Matters of politics, religion, hurricane-blighted memories, lipsticked pigs, hick-chick veep picks, community organizers and Palin-tology fade into nothing today as the fabulous (except for this year) New York Yankees play their final game at the storied edifice that Ruth built. ESPN and others are going wall-to-wall with coverage starting. . . oh! just about now. Just scanning the NYT articles today, I feel so much of my life flashing in front of me, but in a good way.
God, wasn’t it just yesterday my dad was talking about how fast Mantle got down the line, especially when he hit left-handed? Wasn’t it yesterday my fourth-grade teacher was telling us that if we all worked hard and behaved, she would let us watch the Yankees in the World Series, back when, way back when the games were played in the daytime like Miller Huggins intended? I’m so glad I made it up there this summer to see a game.
What a place…what a team…what a history. If there is any justice in the universe, any semblance of meaning that can be grasped, the Yanks will win today behind Andy Pettite.
No-hitter? Shutout? Jeter homers in the ninth? No, no. We don’t want to be greedy. Just one last win at the old park, okay? Too much to ask?