Here in New York, the Yankees and the Mets have new stadiums. That's okay, I suppose. Here's what I don't get, though. In those new stadiums fans can eat prime rib or sushi or lobster. Lobster? At a ball game? Fans can sit in easy chairs and drink cocktails.
Really.
If a person wants to sit in a recliner, drink cocktails, and eat lobster I'm thinking that person should stay home.
Baseball games aren't about comfort or good food. They're about, well, baseball.
When we go to a game, we don't slide into home plate but we should expect to get just as dirty what with mustard dripping out of the hot dog and the guy behind us spilling his beer.
Come on! Lobster?
I know.
This isn't just a New York thing. The Dodgers and the Angels are just as guilty of selling out to our desires for comfort and fine food.
But wait a second. We're the ones willing to pay for all the comforts of home and the cuisine of a fine restaurant at the ballpark.
So what, exactly, is the national pastime?
Lobster indeed!
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