Commenting on my last post, good friend of the blog, Peggy, wrote that her daughter is getting married and there are plans in the works to put some Yankee-ness into the proceedings. She mentioned that the bride and groom are thinking of entering the reception hall after the ceremony to “Enter Sandman.” Excellent choice, in my opinion.
She also said the bride doesn’t want the groom to wear a Yankees tuxedo. But what about tuxedo studs?
Or, at the very least, he could wear Yankees cufflinks depicting vintage maps of the area around Yankee Stadium. They’d make great gifts for his groomsmen too.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Peggy’s daughter and son-in-law-to-be need an appropriate invitation. May I suggest stationery featuring the interlocking N-Y?
It goes without saying that the food should be served in Yankees containers, even if the menu items are more elaborate than French fries.
Speaking of food, there must be a Yankee Stadium wedding cake. I mean, come on.
As for the bride herself, she should definitely wear Yankees garter belts.
And if money is no object, I’d go straight to Vera Wang and have a dress designed with the Yankees logo covering the dress and the veil. But since most people are on a budget these days, what about a simple look like this?
Just a few ideas for you, Peggy. Use them as you see fit.
…walked Mo with the bases loaded in the top of the ninth tonight to put the Yankees up by two runs and hand Mo his first RBI ever.
And then Mo finished off the Mets in their half inning for the Yankees’ 4-2 victory, the series sweep and his milestone 500th career save.
After he notched the final out, there was no fist pumping, no theatrics, just his customary classy, humble demeanor. His teammates gathered around to congratulate him, and I sat in my living room sobbing like a sentimental fool.
Mo is my favorite Yankee, and I was touched by the outpouring of affection for him.
So while an actual ball game did take place at Citi Field – Wang got his first win of the year, the bats struck early against Livan Hernandez, Cano was horrible in the clutch, Hughes was impressive in relief, the Mets looked absolutely hapless – this one was about Mo.
And we go around the horn.
From the Daily News…
Mariano Rivera earns 500th save as Yankees sweep Mets
From the New York Times…
Milestone for Rivera and Sweep for Yanks
I hope he’s celebrating with some champagne. He said on ESPN tonight that he doesn’t even drink coffee, but maybe he’s having a little toast with his pals. Here’s one from me, Mo:
“Thanks for all those saves (and even the non-saves). Don’t ever retire. We need you. Here’s to your continued good health.”
I love this man. He is my favorite Yankee. If he asked me to, I would shine his shoes, do his laundry, wash the dishes at his steakhouse in Westchester and then mop the floors until every last morsel of tenderloin, hash browns and creamed spinach was gone. I can’t stand Metallica, but when they play “Enter Sandman” at the Stadium, I break out into this insane chanting/clapping/laughing thing that makes me look like a total freak. I’m that worshipful.
But I’m not delusional. I realize that this season is Mariano Rivera’s 15th in pinstripes. He is 39, getting balder by the second and coming off shoulder surgery. And he’s only signed through 2010.
I shouldn’t have been surprised when the subject of his retirement was raised at spring training and yet it threw me – positively knocked me down.
“The end is coming, sooner or later,” he said, according to Peter Abraham. “Only God knows when it comes.”
The end is coming?
I took a breath after reading Mo’s statement and tried to envision what my Yankee fan life would be without him – and I couldn’t. No matter when he calls it quits, it’ll be end-of-days time. Nothing will be the same.
I will completely lose my appetite.
I will not be able to sleep.
I will not dance to the song “What Is Love” by Haddaway or bop my head back and forth.
The sun will never shine. Not even once.
Electrical power outages will occur throughout the land.
Cars will inadvertently crash into each other and burst into flames.
Homes and businesses will close forever.
Children will cry, and nothing and no one will be able to stop them.
Even members of the animal kingdom will be overcome with sadness.
Mo’s last day as a Yankee wouldn’t be about losing one of the greatest closers in the history of the game. Well, O.K. It sort of would be. (Do we go out and get a Joe Nathan or do we stay in-house and groom Joba?) But mostly, it would mean the end of an era, and I’m just not ready to go there. Not for a long, long time.