Since 2002, I have attended forty or so Yankee home games. Dad and I were there for game 2 of the World Series in 2003, when Andy Pettitte nearly pitched a complete game shutout and the crowd serenaded Bernie Williams, whose days in pinstripes were numbered. In 2007, I attended not one, but two games when Alex Rodriguez’s home run count sat at 499, and saw Joba Chamberlain hit 100mph as a reliever. This August, my parents and I witnessed a fifteen-inning marathon victory against the Red Sox. On September 9, my friend Laura and I cheered as Derek Jeter tied Lou Gehrig for the Yankees all-time hit record.
That is why I am here, writing a new post for the first time in months. I want to remember this one. I want to remember what it was like to watch from the left-field bleachers on that surprisingly pleasant October night.
Anything can happen in these short division series, so there was a palpable sense of unease in the stands as Twins’ pitcher Nick Blackburn took a no-hitter into the fifth inning. A.J. Burnett pitched well for the Yankees, but lived on the edge, hitting two batters and walking five more. The Minnesota Twins got on the board in the sixth, but Alex Rodriguez tied it up with a single in the next inning. But when the Twins took a 3-1 lead in the eighth, the new stadium became deathly quiet. The Yankees would lose this one, ending their 8-0 winning streak against the Twins and 15-0 run when tied after seven innings.
Or would they?
In every sport, there are an infinite number of subplots, backstories surrounding every player. Tonight, two of those subplots took surprising new turns.
Since 2004, Alex Rodriguez developed a reputation as a high-priced player who couldn’t hit in the playoffs. Coming in to the bottom of the ninth inning, he had already hit 3 RBI singles in the 2009 ALDS. Mark Teixeira, an expensive acquisition, was 0 for 6 in the ALDS until he singled to get on base in the ninth. Then A-Rod came to the plate, waited for his pitch, and sent it flying into the Yankees’ bullpen.
And the crowd roared. The bleachers shook. My friend Lenny and I high-fived each other and any stranger in striking distance. I felt like I’d had a heart attack. We were all stunned, delirious with disbelief. The game had been over, done, the series tied at one. Suddenly, the game was not over. Suddenly, A-Rod was the most clutch hitter in playoff baseball.
The game was still tied in the bottom of the eleventh, with Teixeira, A-Rod, and Hideki Matsui due up for the Yankees. If the Yankees were going to win, it would be in walk-off fashion. Everybody was betting on Rodriguez, the newly anointed Mr. October. I turned to my new best friends and bet on Teixeira, who, along with Derek Jeter, had not received a whipped cream pie to celebrate one of the Yankees 15 walk-off wins in the regular season. I bet on Teixeira, who risked becoming the new playoff struggler with his 1 for 7 start.
Mark Teixeira’s home run flew so quickly that we didn’t know what happened. The ball landed just to the left of us, in left field seats. Was it foul? Was it fair? It was gone! Another heart attack for me. Another walk-off win for the 2009 Yankees.
All 50,006 people in the crowd stood and applauded for a good five minutes. We screamed, we yelled, we high-fived, we hugged, we tried to fathom that yes, that actually did happen. We chanted “MVP” for Teixeira, even though Minnesota’s Joe Mauer has that prize sealed. We all stood in our seats and sang along to Sinatra. “I want to wake up, in a city, that never sleeps….” Do you know what it’s like, to hear 50,000 people ecstatically sing that song at the top of their lungs? It’s a little bit of heaven.
I’d never seen any of that before in my forty games at either Yankee Stadium. Never had I seen a crowd that was so united at the end of the game, that just didn’t want to leave. You won’t read about that in any of the official recaps. But I was there, at the House that Pie Built. It was spectacular.
Yes, Rafa. It must be love. Love for your incredibly chiseled arms. Oh, what, I was supposed to be talking about how effective this ad was. Sorry, I got a little distracted.
A few days ago I stepped off the subway and like any good New Yorker, I made a beeline for the exit. Then I saw this ad for the U.S. Open and stopped in my tracks. Suddenly I remembered that I had not yet bought my tickets, a must-do even though my budget is severely limited these days.
Advertising has two main goals: either to increase awareness of the brand, or to directly increase sales. For an ad to work, people have to notice it, and they have to remember it. (There is an advertising adage that people have to see something six times before they’ll remember it, hence why you can be bombarded by ads for the same product.) If the goal is to increase sales, people have to be impacted by the ad enough to then complete the purchase.
