Farewell to an Icon: Yankee Stadium, 1923-2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008 by Brooks D. Simpson
What Gettysburg is to battlefields, Yankee Stadium is to ballparks. Both are special places to me. Four
generations of Simpsons have visited both places. I remember my first visit to both places, and I remember how important it was to me to bring my daughter Rebecca, a diehard Yankees fan, to Yankee Stadium in 2006. We had obtained tickets some time before, and on the day of the game both of us were sick … but we were going to go. And we did. We took the Long Island Railroad into Penn Station, walked up to Grand Central Station, and boarded the 4 train for the Stadium. When we got there, it was off to Monument Park. When I was a kid, the monuments were in play in deep center field (the ballpark closing today is a renovated version of the ballpark of Ruth, Gehrig, DiMaggio, Mantle, and a young Bobby Murcer and Thurman Munson).
The ballgame itself was a Yankee victory, 12-3 over the Baltimore Orioles, and our tickets cost $75 apiece (I recall mailing in a check for $12 in 1970 and getting back three behind-home-plate box seats for a twilight doubleheader against the Minnesota Twins).
Like Gettysburg, Yankee Stadium is as much about family history as it is about a larger history. I first saw the Stadium on television in 1966 or 1967, and I’ll see it for the last time on television tonight. So I have two top-six lists of memorable moments. The first list involves what I saw on television: the second list involves games I saw in person. Yes, the Aaron Boone homer in 2003 was memorable, in part because I got to celebrate it with my son Buddy, who had been a Yankee fan long before he became my son. Love him, hate him, you can’t forget Reggie Jackson’s three home runs that capped the Yankees’ first World Series win in my active rooting experience. Nor could I forget how nineteen years later Charlie Hayes squeezed the final out of the 1996 World Series. I loved game one of the 1998 World Series, in which Tino Martinez broke a postseason slump with a grand slam to top the Padres.
Three years later, Martinez and Derek Jeter spearheaded a tremendous World Series comeback game, and the Yankees repeated that magic the following night. But for me, what will stand forever is Bobby Murcer’s magnificent tribute to his fallen friend, Thurman Munson, on August 6, 1979, when, after the Yankees had buried their captain in the afternoon, Murcer drove in all five runs in a 5-4 triumph … over those same Baltimore Orioles.
Everyone knows of those games. My personal in-person favorites are in their way no less special. In 1999, I took my father to a September game in the Bronx, where the Yankees rallied late to tie the Devil Rays, then
prevailed in extra innings when Alfonso Soriano hit his first major league home run, a walk-off blast just inside the left field foul pole. Then there was Bat Day in 1970, when my father took my sister and me to the ballpark, only to have the bus get stuck blocks from the stadium. We got in as the game was just underway: I still have my treasured Murcer bat, while Joy picked up (and later gave to me) her Munson bat. The Yankees lost that day to the White Sox, but they did not lose when Rebecca and I went to see the Yankees in 2005, a game made memorable when we saw the rarest of sights: Randy Johnson laughing. That was Rebecca’s first game in Yankee Stadium: my first game was on May 17, 1969, when the Yankees beat the California Angels (as they were known then), 6-0, a game topped by an inside-the-park home run by Yankee catcher John Ellis, who was playing in his first major league game. I took my father and sister to a July 1973 doubleheader against the Cleveland Indians during the stadium’s 50th anniversary: the Yankees swept both games, with Murcer, my favorite Yankee, having a tremendous day, including a home run in the second game.
That was my last experience in the old (pre-renovated) Stadium. My best may well have been another doubleheader, the previously-mentioned 1970 twilight doubleheader against the Twins, where we sat behind home plate, just a few rows off the field. The Yankees won the opening game rather handily. We noted that if we turned around and looked up, we could see the Yankee broadcasters, including Phil Rizzuto. My sister waved at Rizzuto, and Phil, wonderful as always, waved back. I went one step further, making my way up to the booth between games, and getting the announcers’ autographs (I still have that piece of paper as well). Game two (my first night game in person) was a close affair, and I could see my father getting worried (this was the New York City of the Lindsay years). How was he going to get two kids home safely to suburbia in the dead of night via subway and train? Finally, at the end of the eighth inning of a 1-1 tie, he announced
that we were going to leave at the end of the next inning, win, lose, or tied. Needless to say, I was extremely unhappy. Mike Kekick (he of the infamous wife-swapping with Fritz Peterson several years later [Peterson had won the first game]) got out of a jam in the top of the ninth. Murcer (who else?) reached first to lead off the ninth, moved to second on a sacrifice bunt, reached third after an intentional walk and Munson hitting into a fielder’s choice. Two outs. One more out and we’re gone. Gene Michael, the light-hitting shortstop, pinch-hit, with Twins ace reliever Ron Perranoski on the mound. Michael got around on one of Perranoski’s pitches and pulled it down the left field line … just foul. Strike two, I believe. It didn’t look good. And then the ghosts came out for this thirteen year old kid, for with it all on the line, Perranoski reared back … and uncorked a wild pitch. As the ball bounced back, straight towards us, Murcer scampered home, the Yankees won, 2-1 … and I was as happy as happy could be.
Much has changed over the years. Murcer, Munson, and Rizzuto are gone (Mickey Mantle was already a legend when I became a baseball fan). Don Mattingly and Martinez are retired. So is Bernie Williams, even if he refuses to admit it. Bob Sheppard, the voice of Yankee Stadium, has been ailing (you knew you were in the Stadium when he came over the PA system). So it will be left to Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera, and Jorge Posada (my three current favorite Yankees) to carry on the tradition in the new building just north of the present Stadium.
Farewell, good friend.







