A Perfect Day at the Ballpark... Except for One (Big) Thing

For reasons that nobody in my family, including me, really understands, I became a hardcore sports fan when I was 10. Every morning, I would make a beeline for the sports pages. I could recite  all sorts of random statistics at the drop of a hat. My bedroom walls were lined with sports posters. My family thought I was some sort of alien.

If my father had cared about sports, it's possible I would have ended up a Pirates fan, but he didn't, so I chose my teams. And, as would be the case with almost any kid choosing their loyalties from New York, I chose the Knicks and the Yankees, because in those days, they were the ones who were winning. (Yes, I know. I have paid dearly for those Knicks teams of the 90s in recent years.)

Over time, my obsession wained and became more of a hobby. I still pay attention, but if you asked me to name, say, C.C. Sabathia's ERA, I would certainly not be able to summon that information from anywhere in my brain. But because this was the summer of the Bucket List, I made sure to head to Yankees Stadium. My friend Yossi, who is (along with his wife Brooke) among the hardest of the core, was kind enough to accompany to a day game on a BEAUTIFUL day the last week of August.

One of the things I liked best about the Yankees, even as a kid (besides, you know, all of the winning) was how classy they were. Mariana Rivera (hence my t-shirt), Derek Jeter, Jorge Posada, Bernie Williams-- those core guys stayed out of the tabloids, kept their heads down, and got things done. As a mediocre athlete with a strong sense of sportsmanship, I think that appealed to me. So it was fun, before the game, to head with Yossi into Monument Park, where so many Yankees of that era have had their numbers retired. Even if it also made me feel sort of old. But also like I got to watch players I might tell my kids about one day. Hate on the Yankees, as I'm sure many of you do and will, but you have admit that they have history.

The perfect day for some mediocre baseball.

 The weather was perfect. Monument Park was so cool. There were kosher pretzels and ice cream. The recipe for a dream day at the ball park. Except...

The Yankees forgot how to play baseball for the fifth inning. They remembered again later in the game, but by then it was too late. And, as happened earlier this week in the Wild Card game, the Astros just totally shut them down. It was not pretty, the score was not close, and even that score suggested it was closer than it was. Oh well.

But part of being a true fan is picking your head up and carrying on. So I am doing my best to get my nephews (and niece, when she's older) to cheer for the Yanks. Because their father is a Red Sox fan, and that just won't do.

Pinstripes forever! See you at Spring Training.

And because this is a fashion blog, at least theoretically... Yes, I am wearing red pants! It took me a long time to get up the courage, but now I have somehow managed to accumulate two pairs. Go figure. These are the casual ones. I love them.

Also, yes, my Converse have holes in them. I know, they're disgusting. One day I will throw them out. It turns out Converse aren't supposed to last 10 years. But man, do I love them so...

What I'm wearing: LOFT cropped khakis (similar here), Yankees t-shirt (similar here), '47 baseball hat (similar here), Converse sneakers (not made in this color anymore, but similar here)