And now the curtain has officially closed on the career of Derek Jeter, the pride of what we will one day no doubt refer to as the “turn of the century” Yankees, or perhaps turn of the millennium. Derek Jeter truly bridged the gap from the God-awful Yankees of the late Mattingly era, to the adequate years of today. Twenty years from now will I say such and such player started in the Jeter era and came to dominate the sport? Or even stick around in the Bronx for more than a few seasons? In the age of scandal-happy social media and hyper free agency, I doubt it. Of course I hope I’m wrong.
Without question it is a cliche to lament there will never be another Derek Jeter. I’m pretty sure it was said about Ruth, Gehrig, DiMaggio, Mantle. People have written books about it. But more than will there ever be another Derek Jeter? (I’m sure there will be), I wonder whether there will ever be another Derek Jeter for me. Perhaps not. If nothing else, two things are certain. One, I’m never again going to be younger than any player coming up through the big leagues. Hard to look up to somebody 10 years younger than you are. And two, well, I’ll never be young again. Never be a kid again. I started following Derek Jeter when I was 13. That won’t happen again. Something about Thursday night’s game had me thinking, my youth just ended. That was it. The player I watched with my dad and Grandpa Gallagher and Joe. My last childhood hero just walked off (pun intended) into the sunset.
The beautiful thing about sports is that they do keep us young. Watching Derek Jeter the other night or any night did make me feel 13 again. Some day I’ll watch some other player, perhaps yet unborn, and feel the same way. I’ll watch the game with my son or grandkids, and be transported back in time. I’m hardly the first person to note this, but perhaps this is the first time it’s really sunk in for me on a personal level.
The Keith Olbermanns of the world can knock hero worship all they want; the rest of us are still going to partake. And really, Olbermann, what difference does it make? Who cares that we want to shower affection on someone or something that has brought us so much joy? Are we harming you or anyone else in some way? Yes, in a way sports are completely meaningless; they have no bearing on the actual struggles of mankind and the universe. But in another way sports are completely filled with meaning, about life and friendship, and the passage of time and generations. There are a lot of people in the world who make me happy. Derek Jeter’s one of them, and we’ve never even met. But he reminds me of my youth and the good times I had growing up. I used to feel the same way about Keith Olbermann (waking up early to watch Sportscenter six times in a row!). Some day Keith is going to be on his “farewell” tour and I’m going to resist the urge to say something like, “He was a pretty good broadcaster… but he wasn’t that good!”
Rather than letting the retirement of Derek Jeter be the end of my enjoyment with sports I’m letting it be a new beginning. I’ve got a new generation now with whom to enjoy those meaningless moments: thrills of victory and agonies of defeat. I hope that our new generation of stars brings as much class to the operation as Derek Jeter. Or at least comes around. Remember when Jeter was a partyboy in the ’90s? Well, I guess we all grow up eventually.