I Wonder
(Picture lifted from 880 CBS’s website).
I wonder if the new one will have all those terrible dank warrens smelling vaguely of stale beer and worse. The warrens that were stabbed at regular intervals by shafts of light and marked by numbers, odd toward one field, even toward the other always carefully arranged so that the number you needed was furthest from the entrance you used.
I wonder if the green and blue explosion that hit you when you finally found that numbered tunnel and reached the end of it will still hit as hard.
I wonder if some kid will see some pitcher like Nolan Ryan shut down the Yankees in the first ballgame he ever attends and have to wait a whole year, that whole terrible year between 9 and 10 years of age before he gets to go again and finally see them win.
I wonder if during some lost season when the team is terrible some twenty something idiot and his best friend will get thrown out for being drunk and sitting in the first row behind the right field foul pole because the idiot and seen a hundred thousand million balls wrap past if over the 310 sign and always wanted to sit there and, you know, there were less than ten thousand people in the whole stadium and absolutely nobody at all within 5 sections of where we went and dammit it's the tenth inning anyway why don't you leave us alone? I wonder if afterwards they’ll go down to the World Trade Cen…I mean Freedom Tower and try to raid the office liquor cabinet at the best friend’s place of employment.
I wonder if the poorer fans who don’t even have the money to drink in bars will be able to buy six packs or bum bottles and hang out in the bleachers of a local park and knock back a few and laugh with their fellow fans while watching joggers kick up puffs of orangey clay crkch, crkch, crkch, crkch, round and round the old track before the game and then get so wrapped up in the hanging out they forget to go inside until the 3rd inning.
I wonder if the new one will have all those terrible dank warrens smelling vaguely of stale beer and worse. The warrens that were stabbed at regular intervals by shafts of light and marked by numbers, odd toward one field, even toward the other always carefully arranged so that the number you needed was furthest from the entrance you used.
I wonder if the green and blue explosion that hit you when you finally found that numbered tunnel and reached the end of it will still hit as hard.
I wonder if some kid will see some pitcher like Nolan Ryan shut down the Yankees in the first ballgame he ever attends and have to wait a whole year, that whole terrible year between 9 and 10 years of age before he gets to go again and finally see them win.
I wonder if during some lost season when the team is terrible some twenty something idiot and his best friend will get thrown out for being drunk and sitting in the first row behind the right field foul pole because the idiot and seen a hundred thousand million balls wrap past if over the 310 sign and always wanted to sit there and, you know, there were less than ten thousand people in the whole stadium and absolutely nobody at all within 5 sections of where we went and dammit it's the tenth inning anyway why don't you leave us alone? I wonder if afterwards they’ll go down to the World Trade Cen…I mean Freedom Tower and try to raid the office liquor cabinet at the best friend’s place of employment.
I wonder if the poorer fans who don’t even have the money to drink in bars will be able to buy six packs or bum bottles and hang out in the bleachers of a local park and knock back a few and laugh with their fellow fans while watching joggers kick up puffs of orangey clay crkch, crkch, crkch, crkch, round and round the old track before the game and then get so wrapped up in the hanging out they forget to go inside until the 3rd inning.
I wonder if some schmo who lucks into a suite thanks to a friend will spend a whole afternoon and rain-delayed evening there and get asked (politely) to leave when the game has been over for an hour and the lights are being turned off while the grounds crew manicures the field.
I wonder if some 11 year old kid will get to go to his first Yankees-Red Sox game, sit maybe fifteen rows from the very top of the stadium and get taken home early and arrive at his house in time to see the Yankees win on TV via a homer in the 13th inning.
I wonder if somebody will go to a late season game and then rush like hell afterwards to Little Italy for San Gennaro to try to get some sausage sandwiches and cheap wine and zeppoles and get soaked in one of those quick summer downpours only to find that the feast is closed up for the night.
I wonder.
I wonder if some 11 year old kid will get to go to his first Yankees-Red Sox game, sit maybe fifteen rows from the very top of the stadium and get taken home early and arrive at his house in time to see the Yankees win on TV via a homer in the 13th inning.
I wonder if somebody will go to a late season game and then rush like hell afterwards to Little Italy for San Gennaro to try to get some sausage sandwiches and cheap wine and zeppoles and get soaked in one of those quick summer downpours only to find that the feast is closed up for the night.
I wonder.
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