As a long-time Yankee fan, who remembers when Joe DiMaggio still patrolled center-field, I've got a repository of (mostly) great memories. Frankly, I've had more thrills than fans of other teams could expect in several lifetimes, and am most happy for that fact. But even though the Yankee uniforms look the same, I can't help but recognize that people drop out of the lineup with every passing year. Although augmented by free-agency, change is, alas, nothing if not the nature of the game. While most players move around over the course of their careers, there are still some who stay with the same team with which they were rookies. The length a baseball careers vary greatly as well, some lasting less than a single season, with others extending beyond twenty-years! With close to sixty-years (gasp!) as a Yankee fan, I have seen the skills of many wonderful young athletes wane with the passage of time. I remember when Phil Rizzuto was unceremoniously dropped from the lineup and "reassigned" to the broadcast booth in the middle of the season. It was a rude awakening for me of the harsh realities of baseball, and how very unsentimental the game actually is at its core. It is ironic how our heroes of old are celebrated at old-timer's days, when--as players-- they were discarded as quickly as yesterday's milk as soon as their shelf-life ended. Even Babe Ruth, a man whose name is still synonymous with the Yankees, was dispatched to the Boston Braves in 1935. One likes to think that the Babe could have been provided a more graceful exit. I mean, if not him, who? Jackie Robinson, the great pioneer against segregation in baseball, and a man who was the very heart of the old Brooklyn Dodgers, retired before accepting an end-of-career trade to the New York Giants. "Thanks, Jackie, please close the door on your way out! But such is the nature of the sport, indeed, all sports, and, in a way, life itself (for which sports, after all, is but a metaphor).
Last year, when the Yankees brought the World Series Championship back to the Bronx for the first time since 2000 (an eternity for Yankee fans), it seemed a fitting greeting for the new Yankee Stadium, then in its inaugural year. Much was made of the "core four," Derek Jeter, Jorge Posada, Andy Pettite, and Mariano Rivera, who, as young men, were present on the first of Joe Torre's World Championship teams in 1996, and led the team to its 2009 World Series victory. Good as the Yankees were in 2009, many saw their victories in the post-season more as triumphs of their will to win than being the better team. The mighty Phillies, champions in 2008 were expected to repeat, but fell to the tenacious Yanks in six games.
But alas, that was then, and this was now. For the Yankees, the 2010 season is over, and with it, Messrs. Jeter, Posada, Pettite and Rivera are getting older. In 1996, the ages of the "core four" ranged from 22 to 26. Now the youngest of the four, certain Hall of Famer, Derek Jeter, is 36, and showing it. While he batted a semi-respectable .270, it was nearly 50 points below his lifetime batting average. The oldest, Mariano Rivera (sometimes called, fittingly, "the Great Rivera" is now 40, and showing it as well. Rivera, also a "first ballot" Hall of Famer, had (and, for the most part, still has) the uncanny ability to baffle hitters even if they know what he is doing. For years, he had but a single pitch, the "cut fastball," called so for its ability to move in on the hands of left-handed batters and away from righties. He has single-handedly been more responsible for shattering opponents bats than the rest of baseball's closers combined. But his skills, while still awesome, have visibly frayed. Closers like Rivera are brought in in the last inning, usually to preserve a lead of three runs or less. If they fail to do that, it is called a "blown save." In the Yankee's near-disastrous September, "Mo" blew three saves, more than he had done over a decade of preceding Septembers. Although Andy Pettite was in the process of one of his best seasons, a groin injury curtailed his return. Unfortunately, he has never been quite the same. While he struggled manfully in the A.L.C.S., he twice failed to win. As for Jorge Posada, the once-powerful run producer batted just a few points over .250, and his arm strength is such that opposing base-runners can almost steal on him at will.
As a fan, of course, I have the right to age (and have done so with great consistency) without my abilities being questioned. If I can no longer run around for hours on end on the tennis courts, who (other than I) cares ? My skills as an armchair manager, however, remain undiminished by time. But for professional athletes, perennially forced to compete against younger, stronger players (whose only dream is to replace them), the pressure to not only intense, but incessant. So what does one say to these great athletes, still young as human beings, but in late-middle-age as baseball players. For one, I say thanks. You have given me, and countless fans, great joy over the years. I have applauded your many achievements, and applaud your continued efforts.
One of the most talented players in history to wear a baseball uniform, Mickey Mantle, was a shadow of his former self when he played his last game, but was given the dignity of doing so as a Yankee. So, of course, was Joe DiMaggio, who was able to read the writing on the centerfield wall, and make way for Mantle. I hope that the same courtesies are extended to each of "the core four." I know I'm not the only Yankee fan who could not imagine (much less abide) Derek Jeter playing for another team. So boys, when you do choose to hang up your respective gloves (and I hope it is at times of your own choosing), I will remember not only the summers of your careers when it (seemingly) all came so easily, but for the grace you continued to display as your autumns began to darken. You have (to mix sports metaphors) "fought the good fight," and I cheer you in defeat much as I did in victory. I am very proud of my aging boys of October.
No comments:
Post a Comment