Dig this nice letter by a Michael Ebner in the Metropolitan Diary today:
As we were threading our way through crowded streets, I realized that we had approached the site of the former Polo Grounds, longtime home of the New York Giants. I regaled the cabby with recollections of attending ball games there — with my grandfather, father, and brother — some 50 years ago.
Suddenly he veered off topic, asking me how much time I had before my flight. Learning that I had more than three hours, he shut off the meter and parked the cab (in a no-parking zone). Together we walked around the housing complex in the vicinity of center field known as Polo Grounds Towers.
He particularly wanted me to see the commemorative sign, on a patch of lawn, noting that this housing complex once was the home of the Giants. Reflecting later on this spontaneous experience, it occurred to me that this was the only time in my 68 years that I had actually stood on the field of play in a major-league ballpark.
That's pretty neat. The cabbie should've taken him up to the Brush staircase on Edgecomb.
[1] Aren't those the ones that have been closed off for a year or two now? I recall reading that in one of the papers; they don't have the funds to renovate them.
My producing partner used to live in the Polo Grounds Houses; I'd tell him how it all used to be a huge baseball-football stadium; he never knew and was not all that interested because he's not a sports fan. Can't really blame the general population for not being excited about it either; at least they have a home. Sadly, it's not much of a place to live, either. I begged him to find another place to live, and finally circumstances forced him to move anyway. A sad epilogue to a place with so much history.