Hello there. If you are one of my few regular readers, you will soon realize that this post does not exactly fall in line with my usual format. If this is your first time visiting my blog, welcome, and I'm glad this post is your introduction to my writing. If you are not already aware, the New York Yankees play their 159th regular season game of the 2014 season tonight against the Baltimore Orioles. The only reason this is significant is because it will mark the last ever time their shortstop and captain Derek Jeter will play at Yankee Stadium as a member of the New York Yankees (not his last time at Yankee Stadium though. In 5 years he should make his return for the Old Timers Game). Jeter has been quite an influential figure in my life because...you know what? I'll just let the following essay explain why. I hope you enjoy it:
The scene is Game 3 of the 2001 American League Division Series: the New York Yankees against the Oakland Athletics in an elimination game for the Bronx Bombers. Holding a one-run lead in the seventh inning, A’s left fielder Jeremy Giambi resided on first base as right fielder Terrence Long lined a double into the right-field corner. As Giambi began rounding third base heading toward home plate, Yankees right fielder Shane Spencer gathered the ball and delivered an errant throw that seemed to be making its way well to the right of the catcher. Sensing the demise of the season on the horizon, the shortstop for the Yankees decided to act on his instincts and streak across the field to attempt to cut-off the wild throw. As the ball trickled down the first-base line, and with Giambi moments away from tying the game up, players, coaches, fans, and reporters all looked on with awe as the shortstop tracked down the ball like a predator pouncing on his prey in the wild and flipped it backhanded to catcher Jorge Posada who was able to quickly turn and tag the right leg of Giambi at the last possible moment before his foot landed on the plate. Broadcaster Thom Brennaman’s exuberant call (“…one of the most unbelievable plays you will ever see from a shortstop”) only heightened the drama surrounding the play. The Yankees went on to win this game, as well as the next two, advancing them to the next round of the playoffs.
The shortstop forever became entrenched in baseball history with this iconic moment, and even added a few more throughout his illustrious career, which now enters its final, tear-jerking act. As he makes his last visits to each opposing stadium, where praise and standing ovations are rained on him like he was the city of Seattle, the legions of Derek Jeter fans have been watching his swan song with a dose of nostalgia, sorrow, and unbridled appreciation.
My brother and I are no exception, as we have bonded over our childhood hero’s last hoorah in his #2 pinstripe jersey. While the quantity of games we all get to see Derek Jeter actually playing in is dwindling with every passing day, the magnitude of each at-bat and signature “jump-throw” only becomes that much greater. Yankee fans were all prepared for these emotions to surface when Jeter announced his eventual retirement prior to this season, but that does not make it any easier to deal with them. The baseball world might never be the same after Jeter hangs up the spikes, but, for now, I’m just enjoying every sighting I can get.
With a career spanning nearly 20 years, Derek Jeter is one of the rare athletes who can be in a position to greatly influence multiple generations of young baseball fans. Whether you were 10 years old in 1996, 2004, or 2012, Jeter has been the ultimate role model and the object of universal respect and admiration. His career accolades include a .310 lifetime batting average, five Gold Glove awards, 14 All-star game appearances, 3,444 career hits and counting (6th most all time), and, most importantly to Mr. Jeter, 5 World Series victories. See, that’s Derek’s most honorable trait: winning was placed above anything else. Recognition for individual achievements was nice, but the season was only considered a success if he and his teammates were hoisting that World Series trophy over their heads on the final game of the year.
As a result of his unselfish attitude, Jeter has become a beloved figure that has transcended sports in his impact on the millions of people who have watched him play. Widely regarded as the consummate professional, Jeter is one of very few players who can evoke at least some positive remarks from a fan of any baseball team, even rivals like the Boston Red Sox and New York Mets. He was the face of baseball for over a decade (sorry oblivious Jeter fans, but the torch has been passed to Mike Trout) with nary a scandal or controversial public act. He mostly kept to himself, but turned on the charm every time a camera or microphone was pushed into his face. He mastered the art of working the media, and struck a balance between celebrity and civilian like no other in his position of fame and fortune. For these reasons, and many others, Derek Jeter will certainly be remembered as an incredible person first, baseball player second. Something tells me Jeter wouldn’t mind that either.
