Sean B. Fitzgerald It doesn’t go something like this, it goes exactly like this.

Yankee Stadium

Today is the last regular season game at Yankee Stadium. I say 'regular season' because it's not over yet. There's a chance. Right?

Over my twenty years on this planet I've been to a countless number of games. Since I live only 25 minutes from the stadium, it's easy to get tickets, get in the car, and head on over to the stadium at a moments notice. I started going to games before I could remember. I know I did because there are pictures. Back before the Yankees were still in there Stump Merrill phase.

I've been to Yankee blowouts, opponent blowouts, nail-biters, extra innings games, rainouts, meaningless September games, and two playoff games.

My first playoff game was Game 2 of the 1996 American League Championship Series between the Yankees and the Orioles. The Yanks had won game 1 in dramatic fashion on a 11th inning Bernie Williams' walkoff homerun. I was nine years old at the time and even at that time I had been to many games. But nothing like this. It was obviously a different atmosphere. The year prior the Yankees lost a heart breaking ALDS to the Seattle Mariners. A series in which they led 2 games to none. So as expected, the fans were amped up to even make it a series further in this year.

I went with my dad and we didn't have the greatest of seats. Upper deck right field side by the foul pole. The section where Giambi hit's 100% of his homeruns. And if you've been to any baseball, football, basketball, soccer, cricket, hockey, NASCAR, golf event, the further you get from the field in the stands, the uglier, drunker, stupider the fans are. And we had some winners around us. But that goes for any Yankee game.

The Yankees ended up losing that game. The only game they would lose in the series. I was disappointed, but just happy I was able to attend a playoff game in the year the Yanks won the series.

Probably, my fondest memory of Yankee Stadium is when I went to a game on May 17, 1998. To be honest, that day, I did not want to go. One of my little league games had been rescheduled to that day. So I played third base for the first three innings, then my dad took me out to go the game with my whole family. At that time, I'd rather play third base for my team and lose than go to a Yankee game.

The game started innocuous enough, at most games do. Our seats were field level by the left field foul pole. As the game progressed me and my father began to look at eachother because we both knew what was happening. My sister and mom, not so much. They whined and complained that it was too hot, the seats were uncomfortable and the people were obnoxious. They were ready to leave in the 6th. Trying his best to avoid mentioning the situation, my dad explained that we could be watching history. He told my mom that we would leave after the next Twins' hit. She agreed.

6th inning. 7th inning. 8th inning all coasted by without a whiff of a hit, and still not a baserunner.. Even at this moment my mom and sister knew what was going on. They had watched enough baseball to know this doesn't happen everyday. Top of the ninth. 26 Twins' up to the plate. All 26 back to the bench. The final out was a fly out to Paul O'Neill. The Yankees celebrated. We celebrated.

I'll miss Yankee Stadium. But I guess, not at much as other people. In the end, it is just a structure. A place where games are played. A place where moments occur. We may not have Yankee Stadium forever, but we will will have the moments.