As the setting sun set marked the start of the first of my two alternate realities, I swayed away from food towards some good times. It would not be trip to the USA if I didn’t see a baseball game. Yankee Stadium, Yankees vs Red Socks, in the bleachers (cheap outfield tickets), eating popped corn, hot dogs and drinking a huge can of beer. So darn good. Unfortunately, I found out with a google search post game that Yankee Stadium is rated as one of the worst Major League stadiums for craft beer. Damn. With most teams sourcing 4-30 different local craft beers to be served at their home grounds I definitely missed out there. I would love to watch a game of footy at the MCG drinking a Love Tap, or at Subiaco drinking a Hop Hog or watch a test at the SCG with a Pacific Ale.
Not that drinking macro lager deterred me from having a great time and being a part of some once in a lifetime cultural experiences. Like when the entire NY fan base in the bleachers singled out one Red Socks fan to call him an “arsehole” and the victim was escorted from the ground by police for his safety despite having not provoked the attack. Glad I was not wearing red. After a full 4 hours of stadium food, crowd cheering, jeering and heckling and a new baseball cap the game was over. A loss for the Yankees dimmed the mood, however the subway ride back to Williamsburg certainly provided its own titbits of culture. The city may never sleep but this overwhelmed traveller definitely did.