No other athlete has had more of an impact on my life than “Mr. November”. Some of my fondest childhood memories occurred while watching Jeter and the Yankees in their glory years with my brother and grandfather. It seemed like everyone had their favorite signature Jeter play, and mine was his daredevil dive into the stands that saw him catch a foul ball and subsequently crash into the third row, only to emerge from the crowd bruised and cut up like he just got into a brawl in a back alley. The sight of this gracefully insane man sacrificing his body in such an extraordinarily acrobatic manner all just to catch a baseball, in a regular season game nonetheless, captivated me, along with thousands of others watching, the same way a music fan finds themselves awe-stricken while at an incredible concert, or how a movie-goer may leave the theater shaking his/her head in sheer disbelief over what his/her eyes just witnessed.
The only problem is everyone brings that play up when discussing Jeter. I can’t really claim that as my special connection to him, especially since I wasn’t even in the ballpark that day. So instead, I became transfixed with his undeniably unique and oft-replicated pre-at bat routine: gently tap the plate with his bat a couple times, dig his right foot into the back of the batter’s box, squeeze the edge of the bill of his helmet in between his thumb and index finger, flash a hand to the home plate umpire if he needs a little more time, and then bring his head to reveal that classic calm, confident gaze at the pitcher he is probably going to smack a single into right field off of.
It’s these small moments that made Jeter such a larger-than-life character to me. His consistency and “all-business” attitude is what allowed my grandfather to place Jeter in the company of the heroes he grew up watching, such as Joe DiMaggio, Yogi Berra, and Mickey Mantle, who were all legendary Yankees. This was the source of Derek Jeter’s magic. He bridged generational gaps between Yankee fans like no one else could. To the younger fans like my brother and me, Jeter was our DiMaggio or Mantle or, even more recently, Don Mattingly. He was the center of our baseball universe, the player we will tell our children and grandchildren that we grew up idolizing. The older generation adored Jeter because he could bring out those emotions they had as children learning the game of baseball. Watching Jeter’s youthful excitement while doing basically anything out on that field transported the elder fans back to whatever joyful experiences they remember from their first days as baseball fans.
I saw this in my grandfather’s eyes on certain occasions, and I would know it instantly. Before he would yell at my brother for cheering too loud, if I looked quickly, I would be able to spot a sly smile creep across his face. Subtle memories like these have made Derek Jeter symbolize, above all, family and togetherness to me. Not long after my grandfather passed in January 2010 (not before the Yankees provided him with one last World Series, though!), I painfully realized that the few most pronounced, cherished memories I had with my grandfather were just watching Yankee games with him. For years I resented that fact, blaming myself for not making more of an effort to spend time with him. I felt great sorrow that my juvenile ignorance got in the way of creating more quality memories.
It wasn’t until I learned that this season would be Jeter’s last that I finally changed my regret into acceptance. There should be nothing wrong with having baseball as my most prized possessions while reminiscing on my grandfather. In fact, I prefer it, because every April, when the men in pinstripes commence yet another season, I will forever pull up the mental image of myself sprawled along the floor of my basement, staring up at my grandfather in his favorite chair that is visibly worn out but will not be discarded because “I’ve had this chair since we moved into this house over 40 years ago”, incessantly asking him questions about all his favorite Yankees. Now, it is me who finds that same sly smile creeping across my face when I witness yet another remarkable play by Jeter, and I make sure to let it sit there an extra second or two every time.
Unfortunately, my grandfather did not make it to see Derek Jeter’s 3000th hit in 2011, which of course was a home run. Any time I re-watch that game (Jeter went 5-for-5 on the day), I immediately begin imagining what my grandfather’s reaction would have been when he saw the ball reach those rabid fans viciously swiping at what they most likely saw as a small, round dollar sign. I’d like to think that sight would have caused him to actually applaud audibly, something he rarely did. When the camera panned to catcher Jorge Posada embracing Jeter at home plate, I admit I got slightly choked up. A career full of emotional moments culminated in one, extended hug with his partner-in-crime. Still to this day, I have never felt so present at an athletic event that I wasn’t actually present for. However, Jeter’s helmet tip to the fans that day felt like he was acknowledging each and every one of us who followed his career since the beginning.
Now, on the day of Jeter’s last home game as a New York Yankee, I can safely, and sadly, say my childhood is officially over. I have transplanted myself to a completely new environment, over two hours away from home, at college. Jeter was perhaps the most predictable aspect of my nearly 18 years in this world; I never had to worry about him appearing to me 162 times a year. Even though I’m losing my last visual connection to my grandfather with his retirement, Jeter, like my grandfather, simply can never be removed from my memory. No matter what, the two of them will be linked forever in my mind, and that is exactly the way I want it to be.
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