Rafael Nadal’s ad for the U.S. Open worked on all levels. I noticed it so much that I actually stopped in my tracks and turned around to go back and stare at it. I loved it so much that I took a picture of it. It’s only a matter of time before I click the check-out button on the tournament’s website. Rafa, it’s all your fault.
Years ago, I was asked who my first love was. “New York City,” I said. It was love at first sight for me and New York, from the time I jumped in my first cab and gave the address of the Times Square hotel where Mom and I would be bunking down. That was 1998, and I moved to the city in 2003. While the crowds and costs may wear on me at times, I have never fallen out of love with New York.
These stained glass windows line the above-ground passage at the Franklin Avenue subway stop in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn. Bed-Stuy is a neighborhood that is still a little rough around the edges, where I didn’t expect to see art in the subway. But as I walked through the corridor at dawn on a summer morning, the sun was hitting these stained glass windows, designed by Eric Pryor, just right. And I found beauty in the most unexpected place.
Since returning to New York in October, I have tried to retain the traveling spirit I had while I was on the road. When I can, I carry my camera and attempt to capture the wonder that is New York City. Here are a few of my favorite photos from the last few months. Click on the images to see larger versions.
Worshippers at the Mahayana Temple celebrating the Lunar New Year
I like my Prospect-Lefferts Gardens neighborhood. Really, I do, or at least that’s what I tell myself. PLG is right by Prospect Park, the zoo and the botanic garden. Authentic Jamaican beef patties, Trinidadian roti and oxtail soup are available just outside my door. Aside from those exotic options and the local pizza joint, I lament the lack of restaurants in my area. Do I really have to go all the way to Park Slope—or even worse, the East Village—just to have a nice brunch?
I’d walked by Cafe Enduro at least twice a day, every day, since moving to Brooklyn in October, yet I’d never been in. I wish I’d stopped in sooner, because the moment I walked in, I stopped merely tolerating my neighborhood and fell in love with it.
Cafe Enduro is a cozy little spot, one that makes you feel like you’ve left New York City for the day. Old-school rainbow Christmas lights and decorative wood beams add character to this Mexican joint. I was there at 1:30 p.m. on a Sunday for brunch and got a table right away, a feat that would have been impossible in the Slope or the Village. The prices also reflected that we weren’t in Park Slope anymore. The average price for a brunch entree, not including coffee, was $9.
I tucked into a generous portion of the fluffiest French toast I’ve sampled in ages. The basic serving is $7; adding strawberries and bananas to mine raised the price to $9.50. I don’t know how they managed to make the French toast so soft, fluffy, and almost gooey at the same time, but I didn’t ask questions, I just ate.
Cafe Enduro has a breakfast hash on the menu, not something you see every day. My friend tried the turkey version on a recommendation from our waitress, who said it was “well-spiced.” The hash came topped with an egg and, like my French toast, quickly disappeared.
Next time I’m there for brunch, I’ll try the eggs benedict with chipotle hollandaise. (Eggs benedict are the true measure of a brunch place.) By night Cafe Enduro is a Mexican cantina, so I look forward to sampling their margaritas, enchiladas, and banana fritters with mango cream for dessert.
Note to all my NYC friends: I’ve been coming to your neighborhoods, but now you have a good reason to meet me in my neck of the woods!
Cafe Enduro // 51 Lincoln Road, Brooklyn, 11225 // (718) 282-7097 // Q, B, or S to Prospect Park
I cheered for Botafogo at Maracana Stadium in Rio de Janeiro. I drank aguardiente, Fernet, caiprinhas and kava. I learned how drive on the left side of the road and where to find the Southern Cross in the Southern sky. I got paid to bake cookies and became a Lost Girl. I learned that a visa isn’t a credit card, it’s a major hassle. I got hooked on Vegemite, alfajores and ceviche. I read books by Leo Tolstoy, Jules Verne, Joseph Heller, Isabel Allende and Bill Bryson.
I found paradise. I waddled with penguins, fed kangaroos, held a koala and played with monkeys. I danced the tango, made empanadas from scratch and spoke Spanish with a distinctly Argentine accent. I waded into the Indian Ocean. I found myself in the middle of a major Islamic city at sundown while the faithful broke their Ramadan fast.
