Wrecking Ball through the Soul of America

Full disclosure up front – I am a Mets fan. This fact should not discount the validity of my post, but rather strengthen it.

The imminent demise of Yankee Stadium is more than just a tragedy for the Yankees, more than a tragedy for baseball, more than a tragedy for New York City. It is an American tragedy and together we should be up in arms that this icon of American History is to be destroyed on our watch.

As Americans, why do we continue to allow the wrecking balls to diminish our shared soul? Is it simply a sacrifice to the true American God – the Almighty Dollar?

One of the stated reasons for the new stadium, as with all new stadium constructions, is for the expansion of luxury boxes. The irony is that these boxes will be filled with the same Fat Cats that will shell outlandish sums of money to snap up trinkets of nostalgia from the corpse of Yankee Stadium. ‘Look at me,’ they will be saying in effect, ‘I killed the American Soul and here is the evidence to prove it.’

As stated above, I am a Mets fan. Yet anytime I have entertained a visitor to New York, especially ones from abroad, I would not take them to the Statue of Liberty (or Shea). I would take them to Yankee Stadium. Everyone reading this post knows why. It is America. It is part of our DNA. It is living history that has borne first-hand witness to America becoming America in the 20th Century. It represents winning at all costs. It represents a de facto Town Hall where people of every background, age, gender and economic circumstance could find common ground for several hours.

In the litany of events and trends that demonstrate that we are losing our way as Americans, surely the end of Yankee Stadium must be included.

Why there isn’t more hue and cry from the Yankee faithful, I can’t guess. Yankee Stadium is practically the 10th player in the lineup. I would understand the new stadium if it was crumbling and posed a danger to its inhabitants. To date, the only real danger it presents is to the record of visiting teams.

Why give that up? To generate more revenue to pay the likes of A-Rod? If the rich history of the Yankees has shown us anything is that the greatest performances have come those that are there for the aura and Yankee Stadium is the repository of that aura.

As a supporter of the rival team in town, there is part of me happy to see the Yankees surrendering their powerful 10th player and leveling the proverbial and literal playing field. Yet at a more important level – being an American – I am deeply saddened that my generation is allowing this sacrilege to come to pass.

As an American and a dreamer, I wish at this late stage some entity would ‘step up to the plate’ and find a way to save Yankee Stadium. As preposterous and physically impossible as it sounds, perhaps as much of the stadium as feasibly possible should be transplanted elsewhere. They moved London Bridge to the middle of the Arizona desert, why not Yankee Stadium (somewhere agreeable, i.e. not anywhere near Boston). I realize it wouldn’t be the same as it was rooted in the Bronx, but it would better than scattered all over eBay. It could become the permanent home of the All-Star game, college baseball World Series, old-timer events. I know that with the new stadium the House that Ruth built must go. I know that it is easier and more profitable to sell it bit by bit. However, this is a complete piece of American History we will never get back.

Ever.

We need to remind the world, and more importantly to ourselves that we are a nation of Dreamers and Doers. Not a nation of demolishers.

Save Yankee Stadium.

Does it Matter?

At thirty-seven and one-half years of age, I am now squarely in the chronological terrain of the 'mid-life crisis'. For those most afflicted by this syndrome, they quit their jobs, leave their spouse and/or have a tendency to jump out of perfectly good airplanes in an attempt to feel alive.

I have none of those desires. I simply want to know 'does it matter?' If one reflects on my life and what I've done, you could either conclude that I have done a great deal or I have done zilch. It's all a function of your perspective and an application of comparison to the lives of others.

I recently returned from China and I'm left perplexed wondering about the example of Mao Zedong, with respect to the idea of 'does it matter?' Here is an individual that changed the course of history for not only billions of Chinese but for the world as a whole. (Paradoxically, he is also an individual who managed to convince a population of hundreds of millions to stop being individuals.) Yet as of 2008, a mere twenty-odd years since his death his vision for China and communism is becoming obselete at broadband speeds.

Does it matter?

Does anything I do actually matter? If I had cured cancer, written the Great American Novel or founded an innovative company that changed the world and employed thousands would it actually matter? I, like Mao, will be dead one day and humanity will ultimately implode on itself and the universe will continue with barely a blink of notice.

So what does anything matter?

To me, at this reflective point in my life, the only thing that matters is to understand completely who I am. And somehow that does matter.

Last year, I was fortunate enough to spend a few days at St. Catherine's Monastery at the base of Mt. Sinai. It was here that Moses asked God for his identity and God replied 'I am that I am' or 'I shall-be that I shall-be'. I found my interpretation of this enduring philosophical puzzle by following the example of the Little Prince and repeating it aloud to myself.

'I am that I am'

What I have discovered is what matters is me. If we take the common premise that man was created in the image of God and 'he is that he is', then it follows that the understanding of the Divine and the understanding of our purpose is simply the complete understanding of Self.

And that is the only thing that matters.