I still remember the first time I walked into Yankee stadium. I was eight years old, with my father, and walking on air. At eight you idolize your dad, a stage in life before you see your parents’ flaws, before you realize that they’re human just like everyone else. At eight years old your dad is bigger than life; at least for me, mine was. Walking into that stadium was magical. I still remember how green the grass was, the…