IN UTERO AT THE STADIUM

Jordan N. Kean

(as told to me by my Mother)

It was one of my very first NYC IRT subway rides! It was October 18, 1977.  The No. 4 train on the East Side was making its way uptown to the 161st Street stop - the Yankee Stadium subway station for Game 6 of the World Series.  Unbeknownst to my parents, I was "baking in the oven".

As it rambled up Lexington Avenue, tired workers got off, and rowdy Yankee fans got on. Rowdy may be a bit subdued. After all, we were playing the much-hated Los Angeles Dodgers, who abandoned our neighboring Brooklyn Borough fans, and the Yanks had the opportunity to "seal the deal" in Game 6.

One of my Dad's co-workers wasn't able to attend the game and was kind (and generous) enough to give his tickets to my Dad.  The morning of the game, my Dad went to get the NYT and bought a whistle for my Mother to take to the game - a candy whistle!  The seats were along the first baseline.  "WE" settled in along with the other 56,405 fans.

I don't recall much of the lead-up to the eighth inning.  It was late, and  I was tired and wanted to go to sleep "inside the oven".  All of a sudden most of the 56,405 fans started to chant "REG-GIE, REG-GIE, REG-GIE".  (Trust me, my mother was one of the loudest!!!)  Then I started being tossed around "inside the oven".  Reggie Jackson homered to put the Yankees ahead 8-3.  MY MOTHER WAS GOING ABSOLUTELY NUTS! along with most of the other 56,405 fans.  It's amazing I stayed glued "to the oven". 

The much-hated, now Evil Empire, Dodgers could not recover from Reggie's homer and the pandemonium that ensued.

The pandemonium continued on the subway ride home.  So much gaiety.  So much revelry.  Manhattan was on fire.  

I grew up a dyed-in-wool New York Yankee fan. 

Little could I have known that one day in my future, I would have a daughter

who would marry a National League MLB player - thereby throwing my fandom to his team - thereby throwing our entire family dynamics into a Friendly Family Feud!

Busch Stadium - St. Louis

Never, ever, that night while baking in my Mother's oven at Yankee Stadium could I have imagined I would one day sit in a stadium watching my adored Son-in-law play major league baseball.  One thing that my Mom did show me what not to do as a MIL is "no meddling" in your child's marriage. Thanks to her, I don't think my SIL will ever "dedicate" this song to me. . .

As for the candy whistle - It was never opened at my first MLB game or thereafter.  To this day it lives in my Mother's Treasure Box.