Going “down to the city” to see the New York Yankees has always been a big deal in the Bunt house. I’ve been a Yankee fan since 1965- listening to games out on Long Island on a warm summer evening on Grandpa’s transistor radio- I worked quite hard to bias my three daughters toward the New York Baseball nine during their formative years and managed to bat .333, as Jackie is an ardent fan.

Jackie told me she was taking me to the new stadium in the Bronx this year and bought a pair of tickets for this past Saturday. We drove a couple of hours to the train station bright and early and then headed south, arriving at the ballpark just in time for the game. We took a few cell phone snapshots to share our afternoon…

The idea of leaving North Adams, Massachusetts at 7:45 am, arriving in the Bronx for an afternoon game, and then getting back to my kitchen door by 8:30 that night with minimum hassle is very attractive to me.

It also makes me feel like a dazzling urbanite: taking a train and managing to reach my destination with a minimum of snags – then getting back with a minimum of panic. Drive to the train, then chug on into the House that Jeter Built (Sorry Babe, but your palace was knocked down after 2008). Sure. No problem. Do it all the time. As Yanks radio announcer John Sterling would say, “It is high! It is far! It-Is-Gone! Robbie Cano! Don’t cha know?”