I declared my independence and leaned on my wonderful, amazing friends. I started running. I channeled Cameron Diaz for Halloween and filmed a vignette for the WE network. I dialed Florida, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Nevada for Obama and helped win an election. I met a band named “God or Julie,” I was quoted in New York Magazine, and I was sketched on my way home to Brooklyn. I got a column and started a new blog. I turned thirty.
2009 may not be filled with as many exotic destinations, but I hope it’s just as exciting. I hope that when I look back on 2009, my list includes, “I found a job I love.” Maybe I’ll throw some trapeze lessons in for good measure.
Happy new year, everyone. May it be a happy one indeed.
The following post originally appeared on Neighborbee on January 6, 2008.
One of the things that I like about being the Brooklyn Stinger is that it gives me the perfect excuse to explore parts of Brooklyn that I otherwise might not visit. I’ve been spending entirely too much time near my workplace in Park Slope, so when it was time to meet my friend Mark for a drink, I headed over to Clinton Hill. If you have to ask where the hell Clinton Hill is, you’re not the only one. Apparently it’s nestled between Fort Greene (home to Target and the Atlantic Terminal) and Bedford-Stuyvesant (home to the Notorious B.I.G.).
The following post originally appeared on Neighborbee on December 29, 2008.
Happy new year, everybody! As 2008 draws to a close, it’s time to start thinking of New Year’s resolutions for 2009. Burn off those Christmas cookies. Climb out of debt. Get a better job. All those resolutions sound like hard work! Let’s add some fun stuff to the 2009 to-do list.
Ryan over at Single-ish recently asked, “do you make birthday goals?” Birthdays are always a time to reflect, but turning thirty has really made me stop and think about the state of my life. There are a lot of things that I would like to change, so perhaps this is the year when I should set goals for December 10, 2009. Though my birthday was a few weeks ago, it’s never too late to set some goals.
Right now I am working as a waitress, single, and renting a room in a house in Brooklyn. My life isn’t exactly perfect, but I should cut myself some slack. Coming back from a year abroad involves two major stressors: finding a job and a place to live. I am doing all that while simultaneously dealing with the end of a five-year relationship. All things considered, I am doing OK, but this is not the life I want.
After several suffocating desk jobs and a year of traveling, I wasn’t ready to rejoin the corporate world, so I got a job at a restaurant. But now that I have been working evenings for the past six weeks, I see the flaw in my plan. I never see my friends, and I am lonely. This loneliness has been a greater motivation for me to get a different job than money or ambition. I’ve learned that settling for the first job that comes along can be the quickest path to misery, so I am going to be very selective about the employment I take, even in this economy. Ideally I would like to work as a producer for an entertainment or lifestyle website, or pay the bills by proofreading and doing a bit of freelance writing. Universe, this is what I want; now I could use some help.
I recently broke off my engagement, so now I am single by choice. When I got back to New York City after a year of traveling with my fiancé, I went on a few dates simply for the novelty of it. Consciously I knew that I should be single for a while, but subconsciously I was seeking the steady companionship of a long relationship. Eventually I realized that the rest of my life was in disarray, and that the energy I was using on dating needed to be shifted to finding a better job and spending more time with my friends. Someday I hope to find someone who is worth ending my dating hiatus.
I came back from my trip several thousand dollars in credit card debt, hence why I am renting a small room in a house. I miss having an apartment with a living room, but as long as this debt is hanging over my head, I can’t move. In the past I would have used the ostrich method of financial management: to bury my head in the sand. Now I am tracking my expenditures, opening all my financial statements and bills, and actually reading them. Last month I caught two errors that saved me almost $40. Every spare penny is going to pay off my debt.
December 10, 2009 will be a great day. I can see it already. I’ll be gainfully employed in a job that I love, happily single or not, surrounded by great friends, and free of credit card debt. It’s up to me to make it happen.
The following post originally appeared on Neighborbee on December 23, 2008.
Times are tough.The Dow is down, prices are up, our wallets are empty.But we’re not going to let the recession keep us from enjoying the greatest city in the world.So let me present my Chrismukkah gift to you: the Ultimate Wallet-Friendly New York Date.(It also goes over well with out-of-town relatives.)
Ryan over at 