One of the more unlikely discoveries I’ve made since living in New York is that I love baseball. Really, properly love it. Of course it’s just glorious rounders souped up a bit, so there’s no reason why I wouldn’t. It helps that lovely Jill is to American team sports as I am to fashion designers, so she has explained the game slowly to me in words of one syllable, as we’ve sat in the Yankees stadium in the Bronx. (Although I remain steadfastly unconvinced of the sex appeal of Mr Jeter.)
(And now I hear, courtesy of the DKNY publicist, that Jill & I now represent the perfect new model Yankees fusion: fashion & sport. New York’s iconic fashion label is to sponsor New York’s iconic ball team, through a permanent Outfield Bullpen sign, located in right centerfield, featuring the New York City skyline, and a DKNY Lounge, located along the third baseline.)
I’ve been quite spoilt by the games (one musn’t call them matches) I’ve been taken to by my New York friends. JG took me to the old Shea stadium to see the Mets vs the Dodgers, & bought me a cap to top off my outfit two summers ago:
I am, as Derek Blasberg would say, so CLASSY
And, rather thrillingly, one of S’s blue chip hedge fund clients invited us to join him in his debenture seats in the second row, right next to the Yankees dugout. At $450 a pop (old stadium) this was my first, and was probably my last, chance to get close enough to the action to be able to prove my point that Yankees players aren’t that hot.
S & I made a right pair: like a rainbow had thrown up in our row. He was wearing a super bright yellow cashmere sweater with the avowed intention of sticking out like a sore thumb so he cld be spotted on the telly, & I had come straight from work in a multi-coloured frock & four inch wedges. (It was amusing walking down the rows to the very, very front through a sea of grey & navy blue.)
The clients were ace – no needing to be on best behaviour. Knocking fifty, super switched on, hilarious and full of compliments, they told stories of Wall Street in the 80s to make your hair stand on end.
Needless to say, the constant grazing and drinking at baseball games is extremely attactive to me.
We drank beer and ate nachos, and I got a spare ball thrown to me by a Yankee – and covered myself in shame at work the next day when I failed to identify which one had actually thrown it at me.