Enemy Perspective

Last week, the Yankees broke ground on a new Yankee Stadium, which they'll inhabit in 2009, and will also call, cleverly, "Yankee Stadium." The current Yankee Stadium was designed to give the Yanks home-field advantage in the truest sense of the term: the right field fence sits a measly 295 feet from home plate, perfect for a lefty slugger named Ruth. It was the House Built for Ruth, and thanks in part to its design, became the House that Ruth Built. Babe christened the park right away, knocking a three-run homer to beat the Sox in the first game at what I will soon find myself calling the “Old Stadium.”

And then there’s Fenway. The odd shape, a different short porch wrapping around Pesky’s Pole. The Green Monster looming in left, where a Yank named Bucky earned his middle name. And another pole, this one named after a guy named Pudge, who waved his ball fair on an October night in 1975 in one of the most memorable scenes in baseball history – only to taste defeat just hours later.

But dimensions and facts aren’t the only factors in home-field advantage. You cannot forget the ghosts.

In both of these stadiums, ghosts abound. Fenway has a single red seat in a sea of dark blues out in deep right field, where Teddy Ballgame planted a monster home run, and now likely sits, waiting for judgment day. And the “Luckiest Man on the Face of the Earth” is said to haunt Monument Park at Yankee Stadium.

You can move the equipment, you can move the monuments, you can move the team. But how do you move the ghosts? Does the spirit world use GPS? (Ghost Positioning System?)

I’ve been to many games at Fenway, where they’ve decided to preserve tradition and have made a commitment to improving the park and extending its longevity. I also make quite a few trips each year to the Bronx to catch my Bombers at the Stadium, which is on its way out. I can’t help feel that this situation is a microcosm for the mentality of these two franchises: One embracing their history while preparing for the future, and another who has lost touch with their past, attempting to solve all problems with an endless supply of cash. (Though the “New Regime” as I call Cash and Joe, is attempting to restore some sense.)

I don’t know how I feel, knowing that I’ve only four years left to walk the narrow concourses that three generations of Pinstripe fans have walked.

I’m an emotional guy, but I’m a realist. The Old must give way to the New, just as Death is a Natural Part of Life. I’ve lost quite a few older relatives, and I’ve never shed a tear, because I know it was time for them to go, and no one can stop the cycle. The Old must give way to the New.

"Things change, times change," Bernie Williams said last year after the new park was announced. "I guess it was time for a change." I didn’t hear him say it, but from his word choice, you can sense a regret, sadness.

I won’t shed a tear for Yankee Stadium, however sad I am to see it go. Things change.

But while we still have it around, let’s do a head to head on two incredible Baseball Cathedrals.

Design:

The Green Monster, Death Valley in center, the .406 club, seats that face in the wrong direction, the Right Field Roof Deck, being able to see into the bullpen from just about anywhere, the way the right field fence boosts Johnny Damon’s ego… versus a very well-thought-out horseshoe design, the Short Porch, three even tiers, the white fencing high in center that gives the park its signature look. The only thing that makes this close is Monument Park. There's a lot to be said for originality. The Nod goes to: Fenway.

Atmosphere:

The Stadium packs over 56,000 people compared to Fenway’s measly 34,000. Both have their ghosts, and both have that aura a baseball stadium should have—you don’t know what it is, but when you walk in and see those lights and that grass and all those seats, it just hits you. Fenway feels more intimate—like you’re a part of something special. But The Stadium, with the history of success of the Franchise, feels like hallowed ground. The Nod goes to: Both

Location:

As the snow flies\On a cold and gray [New York] mornin'\A poor little baby child is born\In the ghetto\(In the ghetto)\And his mama cries\'Cause if there's one thing\That she don't need\It's another hungry mouth to feed\In the ghetto\(In the ghetto)…The Nod goes to: Fenway.

Seats/Views:

This one is not even close. Apparently, the Ho-Ho wasn’t around in 1912, because the seats in Fenway do not accommodate our modern-day American ass-fat; the seats in right field face… left field; Unless you’re a professionally trained sniper, you can’t see the action from the top of bleachers in Fenway; Poles make for obstructed views. I could go on. But I don’t need to. Yankee Stadium, not a bad seat in the house. You can see everything from everywhere, and no, those nosebleed seats aren’t as bad as you might think. The Nod goes to: The Stadium.

Prices:

A New York Stadium has New York prices: it’s $7.50 for a 16 ounce beer, compared to Fenway’s $4.50 for a 12. Every item—and I mean every item—in The Stadium costs more than it does at Fenway. But here’s the kicker: The cheapest ticket at Fenway? Around $23. (And those get bought up faster than cocaine at Daryl Strawberry’s house.) The cheapest ticket at Yankee Stadium? $5. Does that make up for the obscene prices at The Stadium? No, because you don’t usually sit in those seats, and very few people reading this probably have a family of four. So the Nod goes to: Fenway.

Food/Drink:

Nothing beats a Fenway Frank, but THEY SERVE BEER IN THE STANDS AT YANKEE STADIUM. I snapped my neck giving this Nod to: The Stadium

Venue Fans:

I’ve never understood how a Franchise with a history of crushing disappointment could have so many bandwagon fans, even after one World Series win. But really, that just speaks to the power of baseball in Boston. To keep men happy, girls in Boston don't fake orgasms—they fake interest in the Sox. With the exception of every soccer venue in any country but this one, I doubt there’s any sports venue that lives and dies with each loss. The Nod goes to: Fenway

Traditions:

Fenway has Sweet Caroline, Dirty Water, Tessie. Yankee Stadium has Ed Alston hammering away on an old Hammond Organ, and two versions of New York, New York depending on a win or a loss. Fenway has Pesky’s Pole and the Green Monster. Yankee Stadium has Monument Park. Yankee Stadium has the role call by the bleacher creatures. The most popular Red Sox fan chant? “Yankees Suck”—even when they aren’t playing the Yankees. A Very Slight Nod goes to: The Stadium

Who’s the big winner here? By a score of 5 to 4, Fenway gets the Nod. But either Ballpark is a fitting tribute to our favorite game. With Fenway being lovingly redeveloped, and a new Stadium being built as we speak, I’ll have to write this column again in four years. Maybe I’ll be getting paid for it by then.