Once again, long time no see! Things have been hectic, insomnia's been brutal... wah, wah, wah, freakin' wah.
But good news is on the horizon! We've got a nice little post right here (Jeter haters need not apply) and I've got some cool plans for October. I dig the fall, particularly the creepy nature that accompanies Halloween, so you can look forward to this little site being transformed into a HORROR BLOG (muahahahaha) for the entire month of October. Yeah, my ambition is to post some chilling tales weekly... well basically two stories broken up into parts, not all that dissimilar from last year. Yep, mark your friggin' calendars cuz it's gonna be sweet.
But for now, here's a little something about Jeter's 2,722nd hit, which positioned him above Lou Gehrig for most hits by a Yankee. A milestone which, rather fatefully, came on 9/11. I hope my fellow New Yorkers can relate to my enthusiasm for the timing of this monumental achievement.
Baseball Magic
Did you know the Yankees acquired Derek Jeter as a 6th overall pick in the 1992 draft?
Did you know that the Houston Astros held the number one pick that year? Despite the beyond-adamant urgings of their scout Hal Newhouser, who said he’d stake his reputation on Derek Jeter, the Astros went with Phil Nevin, undoubtedly wary about signing a prospect right out of high school and fearing Jeter’s insistence on a million dollar signing bonus to compete with the full scholarship offered to him by the University of Michigan. After this critical decision by the Astros, Newhouser not only resigned from the Astros organization, he never scouted again.
Did you know Derek Jeter sucked his first year in the minors? Seriously, he blew. He barely hit .200 in 1992 and went on to commit 56 errors in 1993. Supposedly, Derek would call home to his ever-supportive parents, in tears, telling them he didn’t think he could do it; that the Yankees “wasted their money.” That’s right, picture a 6-foot-2, 150 pound Derek Jeter sobbing into the phone about his inability to compete at a minor league level.
Did you know Tony Fernandez was the starting shortstop for the Yankees before Jeter? Then Tony got hurt and Jeter got the call. Before Tony’s injury, the Seattle Mariners actually attempted a trade for Jeter, hoping to exploit a lack of confidence in a shortstop that, at the time, really had not been game-tested. But Seattle underestimated the Yankees’ faith in Derek and the rest, as they say, is history.
So what does any of this have to do with baseball magic? Well, anyone who watches baseball on a regular basis is probably familiar with terms like “the baseball gods” and “baseball magic”. These expressions are thrown around in an attempt to portray the fateful nature that seems to be found in every seam of every ball; in the dirt and grass of every stadium; in every discarded sunflower shell on the floor of every dugout; in every dollop of pine tar smeared on every bat. Baseball, more than any other game, seems to have some kind of bigger plan in mind. It can consistently wow loyal fans with its genuinely uncanny nature, simultaneously tossing predictability aside and substituting chance and destiny for reason and sense.
Just think about it for a second. Think of every little detail that needed to align perfectly to put Jeter at the plate, in a Yankee uniform, poised to beat the all-time hit record for one of the greatest franchises ever to contend in Major League Baseball. If the Astros had listened to Newhouser, Jeter would have been in Houston. If he didn’t have the support of his parents, he may have washed right out of the minors. And if the Yankees hadn’t had faith in him as a starter, he could have been shipped out to Seattle, which could have changed the face of both franchises for years to come.
Instead, on a cool night in early September, with an oppressive mist hanging over the new Yankee Stadium, Derek Jeter hit a hotshot to right field with his patented inside-out swing. How appropriate that this iconic hit from this legendary player should come on September 11th, the single most infamous day in the history of the great city of New York.
Of course the date 9/11 is not a burden that New York bears alone. This is a day that will forever hold a notorious tone for our entire nation. But the atrocities waged on this day happened in the city of Manhattan, the crown jewel of the state of New York. Most Americans can tell you that New Yorkers are a prideful bunch, perhaps even to a fault. But having to endure the weight of these attacks in our own backyard only makes our dignity and fortitude that much stronger.
And the Yankees… Well, love ‘em or hate ‘em, if you think of a New York sports franchise, which is the first one that comes to mind? Granted, I am and always have been a Yankees fan. But whether you’re a lover or hater, a frontrunner or genuine diehard fan, it’s tough to deny that the state’s most well-known and prestigious professional sports franchise—known throughout the entire world—is the New York Yankees.
So, watching the captain of a franchise that is arguably most synonymous with the state of New York as he pushed past one of the most honored records in said franchise’s history on a day with such ugly connotations… well that really just struck a chord, didn’t it? As that ball buzzed down the right field line and Derek jogged to first base amidst the camera flashes that erupted throughout the stadium like miniature explosions, I couldn’t help but rise from my couch, fist in the air, and applaud like the other 44, 000+ fans enduring the exceptionally dreary weather in the Bronx. It may seem petty, but in the shadow of such a historically bleak day, Derek Jeter united a sizable portion of New York in celebration; the same state that watched firsthand as their two most prominent residents fell in an orgy of fire, twisted metal and shattered glass; the same state that, eight years prior, felt the heat of flames and tragedy as they burned in their most beloved city.
And as Derek stood on first, the game paused, the dugout emptying onto the field to congratulate their captain, couldn’t the fans feel a bit of joy on a day that seemed to incur the responsibility of complete joylessness?
But Derek stood there, tipping his hat to the greatest city in the world, admiring their feats of strength before his own on a day that showed our astounding ability to unite and endure.
Now that’s baseball magic.
