The highlight of day three was going to Yankee stadium and watching Chien Ming Wang throw a perfect game into the 8th inning. He ended up giving up a homer to some scrub on the Mariners, which spoiled the no-hitter and the shut out. But at least the Yanks won. We sat in the Right field bleachers which has the rowdiest fans in the stadium. They’re called the bleacher creatures and the do a lot of chanting and calling out. It was pretty cool to see such passionate fans. In the first inning they chanted the names of every Yankee player in the field, chanting until each of the Yankees turned and waved. I thought that was pretty cool. I don’t know how long they’ve been doing this, but it seemed like a nice little first inning tradition. They also chanted things like “Box Seats Suck”, and chanted “A$$hole to a rowdy Red Sox fan who was in the bleachers being a loudmouth. I’m not sure what he was doing at a Yankees-Mariners game, but I am sure he showed up pretty friggin drunk. They don’t sell booze in the bleachers, so my guess is that all the season ticket holders get lit up at the taverns across the street before and after the games.
Between the top and the bottom of the 6th inning, they played YMCA, which the bleacher creatures made into their own song called “Why Are You Gay?”. Basically they sang their version while THE ENTIRE right field stands pointed at some guy in a Mariners cap. In the 7th inning there was a near fight in the stands as some angry season ticket holder threatened to beat the crap out of another guy AND his three buddies.
After the no-hitter was broken up and the game ended, we went into Manhattan and I did a little shopping for Paris at 34th Street. I had totally forgotten what it was like being on the busy streets of NY during the weekend. With all sorts of people selling bootlegs stuff on the street, the crusty bums begging, the Asian Tourists, and the take no shit locals generally being loud and to the point about whatever was important to them.
After shopping, we went BACK to the Bronx and watched the De La Hoya- Mayweather fight. It was a decent fight, but nothing to write home about.
Will dropped Shaun and I back off at Penn Station at 1:30AM, and after saying our goodbyes, we went to the NJ Transit track to catch the last train out to Jersey. Unfortunately we were LITERALLY 30 seconds too late. The train was there, but the doors were closed and the conductor refused to reopen them. So basically, being polite and saying goodbye to Will and Stef, cost us the last train. So let that be a lesson to you. Politeness does not pay.
Faced with no other choice, Shaun and I took the PATH to Journal Square (which coincidentally the stop we lived off of when he and I were room mates in Jersey City. There we were approached by an eager cabbie with a middle eastern accent. He offered to take us back to Plainfield for 65 bucks. So we accepted and took the taxi ride back to Shaun’s house. Unfortunately for THE ENTIRE RIDE the cabbie complained about how far away it was and how little we were paying. Personally I had NO SYMPATHY for him. He solicited us an gave us the price… not to mention that he is a friggin cabbie. So I’m not sure he has much cause to complain about how far he is driving. Because driving is pretty much the chief requirement in being a taxi driver. That’s why thy are called taxi DRIVERS.
We got home safely and that as pretty much the end of day three.