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Tonight at 8:05PM will be the last game played at Yankee Stadium. For me, it'll be a historic and sad night. I grew up with this place, you know? I've sat everywhere, and managed to go to one of the last games (upper deck, baby). It's the House that Ruth built, where Gehrig gave his famous speech, where DiMaggio, Mantle, Berra, Maris, Rizzuto, Mr. October, Mattingly, Jeter and everyone have graced the stadium with their presence. My favorite part of the subway ride is that little glimpse inside the stadium before it slows to a stop. It's quick, but your heart, or at least mine, jumps with excitement. I look over at the new stadium and think, "It won't be the same." It looks so... stately or something out The Fountainhead. Then again, I'm just sad. I'm sure the new one will be nice and new memories and historic moments will happen there but... let's face it, nothing can replace the original. Nothing can replace that history, those moments. I milked every moment of my last game there: the roar for Derek Jeter every time he came to bat, the yells and whoops and high fives when home runs were hit and runs were scored, the booing of bad calls, attempts at starting the wave around the stadium, the food, the YMCA grounds crew, the 7th inning stretch, the teammates high fiving each other at the end, and as always, the sounds of Frank Sinatra closing out the night. I'm sure the roar of the crowd will be the same in the new house, but we'll all look at each other as if something's missing. "It'll be okay," we'll say. Because we're Yankee fans, and we embrace. We love the team, we love the players. They bring us joy, and they bring us heartache. This stadium housed it all. So goodbye, Yankee Stadium. You've been good to me. |