Yankee Stadium's Last Game

Once those words echoed through Yankee Stadium, in ceremonies before the last baseball game in what is recognized as America's most famous sports venue, the former Yankee first baseman emerged from the home dugout, waved to the fans, and trotted out to the initial sack.

Bill Skowron belongs to my father's era, but his career extended into mine. He played first for the Yankees in 1961, when Roger Maris' pursuit of Babe Ruth's single-season homer record pushed the Tigers off the sports section front page and got me interested in baseball. He was part of the first big trade I remember; sent to the Dodgers for pitcher Stan Williams after the 1962 season to make way for Joe Pepitone. He later played for the Senators and White Sox. On Tiger games from Washington and Chicago, cries of "Mooooose!" penetrated the radio play-by play. And sometimes it seems as if no one but my friend The Baseball Fan and I remember that he finished with the California Angels.

On closing night at Yankee Stadium, Bill Skowron's face was lined and leathery, as were the faces of his teammates; the young men on the baseball cards I bought when wax packs cost a nickel and came with gum: Bobby Richardson, Whitey Ford, Don Larsen, Yogi Berra.

Forty-six Septembers have passed since Maris and Mantle chased the Babe and Bill Skowron hit behind them. The Baseball Fan's face has also become lined, and her hair, once a shimmering ash blonde, has grayed. We watched the finale at Yankee Stadium, with the TV sound off and the radio on. Never mind that radio was five seconds ahead of TV. It would, after all, be the last time John Sterling could tell his listeners, from the old stadium, THAAA Yankees win!

We were reminded of former Yankees who weren't introduced before the game, and of those, more than we realized, who wore the pinstripes and interlocking NY in our era--young men in the baseball card collection--who had passed away.

All those years that had gone by. When, and how, did they get by us?

We were reminded of the time line that began before the first of those forty-six summers, watched over by our fathers, handed to us to pass on to our kids. Players, teams, and stadiums may come and go, but the game is forever. Our sons will tell their sons, after a game at the new Yankee Stadium, of Jeter and A-Rod and Constantino Martinez; October heroes who played right over there-

Then they'll point to the green space across the street, where the old stadium had stood, and walk over, and become wrapped in the memories of legends. There used to be a ball park right here, someone who knows the Frank Sinatra discography will say.

The Baseball Fan and I didn't even mind that the Yankees came out on top, 7-5 over the Baltimore Orioles.

Some things are best learned when you're young. Foreign languages, a love of music, a knack for cooking. Growing up with baseball in an American League city that isn't New York means a dislike for the Yankees is acquired early and tends to stick. On closing night at Yankee Stadium, however, we decided it was okay if thaaa Yankees won.