By the end of
1975 the city had quietly dropped a program to clean up the area around the
Stadium, specifically to buy and raze several dilapidated buildings. The reason
cited was the "fiscal crisis." The program would have cost about $2
million. Instead, some of that money was allocated to improve the subway
station adjoining the Stadium. About $300,000 more of it was used to buy the
Yankees such things as a tarpaulin, a carpet for their general offices and
private toilets for the VIP boxes.
Macombs Dam Park
seems never to have been seriously included in any official master plan,
although Abrams claims to have fought for it in vain. Yankee Architect Green,
who says he helped Jackson draw up a program for the park's rehabilitation,
calls Jackson a "troublemaker," while describing Macombs Dam Park as a
"strolling space for Stadium patrons" in his own press release.
"This park
could make this neighborhood safe and give a sense of community spirit,"
said Jackson recently as he stood in the mud of it. "It could offer
recreation to 700,000 people a year and do it without costing the city a penny.
It could be a model for the whole country, the kind of thing that could turn
the Bronx, maybe New York, around, but all the big boys think about are those
rich suburbanites. Who do they think the rest of us are, Apaches with Magic
Markers?"
At numerous
public hearings, in letters to politicians, Yankee executives and the media and
by a 10-mile jog to City Hall, Jackson and his committee have tried to sell a
$2.5 million plan to turn Macombs Dam Park into the city's only 24-hour,
competition-class track-and-field facility.
The $2.5 million,
perhaps raised from federal or private sources, would buy an eight-lane
all-weather track, artificial turf for football, floodlights and a
double-decked, 5,000-capacity grandstand with locker rooms, offices and meeting
halls. Competitive events, even a Park'n'Jog for commuters, would make it a
money-earning facility as well as a kind of plaza for the neighborhood, and one
easily accessible to the rest of the city.
"The Stadium
isn't going to do anything for me," says a store owner on 161st Street,
Yankeeland's northern boundary. "That's an insulated place over there,
people just drive in and out. But the park, that could bring life back to the
area. People could walk around at night again. There'd be something for
youngsters to do, a place for old folks to kibitz."
That is the crux
of the problem exemplified by rebuilt Yankee Stadium, with its "historical
aura" and its huge cost overruns paid for out of public funds. While
municipal officials and businessmen argue that keeping their city "major
league" is essential to its well-being, perhaps even to its survival, the
nonfans among the youngsters, old folks and those in between who live in the
city have inadequate facilities. The savings from less elaborate paving, not to
mention a multipurpose park housing all of New York's big-league teams, might
have built a monument to sports far greater than Yankee Stadium will ever
be.