SECTION: SPORTS; Pg. 123

LENGTH: 734 words

HEADLINE: IN TIME OF TRAGEDY, YANKEE FANS TEAM UP

BYLINE: BY FILIP BONDY

BODY:
Just because you are a Bleacher Creature doesn't mean you have immunity from the frazzled world outside Section 39, a relative bastion of sanity. So it was that Donald Simpson, lifelong Yankee fan from Harlem and a core Creature, made his way Tuesday morning to what would become a most ironic session at his workplace with Verizon on the 12th floor of 2 World Trade Center.

It was a safety meeting, called for 8 o'clock. Big Don, employed in special services, got out of the building about 8:30, and was beeped by his dispatch department. He fortunately chose to walk across the street, because he didn't want to use a non-union phone that was closer. Suddenly, debris was falling from Tower 1. He tried to call his co-workers, warn some of them on higher floors to get out, but couldn't get to a phone. And then, soon, another plane came from behind, from the west, to hit Tower 2.

"All of a sudden, boom, there was a bright light that threw everybody down," Big Don said. "Everything went white. People were running up my back. I thought it was the end."

It wasn't, for Simpson. But the Bleacher Creatures were worried, about Big Don and others. The most acrimonious band of irascible fans, maybe anywhere, quickly cobbled together a communications support network to monitor and help each other during the worst of times.

"Between our message board and instant messages, we listed the missing and one by one got word that people were safe," said Bald Vinny, who saw the second plane hit while he was commuting on a No. 7 train from Queens. "It's amazing that a group like ours, with all the fighting and cliques we have, that we all came together in time of need."

Makeshift headquarters were established, at Paul Kaplan's apartment, at Brian's place and inside Jeremy's Ale House at South Street Seaport. Through cell phones, E-mail and solid detective work, Creatures worked through the next 24 hours until virtually every one of their own had been contacted.

"One by one, all the names of the Bleacher Creatures came into question," said Jessica Herold, who prefers the name Nymphie. "Mr. Mango was off from work. Steve Krauss normally takes the Staten Island Ferry to work, which would have put him in danger, but he slept at Brian's the night before.

"We stayed in contact with Bald Vinny and Uptown Mike through IM (instant messaging). Tony Capone, Grover, Walkman, MSB and Kwik were reached by phone. No one heard from Anthony Baloo. I lit a candle and said a prayer for my friends. Finally, Baloo checked in early in the evening."

Still, there were a few Creatures missing in action. Sheriff Tom Brown, heart and soul of Section 39, was supposed to be at work inside the World Trade Center, along with another fan, Diggity Dan. There was Simpson.

Big Don managed to limp to Jeremy's, where he was treated to a couple of drinks to soothe his nerves. Then, still covered with soot, he checked into a hospital for his back, before he was released later in the day.

Finally, word came that Diggity Dan and Tom Brown had been a little late for work, no surprise there, and that their tardiness might have saved their lives. Brown, the same man famous for inflicting severe emotional wounds on opposing right fielders with his merciless taunts, was spotted handing out water to victims in the streets around the World Trade Center.

With the Creatures having come together during the worst of times, the question now was how they would react when there was baseball again. The Yankees, no doubt, will become a national symbol of this city's resilience in October.

The Creatures said they can wait a few more days for the games to start again. Even then, it may never be the same for them.

"I love the Yankees, and I'll take some relief being around friends," Simpson said. "But during the World Series, it's packed, the whole world is watching, you don't know for sure anymore. And you know how we complained all the time about being searched and patted down going into the bleachers? Do we still complain?"

They will complain, eventually. They will bicker. They will curse. They will heckle the box seaters. That is what the Bleacher Creatures do. For now, though, there was only a sense of bewilderment, the need to help a torn city.

In New York's darkest hour, Tom Brown was handing out water to Met fans, and everybody rooted for each other.

E-mail: fjbondy@netscape.net

LOAD-DATE: September 17, 2001