The end of my childhood

According to the BBC, the cut-off point for adulthood could be 25. For me, that’s today.

But in another way, this last week was the end of my childhood.* I grew up watching the New York Yankees during their 1990s dynasty. I don’t remember the Yankees without Derek Jeter, or Andy Pettitte, or Mariano Rivera. One of my most vivid childhood memories was my first Yankees game at the age of eight. I watched Mariano Rivera pitch two scoreless innings in the game that started the dynasty. It’s hard to not love a guy with such composure, consistency, concentration, and class. Anyone with a heart is going to be emotional watching Rivera’s final outing last week. Well, I’m pretty sure I bawled my eyes out. He had one hell of a career, and with that, I think my childhood is over.

Also: Rivera takes the mound for the last time (I lost it the moment I heard the late Bob Sheppard’s voice calmly introducing him), Pettitte completes his last game, and Rivera at the All-Star Game.

* My wife points out that getting married this year also meant the end of my childhood. But she was also the one who sent me the BBC story to troll me, so there’s that.