Reading into what the Yankees read

Here in New York, the weather has finally turned. After weeks of incessant gloom, the sun has finally introduced itself to us for the first time this summer. There’s a certain smell in the air that lingers with each breeze, and the urge to get ice cream at the drop of a hat becomes a force to be reckoned with once more. In my neck of the woods (Brooklyn), the return of summer also means the return of performatively reading literature in public. Whether classic or contemporary, novella or tome, rest assured you will see it wherever you go in the city. I assume some of these people actually like to read, sure, but it’s much easier to judgmentally roll your eyes while hitting next on the same album you’ve been listening to for the past week.

The Yankees are no different it seems. They were