What, if anything, does it all mean?
I thought about that question a lot today. After all, the Yankees don't pay my bills. (Hat tip, my father.)
But it does mean something. When I was young, the Yankees had an independent value -- as if whether they won or lost directly added or subtracted actual quality from my life. As I've become more mature, that feeling has certainly gone.
What I realize now is that I'm no longer a Yankees fan as much as I'm a fan of Mariano Rivera, Derek Jeter, Andy Pettitte, Hideki Matsui, etc. Although I don't know them at all, these guys are old friends. The most familiar of faces. I can't imagine the team without them. In a sense, I can't imagine living without them. And I wonder what interest I'll have in the Yankees when they go. And, of course, I'm also a fan of all of you, and how this game brings us together.
Baseball, for me, is a way to mark time. The various Yankees moments recall times in my life. I recall sitting alone in Manassas, Virginia, a TV on the floor of my small bedroom, watching the Yankees beat the Mets in 2000. I was 21 years old. My father called me on a land line to celebrate. I watched Game 7 of the 2001 World Series with Mike Critchley, at that time one of my very best friends, now a man I have not spoken to in four years. I watched the Yankees huge win in 2003 with my brother, both of us reeling from our parents' separation and in dire need of something good. I watched the Yankees go down in 2002 with Mark Rosenwasser, saw them win in 1998 in Wilson Hall with Adam and the Gander, and lose in 2006 in Kay's Tavern in Stroudsburg. And so on and so forth. And this year, I'll remember that Saturday night Game 4 with most of you, and of course Game 6, sitting alone in my apartment, much like I did in Manassas. What has changed? Not nearly enough.
Yet this victory was special because it could be the last for some of our most beloved Yankees. Unlike past victories, when the joy was mine, this season I felt especially glad for our boys. That, too, is a sign of growing up.
And so, we look to next season, and I wonder what the Yankees will look like, and what our lives will look like when the 2010 season finishes.
Until then, I love you all. And I love Mariano Rivera, the greatest pitcher to ever play.
God bless.
-Steiner
But it does mean something. When I was young, the Yankees had an independent value -- as if whether they won or lost directly added or subtracted actual quality from my life. As I've become more mature, that feeling has certainly gone.
What I realize now is that I'm no longer a Yankees fan as much as I'm a fan of Mariano Rivera, Derek Jeter, Andy Pettitte, Hideki Matsui, etc. Although I don't know them at all, these guys are old friends. The most familiar of faces. I can't imagine the team without them. In a sense, I can't imagine living without them. And I wonder what interest I'll have in the Yankees when they go. And, of course, I'm also a fan of all of you, and how this game brings us together.
Baseball, for me, is a way to mark time. The various Yankees moments recall times in my life. I recall sitting alone in Manassas, Virginia, a TV on the floor of my small bedroom, watching the Yankees beat the Mets in 2000. I was 21 years old. My father called me on a land line to celebrate. I watched Game 7 of the 2001 World Series with Mike Critchley, at that time one of my very best friends, now a man I have not spoken to in four years. I watched the Yankees huge win in 2003 with my brother, both of us reeling from our parents' separation and in dire need of something good. I watched the Yankees go down in 2002 with Mark Rosenwasser, saw them win in 1998 in Wilson Hall with Adam and the Gander, and lose in 2006 in Kay's Tavern in Stroudsburg. And so on and so forth. And this year, I'll remember that Saturday night Game 4 with most of you, and of course Game 6, sitting alone in my apartment, much like I did in Manassas. What has changed? Not nearly enough.
Yet this victory was special because it could be the last for some of our most beloved Yankees. Unlike past victories, when the joy was mine, this season I felt especially glad for our boys. That, too, is a sign of growing up.
And so, we look to next season, and I wonder what the Yankees will look like, and what our lives will look like when the 2010 season finishes.
Until then, I love you all. And I love Mariano Rivera, the greatest pitcher to ever play.
God bless.
-Steiner
posted by Anthony at 9:43 PM
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