About a month ago at Yankee Stadium, I heard the strains of Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” from a new perch: the family restroom.
It was the last regular season game of the year, and my two-year-old daughter Riley had made it cheerfully through the eighth inning before a matter-of-fact announcement: “I pooped.” As my wife and I steered Riley back into the concourse, she grinned gleefully. “Theeeeee Yankees wim!”—her interpretation of announcer John Sterling’s iconic victory call.
For those ...
Published on October 25, 2024 15:18