All I kept thinking after Robertson blew the game in the ninth was….A Jeter walkoff? Maybe? Possibly?
Well, OK, I also thought what a shame it was that Kuroda got screwed yet again. Talk about a hard luck pitcher. He threw a brilliant game and could have finished it, but I got that you’re supposed to go to your closer, blah blah.
The main attraction was The Captain and how the night would end for him. I desperately didn’t want him to strike out or hit into a DP in the bottom of the inning. And I would have carried a lifelong grudge against Showalter if he’d intentionally walked him. And then came that familiar Jeterian swing followed by sheer joy – his and mine and everyone else’s. He looked so happy, didn’t he? When he jumped in the air arms raised in celebration, he was a rookie again mobbed by his teammates. And the presence of Andy, Bernie, Jorge and Mo was icing on the cake.
He still seemed dazed during his post-game press conference, admitting that when he stood there at shortstop in the top of the ninth he was saying, “Please don’t hit the ball to me” – very un-Jeter-like but totally understandable.
I loved seeing his mom get all teary, loved watching him pick up his little nephew, loved that he had his girlfriend there but wouldn’t give her the full PDA treatment in front of everybody (very Jeter-like). Oh, and I loved that the Yankees won the game. :)
So it’s on to Boston for the finish to the 2014 season – anticlimactic for sure. My friends here are excited about the Dodgers’ prospects in the playoffs and I’ll throw my support to them. But in the meantime, I’ll let tonight linger in my mind. It was magical.