A-Rod hits his 400th, Joe Torre is ejected and some women flirt with my son June 8th

Anyone who knows me knows I love the Yankees. So when interleague play brought them to Milwaukee this week, it was a given that I’d be there to cheer them on.

I decided to bring my three-month old son along too. After all, what better way to introduce a son to the great game of baseball than to show him what 26 world championships looks like?

[Yes, I know the Yanks are sputtering along this year. Maybe they will watch the playoffs on TV, but I’d watch my mouth if I were a Yankee-hater. I think the best is yet to come]

[personal note #1: Sure it was a little conflicting for the kid, rooting against the home team while wearing a Brewers outfit and a Yankees bib. Life is one big confusing mess; its best he learn that lesson young]

I made it a multi-generational affair. Just my me, my father, and Parker. Testosterone, hear us roar.

Except that once we learned I’d have to buy a ticket for Parker if I brought his car seat along, I took it back to the car and carried him in a Snuggly.

It’s hard to project manliness with a baby strapped to your belly.

The little guy did me proud though. He was very alert and curious about the sights and sounds around him, much more than I remember his sister being at her first game.

It was not, I admit, the most family friendly atmosphere. Success breeds jealousy, especially in a town that hasn’t seen a winning season in over a decade. While the Yankees were well represented, the Brewers faithful were not only vocal but bloodthirsty.

The best (PG)chant the crowd came up with? "Yankee fans suck, you only like them 'cuz they're good."

Uh, yeah.

‘Tis a shame for them then that the Yanks piled on 16 hits and 12 runs before it was over.

[personal note: while I am a rabid Yankees fan, I’m also a lifelong Brewers fan. Normally I wouldn’t conceive of betraying the home team, but I’m still reeling from the Brewers disheartening collapse of, oh, 1994 to the present]

With a two minute exception, Parker was the ideal child.

Quiet, alert, and cute, earning no less than fawning compliments from three hot women in the crowd.

Sadly, my son is already doing better with the ladies then his old man ever did.

You can’t blame him for paying attention. Not only was it a riotous atmosphere, history was made.

Along with home runs by Carlos Lee and Derek Jeter (accompanied by chants of ’Jeter has no peter’), and the unusual sight of having Tino Martinez ejected while playing in the field (leading to Joe Torre joining him moments later), there was one big milestone that was reached.

I’d mentioned to my Dad on the way to the game that Alex Rodriguez had 398 home runs, putting him on the cusp of history.

“Watch him hit two today,” I said.

Add psychic to my resume.

In both the first and the eighth innings A-Rod took the Brewers deep, becoming only the 39th man to ever rack up 400 home runs.

Even the Yankee haters gave him an ovation.

So the Yankees won. My Dad was disappointed in the lopsided score, a Yankee fan came up and shook my hand after the game, we got a free hot dog with our tickets, and waited out the crowd in the parking lot while soaking up a gentle summer breeze.

Not a bad time at all. We even had a chance to see the start of a drunken fight in the parking lot.

Good times, good times.

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