickets. “Well, I have pretty good seats…I think, but no not luxury box,” I said trying to be clever. Apparently, this was only somewhat amusing to my friends and wife because he looked at me as if he wanted to cuff me. Then with a look of deep satisfaction he said, “You’re gonna have to walk aaaallll the way around the stadium till ya come to some blue awnings…that’s Will Call!”
With that bit of insightful and helpful news off we went. If I’d known then this was going to be the best view of the ballpark we were going to have, I’d have made an effort to enjoy it more. Not knowing, however, how far and how long this might take, and as I needed to make sure the purchasers of the tickets had them on time, we threw it in high gear and hustled around to Will Call. Once there I realized that when we’d been stopped the first time, we were about ninety feet from where we now stood. Ah yes, efficiency at its best…it would get better.
Somewhat out of breath and a little frustrated, I was told by the friendly Will Call employee, “Ya’s gotta take it ta Gate Fooor then inside ta winda 80, then the ones picken it up has ta come ta outside winda 79 ta getem, gottit!”
< Gate Fooor can't be far away.
Having almost understood these directions we made our way to “Gate Fooor.” There we was stopped again, “Hold it, yas got a backpack,” a guy, seemingly in charge, said to Steve. Steve and Sherry our good friends had made this exciting journey with us and had tickets in tier three above home plate. They now made Steve check his backpack, back near the main entrance across the street in an open shelf contraption guarded by…well, who knows, maybe another fan or a local felon, for a nominal $5 fee. The irony of this was Karen and I noticed other fans getting in with backpacks on. Maybe it was a jurisdiction thing or maybe they could somehow tell we wasn’t New Yorkers. Karen waited for them, while I went in to leave the tickets at winda 80. We all reconnected at Gate Fooor and took off for our seats. We agreed to meet back at; you guessed it, Gate Fooor, after the game.
Karen and I darted through a portal on the lower level just so we could see the famous ballpark. We knew we were behind home plate somewhere so I asked an usher for directions. He looked at the tickets, looked at me, then looked at another usher and smiled. I asked, “Pretty good seats huh?” They both began to chuckle, “Oh yeah…reeeal good!” He pointed up behind home plate under the bleachers, “You’re right up there,” he said snickering, “In the back.”
What we were hoping for.....
What we got!
This is a slight exaggeration, but believe me not by much. We were in what’s called an “alcove” which in Yankee Stadium jargon means, viewing the game through a mailbox slit. I won’t go into all the details here, but suffice it to say, WE COULDN’T SEE THE FIELD!!!!!
After sulking through the first inning, I talked to one of the ushers and she promised to move us into an actual seating area by the second or third inning, in the mean time we’d just have to listen to the game. Good to her word she moved us up to the front row of the handicapped seating at the start of the third inning. Now, this is what I’m talking about, we could see from the top of the outfield fence all the way down to home plate. The stands, the scoreboard, the lights, a fly ball, forget about it. But…at least we could see some of the action and all we really had to do was follow the movement of the players to know where the ball was going.
We had of course moved from the quiet solitude of our alcove out in the action, into the voices and noises of the game as it were. There were several young men in front of us who’d already had too much to drink and were dead sure every player they yelled at could hear them. Now I’m quite sure the players couldn’t, but we certainly could. One of them actually had a shirt on that said, Zoo York - yeah baby! Beyond the decibel level, they were incessant. And I guess the most amazing part to me was how quickly they turned on their own players. Basically it went something like this: “Come on Gee Tah, hit the ball” then when Jeter grounded out, “Gee Tah, you idiot, go kill yaself!” Randy Johnson was the starter for the Yanks and pitched well, into the fourth. Then he began to look tired and they turned on him, “Yoo-Net, what’s the matter with the Yoo-Net?” The man next to me, who was from the Bronx and had been going to Yankee games forever, was really getting irritated and as Johnson began pawing at the dirt yelled out, “Yoo-Net what a ya digging at the dirt for? C’mon Yoo-Net throw the ball!” I finally turned to him and told him that since Johnson was 43 and it was a long season he just might be tired. His response, “What…mentally?…C’mon throw the ball Yoo-Net!”
As the Goodfellas in front of us continued to get louder and more obnoxious
even he became irritated.
He finally began to lean forward over the railing and yell, “Youngsta, SHUT UP!! But since they were feeling no pain and were still yelling longer and louder than he was they never heard him.
By this time Karen and I were just praying the game would end. Since it was the second game of the day it hadn’t started till 8 p.m. so we figured it would be over 11 or 11:30…wrong! We didn’t get out of there till well after midnight, then had to meet up with Steve and Sherry, go get his backpack, then fight our way onto the subway.
There the entertainment continued as at least three thousand young intoxicated Yankees fans crushed their way on board. Sadly for one young couple with Red Sox attire, they too had made their way on and were immediately intimidated and humiliated by the chanting crowd. They stood like statues trying to ignore the insults and I’m certain hoping they wouldn’t get pounded.
When we got off the couple was still alive, but wishing they could disappear.
It was an experience not to be forgotten. Don’t get me wrong, the rest of the trip was uneventful and fun, it was just our trek to Yankee Stadium. There’s not doubt Yankee fans are passionate and loud. That’s great if you’re winning, but if you’re not…look out!
I guess I was surprised how quickly they’d turn on Jeter and Johnson. I mean, JETER? Come on, the guys an icon there and arguably one of the top ten players in the game. But be that as it may, if he grounded out, especially with runners on – Gee Tah…Go Kill Yaself!
< GeeTah. Yoonit > 
It’s nice to see Jan Sumner enjoyed his visit to Yankee Stadium. Jan, an author and former batting practice pitcher for the Rockies, writes a column for this website, “Dog Days of Sumner.” This particular column though, deserved it’s own page. However, being a Yankees fan who has seen countless games in baseball’s grand cathedral, I would have to say that Jan’s account is full of lies. I would never tell Gee-Tah to “go kill yaself.” Yoo-Net?…..Maybe. BR.
