NEW YORK – Derek Jeter was taking one last lap around the Stadium infield, pretending he was toweling the sweat off his face, fooling no one. Everyone in the ballpark knew the captain was fighting off the tears he’d been holding back all night. This was Jeter’s moment, his game, his entire career wrapped up in the sound of Frank Sinatra’s “My Way” wafting through the air. Jeter wouldn’t let go and neither could a sold-out crowd, still on its feet, chanting his name. It was the sound of celebration and awe, combined in perfect harmony after one of baseball’s most magical endings. Derek Jeter a hero to the end northjersey/sports/klapisch-derek-jeter-a-hero-to-the-end-1.1096807#sthash.Yz2Jkz7F.dpuf This was drama that could test the limits of the written word: Jeter, in his final at-bat in the Bronx, punched the game-winning single in the bottom of the ninth to give the Yankees a 6-5 win over the Orioles. It wasn’t just a base hit; it was Jeter’s gift to the game. Not even the most cynical among us would deny the sense of impending history as Jeter stood in the batter’s box – the moment was too huge, too perfect, for the captain to fail. David Robertson had blown a three-run lead in the top of the ninth, including home runs by Adam Jones and Steve Pearce. The crowd, woozy with goodwill all night, was now silent with rage at Robertson’s failure. It was like spray-painting graffiti on the Mona Lisa. But with the score tied, and the winning run on second in the bottom of the ninth, the fates conspired to give Jeter one more chance. Someone asked the shortstop what he was thinking as stepped to the plate. “Don’t cry,” Jeter said, smiling but not kidding. Instead, he summoned the gene that had separated him from bigger, faster, stronger ballplayers for the better part of 20 years, and did what he’s always done, drawing in his hands and punching Evan Meek’s fastball through the right side of the Orioles’ infield. The ball reached right fielder Nick Markakis in an eye blink and looked like he might throw out Antoan Richardson at the plate. But Markakis’ throw sailed a degree or two off target, like it’d been hijacked by a wind shear, allowing Richardson to beat Caleb Joseph’s desperate tag. It took the ballpark a millisecond to digest what’d just happened. And then it hit you: Jeter had done it again, for what felt like the millionth time in his career. The fans didn’t just erupt, they turned the place into Woodstock. Over and over, they chanted DE-REK JE-TER as a show of respect and farewell. The captain, honoring his fans’ loyalty, announced he had played his final game in the field. The Yankees have three games remaining in Boston, but Jeter indicated he’d appear only as a designated hitter or pinch-hitter, and even then might skip tonight’s game altogether. And really, who could blame him? All day, Jeter keep fighting the overwhelming sense that his career was ending, that “the dream I’ve lived since I was 4 or 5 years old” was yielding to the passage of time. The 40-year-old Jeter remained convinced his skills were intact, but for the first time since childhood admitted, “I didn’t feel [like playing]” anymore. Thus, the thick, stoic wall began crumbling in the hours leading up to the first pitch. “I almost started crying driving [to the Stadium]. I almost lost it,” he said. There was a similar breakdown when his teammates presented him with farewell gifts in the clubhouse – one more time, the captain’s eyes grew moist and red. And once he was on the field, Jeter looked around and saw all the reminders of his past, including Core Four teammates Andy Pettitte, Mariano Rivera and Jorge Posada, not to mention Joe Torre, too. Jeter felt un-focused, unable to concentrate, committing a rare throwing error in the second inning, flashing defensive signals to second baseman Stephen Drew, “even when there was no runners on base,” he said. Maybe it’s because Jeter was all that mattered after the Yankees had been eliminated from the wild-card race a day earlier. There was no pressure, nothing at stake, only a full-blown block party waiting to explode. The fans knew it, too, arriving hours earlier than usual, packing the stands by 5 p.m., even in the rain. No one wanted to sit, no one wanted to get comfortable, counting down the hours until Jeter’s first at-bat. And there he was, ambushing Kevin Gausman’s fastball, nearly hitting a home run to left-center. That was Jeter’s way of telling the Orioles that, even though the East was theirs, the night was his. And even though the captain failed to get the ball out of the infield in his next three at-bats, Robertson’s blown save set the stage for that surreal ninth-inning rally. Jose Pirela led off with a single to left. Brett Gardner bunted him to second. Richardson arrived as a pinch-runner. The next move was Jeter’s. Even before he stepped to the batter’s box, the crowd was already preparing its own farewell. “Thank you, Derek” was the chant that wafted down from the stands, building to a decibel-level that hasn’t been heard in the Bronx since the championship season in 2009. Jeter listened in disbelief. “I’m hearing [the fans] saying ‘thank you Derek’ and I’m thinking, ‘for what?’” he said. “I was just trying to do my job.” That’s why no one wanted to let Jeter slip away into retirement, not just yet. There was one more magical moment left in him, the clean single to right that instantly became larger than life, like Aaron Boone’s HR that sent the Yankees to the World Series in 2003, like Chris Chambliss’s playoff HR in 1976, right there with Jeter’s 3,000th hit or his Mr. November homer in 2001. This wasn’t October, but it sure felt like it. The standings didn’t matter, not on this night. Everything else seemed like an accessory – the innings were played only to get to Jeter’s next plate appearance. And it ended with a walk-off that’s already embedded in our memory banks, now and forever. Maybe that’s why Jeter took so long to finish that last stroll around the infield. It’s why he squatted down and seemed to say a prayer before waving goodbye to the fans, tipping his cap to the Orioles, who respectfully remained in the dugout to watch Jeter. They, too, were clapping for the Yankee legend, the last man on the field, tough enough to cry on his way out. More on Jeters final game - See more at: northjersey/sports/klapisch-derek-jeter-a-hero-to-the-end-1.1096807#sthash.Yz2Jkz7F.dpuf
Posted on: Fri, 26 Sep 2014 14:47:46 +0000
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