"Welcome to the Audi Club"

Over the past few months there have been reviews of the New Stadium by papers, magazines, current and former players,T.V. stations, and countless bloggers. This isnt about the Stadium but about my family.
My Aunt Judy was a season tickt holder since the early 70s. After Pa, I would say that she is the biggest Yankee fan in the family. Her seats were simply amazing. Overlooking the Yankees batter box you were so close you could see individual sweat drops beading down Giambi's neck. I have gotten to go to some games with my cousin Mary or my Aunt, and I will never forget them. When the new Stadium plans came out, the Yankees left her and many other fans in the dark. Her seats were no longer affordable. After over 30 years of loyal patronage, no bargain, no discount, no nothing. Out in the cold, to make room for corporate sponers and company seats. When I hear about the empty seats in first rows of the Stadium, I think serves them right. They boxed out good people, and kharma is a bitch.
My Aunt was diagnosed with brain cancer last fall. I found out shortly after I moved up to Boston and started working at the Middle School. I was floored, and a million thoughts rushed through my head. I never felt so far from home in my life. In the past, I felt that I had always been able to step up to the plate when the family needed me, now it was as if I was useless.
The next few weekends I drove down from Boston to home on a regular basis. I went to the hospital, baby sat, and did whatever I could to try and help. The Yanks were out of the play off race, letting her down again. She was to sick to make it to the last game at the Stadium, and most of my family had no intrest in watching it anyway. (I think the tickets are still in her house)
I am happy to say that she has rebounded, and was strong enough to make it to Opening Day at the New Stadium. I do not know if it was irony or fate, but she has been getting treatment at Sloan Kettering, a charity that we gave money to last year. The people at Sloan are really exceptional, and for me the trip now meant more to me.
As Judy, myslf, my cousin Nicky, and his son Luca, walked into the Great Hall before the game there was a Dinseyesque atmosphere to the place. Sox and Yanks fans milled around gazing at the banners of Yankee greats, or stared at the jumbo tron showing batting practice. Sons and fathers posed under signs, as we headed towards our seats. Seeing my cousin with his son on his shoulders made me so happy. Luca was taking it all in, excited to see Derek Jeter, and more excited about his new shirt. He called the Yankees his team, and I hope it stays that way.
The seats were given to my Aunt by her friend Billy. Billy had reserved seats in the Audi Club for the four of us for 7. Judy said we would go up after the first inning. Walking around the Stadium, I could see the old one out of the corner of my eye. It was covered in a black screen, in preperation for the dismantling, it looked like it was wearing a mourning veil.
My Aunt and I attempted to make it to the Yankee Museum and were greeted by a 90 minute wait. She was willing to stick it out, but I was not. Im not going to make her stand there and miss the first few innings.
After a very quick first inning, we went to the Audi Club. A private elevator and an air conditioned lobby greeted us. Inside the lobby was a statue of George M. Steinbrenner III, sternly guarding the entrance way. I laughed out loud, as I passed the Boss and was greeted by an elevator operator. Judy and I then went to the Audi Club, and were given a warm reception.
The seats were plush, and we found a view with several flatsreens on the wall. Nicky and Luca came up a few minutes after us, and I could tell by Nicky's eyes that he did not want to stick around. Luca could not sit still, and thought that he would not get his seat by the field back, so Nicky went back to the seats. I was staying, I saw that there was sushi.
A whole dinner table filled with sushi. Rows and rows of beatiful looking tuna, slamon, shrimp, and California rolls waiting for me. Now, I did not know that the sushi was not self serve, so I walked over with my plate and started filling my plate as if I had just escaped a famined nation, I was approached by a server who loudly told me, "hey! You have to get served You can't touch the fish." I quickly said I was sorry, and saw that only five people were staring at me shaking their heads. So it could have been worse. By the third time I made it up to the sushi, the server was my buddy and hooked it up.
Judy looked relaxed and seemed to enjoy the a/c and the comfy seat. On her plate was some leftover Yankee potroast sliders and a piece of dessert. She encouraged me to eat more, which I olbliged. (Hey, you got to get your money's worth"
Around the fifth inning (don't judge me) we made it back to our seats. With my mercury level probably at an unhealthy level and my stomach filled with filet mignon I limped along my aunt, perfectly content. Then, I saw the black veil, and I felt so guilty. I was a bleacher guy at the Old Stadium, and here I was fresh from the Audi Club. I felt like Fredo being confronted by Michael, I did something wrong and was caught, the boat ride could not have been to far off.
Back at the seats Judy and I heckled the Sox players. She agreed that Pedroia looked like a smug asshole in his picture on the big screen. She also said that Youk looked like a child molestor. I told her about Varitek and the affaisr he had with the woman from NESN, that was interesting to her. Oh, and three rows in front of me, Stephen Colbert. Yeah, from the Report. He drank Bud Light, has two young sons, and a daughter, probably in high school. He sang God Bless America, wears Gap Jeans, and has an iPhone, with a Star Wars Storm Trooper decal on the back. No, I didn't yell his name but I did make him laugh with my heckling.
We left at the top of the 8th one of the greatest and longest games between the Sox and Yanks. *Hey, Luca is 3. If it was up to me, we would have stayed until the 15th, and he could have napped in the chair. I watched the rest of the game in my recliner at home, thanking God I saved my ticket.
In one of my classes this summer, an assignment was to use clay and create a memorial for anything we wanted. We had about 45 minutes, and were supposed to write on a piece of paper a brief description of what it meant. I am far from artistic, and my abilities range from stick figures to drawing Garfield. I did know what I wanted, and now I wish I took a picture but I will desribe it.
It was a baseball diamond, complete with foul poles. On first base, was what was supposed to be a wooden chair. On second base there was a more modern looking chair. Third base had a bench on it, and home plate was left alone.
One the card was my description:

Yankee Stadium 1923-2008
Three Generations of Yankee Fans

First Base: "The Old Stadium"
My Grandfather was the first Yankee fan in my family. He went there to watch his favorite player Joe DiMaggio play. He is the one who started it all

Second Base: "The Bronx Zoo"
My mom went to the games in the 1970s during the heyday of the "Bronx Zoo". She watched Guidry pitch, and Munson catch. She continued the flame

Third Base "The Bleachers"
I love the bleachers, and spent most of the games that I could afford out there. I took my sisters to their first game in the left field bleachers, and got a package deal for the Last Season.

Yankee Stadium had entertained, intimidated, thrilled, dissapointed, and exhilerated three generations of my family. We all could count on sharing that one common experience of a Yankee game as if it was one of the Sacrements of growing up. For that, I am eternally grateful for but also sorry for. My children and grandchildren will only know about the "House that Ruth Built" from stories and photgraphs. Like love one that has passed away, the experiences at the Stadium become somthing larger then life. The Yankees have been apart of my family since my grandfather was a small child in Little Italy, and will continue to be as his grandchildren grow up and have families of their own.