When one's father is a die-hard fan of a sport and a team, it stands to reason, more often than not, that the child might become a fan too. (Never mind that I'm not a Knicks fan like my own dad; that's mostly because I don't like basketball all that much. My brother does love the Knicks. And I like my father don't have a favorite football team, so that's something.)
And when said father is a die-hard fan of the most storied franchise in American sports, one whose last season in a historic stadium is winding down this very weekend, it might stand to reason that father might feel compelled to show his son a little bit of history, a shared memory, even if the son is, say, 16 weeks old.
So if you find a high-definition television tomorrow, and turn on the Yankee game, and look to the third-base side of home plate, in the back of the lower level under the loge overhang, and you try real hard and squint a bit, you just might see little Nate, in his Yankees onesie and Yankees mocassins, taking in his first baseball game at the last weekend at the old Yankee Stadium, accompanied by his extraordinarily accommodating mother, and, of course, his proud, grinning dad.