At The Break

Sorry about the lack of post yesterday. I suppose like the big leaguers, I was on my All-Star break. Rather than blog, I watched the game last night. And something kind of bizarre happened: I got a little misty. 

Now I don't consider myself a terribly sentimental guy. I don't cry and I very rarely get wispy. But during the introductions of the game, I started getting a little choked up. The All-Star game has traditionally been on of my favorite events of the year. I think I've watched just about every one since 1986. Perhaps there was some significance because it was the last All-Star game at Yankee Stadium. Maybe it was the presence of all those Hall of Famers. But quite suddenly, I wasn't the jaded 30 year old has been ball player. I was the 10 year old kid who was dreaming of being on that field one day, playing against the best in the game. 

So, yeah, I was getting a bit emotional, but I was hanging on to my composure. Then they brought George Steinbrenner out to deliver the balls used for the ceremonial first pitch. And he was bawling, absolutely crying his soul out. And I lost it. I'm no Yankee fan, but even I was affected by seeing The Boss sob. To me, it was like being a soldier in Patton's platoon, and seeing him cry. You just can't help yourself. 

Thankfully, I wasn't a complete blubbering mess. But a couple tears were shed. Then Sheryl Crow came out and sang the National Anthem and the moment passed.