When I was growing up, my first heroes were the New York Yankees. Every saturday afternoon I would sit with my grandpa and watch the CBS Game Of The Week. At least once each game he would howl with laughter over something Dizzy Dean would say. Me? I would hang on every detail broadcast by the Dizz and his partner, Pee Wee Reece.
My heroes had the names of Mickey Mantel, Whitey Ford, Yogi Berri, Don Larsen, Elston Howard, Hank Bauer and Tony Kubek. The Captain of the Yankees might as well be the Captain of all baseball.
Every home game of these dramas came from Yankee Stadium. Yankee Stadium -- the home of the greatest teams and greatest players to play the game. When I was a kid, I saw the rest of baseball only because they played the Yankees.
Last night Yankee Stadium hosted its last game. How many World Series games were played there? Yankee Stadium became the stage for big prize fights, football games and concerts. For 85 years, Yankee Stadium was a world stage.
I watched the last game ever to played in Yankee Stadium last night. Past Yankee greats paraded across the screen. Reggie was interviewed. Clips of the Yankee ghosts who made that stadium their playground were played.
I was fine. I watched the game and festivities mostly smiling. After the last out was made, Frank Sinatra's New York, New York played one last time. I watched with a smile. Derek Jeter, Captain of the Yankees, said Tradition, History and Memories and I watched with a smile.
Then the TV camera hit a hand-made sign.
"The last person to leave, turn out the lights."
I found myself sitting alone in front of the TV with tears rolling down my cheeks. The flood of memories started to hit me. The final realization that no more World Series games would be broadcast from Yankee Stadium.
These final broadcast words uttered over my TV, "And the Captains and Kings depart" made it final.
Goodbye Yankee Stadium.
It's not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
