Beer, Baseball and the Bronx
The view from the left field bleachers of Target Field during game one of the last regular season series between the Yankees and Twins on July 22. || Photo credit to Joe Hiti
The opinions reflected in this OpEd are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of staff, faculty and students of The King's College.
Target Field's left field bleachers feel like my second home. Having been to many Minnesota Twins home games, left field is by far the best way to watch a game. It was on July 22 that the Twins and Yankees met for their last series of the regular season in Minnesota. It was on October 4 that they met for the first time in the 2019 ALDS. For both, I was sitting in left field. But only one left me covered in beer.
I arrived at Yankee Stadium with my roommate, who is also from Minnesota. Both of us were ready for a good game and to have insults and beer hurled at us the entire night. The insults made for an interesting game. The beer only made it sticky.
From the moment we stepped foot onto the Bronx-bound 4 train, I could feel the eyes looking at us. Getting off the train, there was a sea of white and dark blue jerseys and hats.
Walking into the stadium, an NYPD officer gave me a look which I interpreted to mean “good luck.”
I was not the most unnoticeable person in the stadium. I am six-feet, three inches tall and wearing a creme Twins jersey with my bright red “TC” hat. I might as well have painted a target on the back of my head. The number of disapproving looks, scoffs and rolling eyes that we received let me know that I was behind enemy lines. But it was right where I wanted to be.
“Hey Tauchman you’re not that good … Sorry,” I yelled at the Yankees left fielder during the Minnesota homestand. I was trying to be mean to the guy — but in a nice way. I don’t believe in “Minnesota nice” but I do believe in being nice. Some of the fans at Yankee Stadium we encountered did not.
“F--- you,” the “Bleacher Creature” group yelled as they walked by us on our way to Monuments Park. I received multiple middle fingers, crotch grabs and a plethora of other gestures that would never be seen at Target Field.
At the game in Minnesota, my girlfriend sat to my left in her Yankee shirt and hat, something she wore much to my dismay. But the fans did not yell at her. No one swore or threw beer. In fact, nobody did that to any of the Yankee fans sitting in our section. Everyone exchanged pleasantries or discussed the ballpark and how it compares to others they have been to. Not a curse was thrown and certainly no drinks were “spilled.”
Joe Hiti decked out in twins gear before game one of the ALDS in Yankee Stadium on Oct. 4. || Photo credit to Sam Johnson
“Did you take a moose here?” one of the gentlemen behind us asked multiple times at Yankee Stadium. “Did you rent it or just borrow someones?”
One fan behind us kept sniffing obnoxiously loud until he finally let out the dig, “Do you guys smell maple syrup coming off these guys?”
We fired back deciding to make fun of the fact that Giancarlo Stanton, the Yankees outfielder, was originally named Mike before he changed his name to Giancarlo.
Another tactic they took was naming old Twins players to get at the fact that we had not been in an ALDS series for almost a decade: “Is that Joe Mauer at the plate? Who do they have warming up? Joe Nathan? Look it’s Justin Morneau.”
I decided to ask how Eli Manning, the aging New York Giants quarterback, was doing.
Sometime during the sixth or seventh inning, my brother FaceTimed me. This lead to more bashing from the folks behind us. “He’s facetiming back to MINNY-SO-TAH,” claiming that they must not have anything else going on in the great North.
We stood for most of the seventh inning as the Yankees loading the bases with runners. When a DJ LeMahieu double to left scored three runs it extended the Yankee lead to six. I could feel the stadium jumping beneath my feet, like it was getting ready to blast off into space and what I can only describe as the loudest noise I have ever heard in my life as 50,000 plus Yankee fans started screaming and cheering.
One of the gentlemen to our left (who really liked to express himself by yelling the names of players batting for the Yankees directly in our ears) became more and more expressive as he became more and more drunk. At one point he decided that yelling “MVP” and kicking the backs of our chairs with each letter for 10 minutes was a good idea. I was worried he would hurt his foot.
Nearing the eighth inning, it was not looking good for the Twins. We were down six and I was worried my ear drums may have ruptured.
As the game ended and every joke about our accents or ability to deal with the cold had been made, the group of guys got up and shook our hands wishing us the best of luck and telling us to get home safe. The same way I did to the Yankee fans at Target Field. Because in the end it’s all about being a good sport and knowing baseball is just a game.
I was told a number of things when I moved to New York: The city is gonna eat you alive, people are so mean in New York, don’t trust anyone, people won’t help you. In many ways this game taught me that stuff is true. But in many ways, it taught me the opposite. I didn’t feel truly threatened at any point. Everyone made jokes at our expense, but they did it with a smile. They even took the jokes we fired back at them.
“I am six-feet, three inches tall and wearing a creme Twins jersey with my bright red “TC” hat. I might as well have painted a target on the back of my head.”
This city is like nothing I have ever experienced before. Growing up in the suburbs of Minnesota, I was raised with a “help your neighbor” mentality. Coming here, everyone said I wouldn’t experience that. But as I helped the drunk Yankee fan at the end of the game in front of me climb the seats to get into my row, he was more grateful than anyone else I have ever met.
Maybe it was his blood alcohol content level, but I think it was something else. The City of New York gets a bad rap. There might have been a lot of people who did not shake our hands at the end of the night, but some did. This game helped show me that I can do my part by being one of those people.
Don’t get me wrong, I still don’t like the Yankees. But as I was sitting there, sad and covered in beer, I thought about how lucky I am to have experienced this. What was the chance of me deciding to study in New York while the Twins faced the Yankees in the playoffs?
This game ended up being about a lot more than just baseball. I was being tested — to see if I could stand “the real New York.” As an outsider in the Yankees field, I caught a glimpse of whether or not I could make it in this city and contribute to the culture. So, I will just say it like this:
The Yankees suck! I’m just kidding. Sorry.