Only a Yankee fan could complain about a victory parade.
It's partially my fault, I know. My train didn't reach Penn Station until 10 o'clock. I walked onto Nassau around 10:25. I followed the crowd until we came to a stop around Isamu Noguchi's Red Cube.
I've always had trouble with modern art- my taste for the aesthetic is apparently underdeveloped. I prefer stories, narratives, or portraits. I look at El Greco or Henri Matisse or Salvador Dali and I begin to invent cause and effect to explain how we got it. I can't really enjoy just what is.
Which is why I was disappointed by the parade. I didn't want to just be there- I wanted to see my heroes and celebrate them, and I went into the city to see them acknowledge being celebrated. And standing 15 people deep along Broadway, I didn't get to see that.
Double decker busses rolled by with Yankee employees standing on top. I could see those guys. But I didn't take the train in to cheer the hot dog man.
Mr. Cashman, I know you read the blog from time to time, so here's my suggestion: next year, put the players on top of the buses and let the little guys ride in the little cars.