It doesn't get much better than this
J-Log and I took a detour to NYC yesterday on the way back from the Adaptive Path conference in D.C.
Chris, the head of the Games group, pulled some amazing strings and took our whole group out for a day and night on the town as a reward for the work our group had put in over the last quarter or so.
We rolled in on the Acela Express at 11:45pm, headed to the ESPN offices in Midtown to pick up our Yankees tickets, and then headed to the Hudson Hotel on W 58th to check in. The Hudson is a boutique hotel, and is stunning. The streetward side of the hotel gives no indication of what lies inside; it is a sheer concrete face with a centered set of glass double doors. Once you walk inside, you take an escalator that is encased in greenish/yellow tinted glass that gives the ride a mellow feel. The escalator disgorges its occupants into a massive lobby, which is built with beautiful cherry wood floors, brick walls, and has a peaked glass ceiling. The ceiling and walls are covered in ivy which crawls from the floors to the peak in the ceiling. The lighting is intimately dim, and the feel of the place is both hip and comfortable. The rooms are on the small side and are more than adequate. Check the quick six-picture photo gallery.
After checking in, we headed to the Yankees game to benefit from Chris being next in line to reserve Box 324 (otherwise known as George Steinbrenner's crib) after Reggie Jackson cancelled. Our 20-man contingent took in the ballgame from the 200 level, directly behind homeplate, while finishing all the beer on hand and conducting a fantasy football draft to be run this year on League Manager. The Yanks beat the Royals 8-7, with stud closer Mariano Rivera almost blowing the game in the bottom of the ninth. The box itself had pictures of Yankees past and present that covered almost every inch of wall space, including signed photos of DiMaggio and Mantle. There was also one particularly cool photo of Opening Day at Yankee Stadium in 1923, which graced the wall immediately above the gold-plated toilet with accompanying Red Sox toilet paper. The spread consisted of drool-worthy Hebrew National quarter-pound hot dogs, chicken fajitas, fresh fruit, and baked desserts. It was an amazingly good time, and my League Manager collaborator Menglish even came face to face with Yogi Berra on his way to the box.
We finished the night off with dinner at Del Frisco's in Midtown. The appetizers were lobster tails, crab claws, oysters, shrimp, and crab cakes, with everybody getting some cut of steak as the main. Dessert was wicked cheesecake and chocolate cake, and the 20 of us rolled out of Del Frisco's four hours later, stuffed to the gills. The crew dispersed after the meal, and being pooped from the weekend in Montreal and the training in D.C., I bypassed the very cool bar at the Hudson and cruised to bed at a little after midnight.