Rieber: This is the way baseball seasons are supposed to end
Other Columnists
It began about 10:45 a.m. on Broadway and Battery Place, when Yankees executives on float No. 1 unveiled the World Series trophy. They sat it down like an expensive hood ornament for the trip up the Canyon of Heroes.
For screaming Yankees fans lining Bowling Green Plaza, it was the first moment to let loose with the pent-up emotion of eight long championship-less years. Some of the younger children in the crowd, perched on the back of a parent's craning neck, had lived their entire lives without seeing a Yankees World Series parade!
As Derek Jeter later said without any sense of irony, "It's been too long, hasn't it?"
For some franchises, two parades in a decade would be plenty. For the Yankees, going from 2001-2008 without one is a near travesty.
And that's the way it should be. The Yankees are the Yankees. New York is New York. If you can't make it here, hit the road, pal.
When you spend the most money - $423.5 million on three free-agent players last offseason, more than $200 million for your season's payroll, $32 million on your third baseman alone - you'd better win at least as often as pauper franchises in tiny cities like Philadelphia or Boston or St. Louis (the last three World Series winners before the Yankees restored order Wednesday).
The World Series trophy's appearance shortly before the parade's scheduled start time of 11 a.m. also set off the first instance of paper - not ticker tape, shredded paper - falling from the buildings. It was the first time Friday that a chant of "Let's Go Yankees" rang out that could be heard by someone associated with the newly minted world champions.
Joe Girardi, a championship player turned championship manager turned savior of stranded motorists everywhere, emerged to cheers. Reserve Eric Hinske jumped to the front of the float and had a big laugh when no one knew who he was.
Hinske had stepped into a moment meant for World Series MVP Hideki Matsui, who ascended to chants of "MVP! MVP!" Matsui lifted his arms in the air and clenched his fists.
Was it Matsui's last act as a Yankee? This is New York, Godzilla. Can you help the Yankees win next year? Probably not with those creaky knees. So long, and thanks for the memories.
At 11:05, float No. 1 started up Broadway. Rudy Giuliani, Yankee Stadium's Mayor for Life, followed in a convertible.
As Department of Transportation news media truck No. 4 - the one I was on to chronicle the day's events for Newsday - turned the corner from Battery Place onto Broadway, cries of "There he is! Is that him?" could be heard.
Who was it they saw? Jeter? A-Rod? Sabathia? Ramiro Peña?
No, it was rap star Jay-Z.
Has Sinatra's "New York, New York" been replaced by Jay-Z's "Empire State of Mind" as the designated Yankees anthem? It has been for some in the younger set who wouldn't know Sinatra from Nick Swisher.
Jay-Z hopped on float No. 4 with rookie catcher Francisco Cervelli and the $32-million third baseman.
That's right. Alex Rodriguez had passed through the crowd and onto the float virtually unnoticed.
A-Rod, now and forever a champion, wore a black and gray fedora, sunglasses, black gloves, a Yankees jacket. He waved like a king. He was cheered like one. It didn't stop until well after float No. 4 dropped off its famous passengers at City Hall for the official ceremony.
"I've been waiting a long time for this," A-Rod said later.
He's not the only one. So have Yankees fans. They're not kidding about that. They're New Yorkers.
