NEW YORK, N.Y., Oct. 18, 2001 — Well, the “Series of the New Century” is here. Pretty consumed with following the Yankees/A’s series the last week or so, I have listened and read with some interest as Yankee fans and foes alike have talked about the coming contest, as we waited to see if the confrontation between the Yanks and Mariners would take place. Some were intrigued as the A’s (terrifyingly) and the Indians threatened to crash the party.

Who could have predicted that the Mariners would dare have a season such as this a mere three years after the Yanks posted their 114 regular season, and 125 all told, victories? Many were incensed at the new pretenders to the throne. Others were, in a refreshing burst of honesty, simply trying to track the route to Championship #27 that had the fewest pitfalls along the way. And some felt that, although we had trudged through Cleveland on our march to the sea, so to speak, in capturing #24 that magical year of 1998, we still owed them some revenge and retribution for their having sullied our streak by knocking us off in 1997.

Too consumed with our struggle for survival against the A’s and their drop-dead starters, I decided that I didn’t care which of the two made it to the next round as long as it was the Yanks who were playing them. The resolution of the M’s/Indians decider just didn’t register when I got to the Cathedral Monday. As I endured through the tinderbox of emotions that engulfed us all in the stands that night, my eyes never left the prize. Behind 1-0, then 2-0, then tied 2-2, I concentrated. Then up 3-2 and 4-2, my mind remained Stadium-bound. Concentration almost turned to panic at 4-3, but with Justice came peace, anticipation, excitement and, finally, victory!!!

Still, jumping up and down like a toddler high on candy, wiping tears of joy and hugging both warm friends and almost total strangers, Sue and I hung out above the ramps exiting the Stadium with friends (some classy American had decided to take advantage of the opportunity presented by being enclosed in a tight space with thousands of fellow humans by smoking a cigar), and then tiredly made our way to the car and home, collapsing from the lateness of the hour and the exertion of all that spent emotion.

So now I’m a little better rested, and I’m all smiles because Andy has gotten us off to a great start. Whom do I want to play in the World Series? Dunno. First, of course, come the Mariners. But what I can tell you is that when I gathered all the bravado I had after falling to the A’s Thursday at the Stadium 2-0, and told one and all that I would “see them Monday,” some agreed, some wavered, and some nodded noncommitally. And then there was Peter, who, on being down 0-2 in games and heading out to Oakland, replied, “I’m not worried about these guys. It’s Arizona!” (Note to self: Never play poker with Peter.)

The only mention I gave to our future opponents was in what I said to Sue Tuesday morning when she and the alarm struggled to extract me from the bedclothes:

“Next!”

BTW, TYW
YANKEE BASEBALL!!!