Welcome to Bloganuary. It’s this thing that WordPress is doing to encourage bloggers to post something every day by providing a regular prompt. I think that “Bloguary” would not only sound better but makes more sense. Maybe they’re saving that for next month. But if they go with Blogebruary I’m dropping out. Anyway, today’s prompt asks the question: Think back on your most memorable road trip.

I’m sure I’ve shared this story before. Not sure if it was here or on my old blog a long time ago… maybe both.

My most memorable road trip was with my dad. During the summer of 2001, we set out with a couple of friends of mine from Bluefield on a five-day whirlwind adventure. The trip took us up the east coast and each stop took us to a different Major League Baseball game. We took in five games in those five days.

Leaving from our hometown in Virginia, we drove up to our first stop in Baltimore. Walking through the gates at Camden Yards was almost magical. Here I was, 21 years old, attending my first ever Major League ballgame. But I guess that’s what happens when you grow up in a city that really isn’t too close to any professional sports teams. I mean, sure, we’ve got some low level minor league action… but somehow it’s just not the same.

I remember thinking how much smaller the field appeared compared to seeing it on TV. The Orioles played against Tampa that afternoon and won. The deal with this trip was that we had the cheapest seats available at each ballpark. The cheap seats in Baltimore aren’t too shabby. We were just toward the end of the third base line and in the shade. Can’t complain about that.

After the game we drove on to New Jersey, where we planned to stay a few nights with some more mutual Bluefield friends. It was a small apartment in Jersey City, just across the Hudson River from Manhattan. Dad and I slept on the kitchen floor. But hey, we’d both had worse.

The next morning, we had time to do some sightseeing in the city before our next scheduled game. The group left it up to me to decide between seeing the Twin Towers or the Empire State Building. And even though we’d just gotten off the train under the World Trade Center and emerged between those behemoth skyscrapers, I decided it would be more memorable to see Empire State. You know… for the history of the thing.

If I’d known what would happen to those towers just a few months later, I may have made a different decision.

So we made the long trek from the Financial District to Midtown… I think. It’s fuzzy. I remember we walked a lot, though it’s possible we took the subway for the majority of the journey to the Empire State Building. I will say it was a neat experience going up to the observation deck and seeing the surrounding areas. Though, I think, looking back it seemed kind of underwhelming.

And do you know they charged us $18.00 per person to go to the top? I’m sure it’s a lot more than that more than 20 years later. But Sleepless in Seattle sure made it seem like you just waltz right in and step on an elevator. Movies lie. THEY LIE!

At some point we took in Times Square, which was a spectacle, for sure. But then it was time to make our way out to Queens to see the Mets play at Shea Stadium. Seats here weren’t too bad, either. We were behind home plate. We were about three miles above the field… but we were behind home plate. I’m sorry to say I don’t remember who the visiting team was or who won. I’m sure it was a good game nonetheless.

The next day was the one that was exciting for me and Dad. Both of us lifelong Yankees fans, we got to see them play at the original Yankee Stadium. Sadly, these were probably the worst seats of the entire trip. We were way back in right field with no way to see the scoreboard or the jumbotron to check out the replays. And at that vantage point, we were so far from the action that it was hard to know who was winning. But it didn’t matter because I was there with my dad.

Next was a quick drive up to Boston to see the Red Sox face Tampa. We were careful not to wear any of our Yankees attire for this game, certain we would have been sent back home in pieces. Remember, this is before the curse was broken and it had been 83 years since the last time the Sox won a World Series. So the hatred for New York was palpable. You know, even though they’ve had four Series’ wins since then, the hatred for New York is probably still palpable.

Anyway… Tampa lost again. And we were reminded every five minutes or so by a very passionate Bostonian that the Yankees suck. That wasn’t brought on by anything in particular… I just assume it’s something you say if you’re from Boston. Like swearing. So if you’re ever in Boston and want to blend in, just randomly shout, “Yankees effin’ suck!” You don’t even need the accent and you’ll be treated like you grew up in Southie.

On the way back home, we stopped off in Philadelphia to catch a Phillies game at Veterans Stadium. We were all pretty exhausted by this point. Therefore, to say this game wasn’t memorable would be an understatement. But I do have the privilege of saying that I saw professional baseball games played in three stadiums that no longer exist. Well… I think old Yankees Stadium is still there. But isn’t it a museum? I don’t know… I haven’t been back to New York since then.

Overall it was a great trip. Probably the last real vacation before life forced me to grow up. Because we came home to the real world. 9/11 and my parents’ divorce were looming in the not so distant future. But I’ll always look back on that road trip with Dad as one of the best things I ever did.