I had the chance to wander around outside of Yankee Stadium for an hour or so before Game Six. I’ll use clichés to describe the atmosphere: you could cut the tension with a knife, the air was electric (the crowd was buzzing), hearts were aflutter, and a lot of people were drunk.
Here’s what pisses my friend Steve off: “For the past ten years, people have been saying that the Yankees have proven how money can’t buy a World Series. Today they say that the Yankees’ winning just proves you can buy a World Series.”
There were a lot of solitary men around River Ave. looking for individual tickets to last night’s game. They had signs, mostly, and stood apart from the usual scalper crowd. From the desperation in their middle-aged eyes, you might have guessed that the Yankees had never ever won a World Series before.
Here’s what Ted thinks about the Yankees’ winning: “In the end, the Yankees’ winning again signals a sort of return to normalcy, for better or worse. It’s like John Wayne regaining control of the ranch away from the raggedy outsiders.” Or a white, Protestant, male regaining the White House. Zing.
Not enough people have taken the time to mock the whole “Win one for the Boss” theme. They were even selling officially licensed tee shirts outside the stadium with said motto. Has George Steinbrenner really had it so bad? Did he recently become – somehow – a sympathetic figure? Will this 27th ring be the one that finally allows the old codger to take a deep, satisfied puff on his cigar, tell himself “my life’s work is now complete” and then go gently into the Tampa night?