Don’t believe your lyin’ eyes. And your ears could be pulling your leg, too.
If this is such a sophisticated sports city, why is so much, from the nonsensical to the impossible, presented to us as significant and/or true?
New Yankee Stadium remains a shrine to unmitigated, on-your-screen/in-your-face greed. And on a 42-degree night, even for a game against the Mets, hideously priced tickets, parking, concessions and everything else in the shopping cart don’t get along well with baseball.
“Guests” — what the Yankees now call paying fans — have become a diminished, repetitive contradiction.
Friday on YES, the usual thousands of empty seats, 10-12 rows deep, behind the plate and up the baselines, were in steady view.