I’ll admit when I think of the Landmarks Committee and the SABR Baseball Map, what I love most is the mapping and chronicling of the obscure, out of the way spots that–like the brush dabs of a Monet–are so easily overlooked but collectively amount to a the masterpiece that is the geography of our National Pastime. Drive three hours south to see the pedestal a Jim Bottomley statue once stood atop? I’m there! An abandoned ballpark where minor league history was made? Count me in! A home plate inside a hospital? Why not!
Forgive me then for writing about the absolute least off the beaten path landmark of them all: Yankee Stadium. “Ah, you almost had us, Jason. Surely you mean the footprint of the old Yankee Stadium, the original House that Ruth Built!” Nope. “Good one then. Old Hilltop Park, home of the Highlanders? Nice!” Nope again. I’m talking about the Yankee Stadium the actual New York Yankees play in right now. “Sublime! We can’t wait to read about the obscure features and history only a top notch SABR researcher like yourself might uncover!” Oh, how I wish!
No big reveal awaits, only one fan’s reaction to visiting the most famous baseball site in the world for the very first time. The occasion was Game 3 of the 2024 World Series between (of course) the New York Yankees and my beloved Los Angeles Dodgers. Having never been to a World Series, much less one matching these two titans, some prodding from a friend convinced me this would be the year to cross off the ultimate baseball bucket list item. Plan A would naturally be to fly to Los Angeles, crash with friends, and cheer for my team surrounded by my fellow Dodger fans. However, various family and work commitments meant that Game 3 in New York was my only option. Framed differently, however, my rigid schedule was actually a blessing since it meant I’d also cross off a second bucket lister, Yankee Stadium itself.
Though I landed in Newark clad head to toe in Dodger Blue, I was not entering enemy territory. Apart from its sports teams, I am a New York super fan. I love everything else about the city, and most of all I love its people. In the same way that tourists used to visit the Los Angeles I grew up in and get excited if they saw a celebrity, I get excited just looking out the window of a cab (a New York taxicab!) or walking down the street and seeing ordinary New Yorkers and their unmatched mix of class, cool, and attitude.
My friend found us a hotel near Central Park and West 94th Street, about 4 miles from the Stadium. It wasn’t much to look at inside or out, but that was no matter. Our total stay in New York would be less than 24 hours before I’d head back to Chicago and she’d head back to L.A. Rather than take the subway right by the hotel, which would involve a transfer we might screw up, we opted to walk half a mile and catch the “B” line, which had its 161st Street exit right outside the Stadium.
As you might expect our train was filled with other fans heading to the game, though none in Dodger gear. The baseball nerd in me loved seeing various jersey numbers and guessing the player. Of course, most were gimmes like “2” and “99.” For most of the quick ride made conversation with a dad who was taking his two kids to their first World Series. As excited as I was for this game, I can’t even imagine how magical it would have been to me as a kid when even a meaningless Dodgers-Astros game in May was the kind of thing I looked forward to for a month and couldn’t stop talking about for months afterward. Lucky kids.
I believe our train was underground the entire time, so there was no real scenery to speak of beyond the sea of pinstriped jerseys. However, this was a feature, not a bug, as it meant we had no approaching view of the ballpark. Rather, when we exited the station and stepped into the light for the very first time, the majesty of Yankee Stadium hit us all at once. Bam! It was awesome, and I don’t really have words for its full frontal assault on the senses. Let’s just say the ballpark 100% makes its presence felt.
We entered through Gate 6 to a vista without subtlety. On banners above us there were Yankee legends lined up as far as the eye could see. Even knowing the history of the franchise, I stood there in disbelief at the number of absolute legends who have worn the pinstripes. This is literally a team where a healthy debate could be had as to whether Joe DiMaggio belongs on its Mount Rushmore. Joe DiMaggio.
As we made our way to Monument Park, we passed all the things you expect to pass at any modern ballpark: restrooms, sushi stands, gift shops, etc. However, like much in New York, the ordinary took on a magnitude not found elsewhere. This wasn’t just a men’s room. This was a MEN’S ROOM AT YANKEE STADIUM!
The fans were spectacular too. The jerseys I saw most were of the modern greats: Jeter, Judge, and Mariano, and they served as a reminder that the Yankees “big three” of this century alone could hold their own against the all-time big three of many baseball franchises. Of course, just to remind everyone that the Yankees had other great players too, there was the occasional 3, 5, or 7, not to mention deeper cuts like 15, 20, and 26. Oddly, I don’t recall seeing a single 44, which is THE jersey to wear if you’re looking to petition the baseball gods for postseason miracles.
Monument Park itself was essentially where the random bombardment of Yankee greatness gave way to order. So famous is the Yankee pantheon that there was no reason to even read the plaques. Our very DNA as baseball fans is constituted from the stories and achievements of these men. Ask most fans to tell you about a player on their team who won five World Series and they quickly realize there aren’t any. Ask a Yankee fan, and they ask “Which one?” or “Only five?”
That said, Monument Park was not without welcome surprises, including plaques honoring Nelson Mandela, Stonewall, 9/11, and various Papal visits. However, an unwelcome surprise was that the largest monument by far belonged neither to Ruth nor Gehrig nor Mantle but to George Steinbrenner. Could there be any greater blasphemy in Baseball’s holiest temple? I get it that the Yankees won some titles under his tenure, but what Yankees owner hasn’t won titles? Yankee fans will have to let me know what they think of this. I suppose the Dodger equivalent would be a statue of Walter O’Malley four times the size of our Jackie Robinson and Sandy Koufax statues. I just don’t get it.
Our next stop might have been the Yankee Museum, but we opted instead to grab dinner and head to our seats, which were by no means close. We were in Section 408, which technically qualified as in the ballpark but equally felt halfway to the Moon. Had the Goodyear blimp made a flyover, we might have had to duck. We would have sooner been struck by a comet or asteroid than a foul ball.
When you get caught between the moon and New York City
I know it’s crazy, but it’s true
If you get caught between the moon and New York City
The best that you can do
The best that you can do
Is fall in love
And fall in love I did!
The Hardball Voyager 
Outstanding recap. So glad you got to do this — and see a Dodgers win!
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