IN WHICH We Make our way Back to the Stadium, Take a Circuitous Route, Confuse Everyday New Yorkers, Enter the Stadium, One of Us is Searched by Security Guards While the Other Walks In without so much as a Look, I Make a New Friend, AND - in the Meantime - I Tell You that I was the 100th Voter in the Town of Hounsfield Today, But - Perhaps Surprisingly - Won Nothing.

We got back on the subway at Chambers and realized immediately that the uptown subway was far more crowded than the downtown.  We still had plenty of time to get back to Yankee Stadium, but it did seem like a whole ton of people were going there with us.  One thing I forgot to mention earlier - as we were going to the Yankee Stadium subway stop, we walked through what appeared to be a full Army platoon, decked out in camoflauge, milling around outside.  After we passed them, Mike turned to me and said, "Wow, that was intimidating."  And it certainly was.

Luckily, the map seat was available on our car, and I took it and plotted our course.  As we went from stop to stop, we picked up more and more people, until pretty much every seat was taken.  On the bench next to Mike was an older gentleman in a large coat.  Next to me (across from Mike) were two college girls, who had not spared the makeup, travelling with a man I suspect was the father of one.  One of them was living in the past, wearing jeans that had been with her since at least tenth grade, if not junior high.  She was now, to be kind, a bit more Reubenesque than the jeans could handle.  All three were wearing Yankee paraphernalia, as were most on the subway, and when we got off to switch trains, we were not surprised to see almost everyone else get off too.

After a few minutes, a train came up, and Mike and I got on.  When we sat down and looked around, we were surprised at how few people were in the car.  I looked out the window and saw why - all our friends (in theory...no one speaks on a subway car) from the last train were still out there.  The blond girl previously on my left was looking at us curiously, and asking the man something.  She pointed at us, frowning.  "Those idiots got on the wrong train," she no doubt thought, "and that guy looks like Tom Cruise."

Mental compliment notwithstanding, Mike was a little worried.

I consulted the map as the train started off, and it turned out (I think) that we had just taken the 5 instead of the 3, or maybe it was the other way around, and that either way, we could get off at the next stop before our train went off in the wrong direction.  So we did, and waited another three minutes.  "Hey, wouldn't it be cool if those same people on the platform were on our train?," one of us said.  Ha!  We'd show them!  They'd be shocked - they'd think we took a shortcut!

The train pulled up (the right one - we checked) and it was packed.  There were no seats, and it started before I grabbed a rail, sending me falling onto Mike for a second.  As I stood up again, I noticed a familiarly frightening pair of jeans in front of me.  There they were - the guy and the two girls - two subway poles in front of us.  They never met our eyes, but we considered it a moral victory.

When entering the stadium, I gave the man my ticket and walked right through without a second look.  It was literally tougher to sneak into the Frontier League Cheerleading Championships last Tuesday (I WAS NOT THERE ON PURPOSE AND I DID NOT STAY) than it was for me to get into Yankee Stadium.  Mike, on the other hand, had his bag searched, his identity questioned, his metal detected, and his character impugned, before he was gruffly told he could go on.  I felt nervous standing there waiting for him, thinking I might be considered guilty by association, and I moved a safe distance away in case a similarly friendly guard noticed me.  In retrospect, maybe it was the Tom Cruise angle that got the burly black male guard's attention.

Our seats, as promised, were in the very top row of the stadium.  The very top.  I turned around and I could literally see our car through the binoculars.  But we could see very well, as we were right over the plate on the third-base side.  After about fifteen minutes, the game was about to start and the two seats on my left were still empty.  What a great stroke of luck, I thought!  Then I saw them.  A young boy and his father, ascending the staircase.  Slowly.  Because the man was very, very large.  I do not know a man as large as this one was.  I held my breath as they kept ascending.  When they got to our row, I knew there was no hope.  This man would be sitting next to me.  All game long, I would have no room.  Of course it had to be this way.

But no!  His son pushed ahead of him and took the seat immediately to my left!  I had been spared!  I breathed a sigh of relief!  I had started looking down on the field with the binoculars when I felt movement to my left.  The boy was going to the bathroom.  The man was taking his seat.  The armrest had disappeared.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

Round EIGHT

NHS Speech

"My View" Editorial

The October Surprise
|  Round 1 |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |
|  11  |  12  |  Final Bell  |

Journey to Jersey II
|  Intro  |  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |  11  |
|  12  |  13  |  14  |  15  |

Journey to Jersey I
|  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |   6  |  7  |  8  |
|  9  |  10  |  11  |  12  |  13  |  14  |
|  15  |  16  |  17  |  18  |  19  |  20  |

An Epic Saga
|  Act  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |
|   6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |  11  |
|  12  |  13  |  14  |  15  |  16  |

Christian Rock Email

Freshman Room Draw
|  Part One  |  Two  |
|  Three  |  Four  |  Five  |