Parramatta Yankee: The sun sets on an old friend.

Packed away in the attic above my mom's garage in Tennessee is a photo of me sitting in a front row box seat of original Yankee Stadium. It's 1972, the Yankees are terrible, but a silly smile occupies the bit of face visible beneath my ill-fitting Yankees cap. I'm in baseball's cathedral, beside soil consecrated by Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle. I was raised Catholic, but this is my Holy Land.

Following the Stadium's restoration during the 1974 & 75 seasons (when my dad took Kevin and I to see them play in Queens at Shea Stadium) and a simultaneous return to glory, I became friends with a fellow Bombers fan named Jeff Stefanick. He and I set out on many a Bronx-based adventure from our North Jersey homes over the years. With the current Stadium set to close at the season's conclusion on Sunday -- a new Yankee Stadium is being built and will be the team's home beginning next season -- Jeff attended one of the final games this week. He took the photo above, and sent me a lovely email. Here's an excerpt:

You were there, at least in my mind, as I scanned the sections, remembered bus rides via the Port Authority, subway rides cramped and smelly, 'Big John' Mayberry buying some ribs, Eddie Layton 'entertaining' us during a rain delay in the Summer of ’82, Reggie Jax going deep on the guy nicknamed Gator on 4/26/82 as a conquering hero, laughing at the dearth of talent as we sat close to the field in Sept 1990, watching guys named Leytiz and Velarde -- wondering why they were in the major leagues, a special night called the 2001 World Series Game 5 when a fellow named Scott Brosious decided NYC was not done for that night, and finally, sprinting up the steps of an escalator in the Port Authority in '82, just in time to make the 1am bus, sparing us the ignomity of having to call your father to come get us!

I would add: Feeling the stadium shake from our perch way, way up in the upper deck when Don Mattingly was introduced in his long overdue playoff debut in 1995. And the time we went bowling in between games of a doubleheader at a classic South Bronx establishment behind a bar on 161st Street.

You're right, my brother. I was sitting up there with you, smelling the fragrant Bronx air, sipping overpriced beer, listening to Bob Sheppard's multi-generational baritone, absorbing the majesty of a place that's brought us both tears of joy and sorrow across the decades. I've been blessed to have had a Yankees compadre like you since we met in Mr Andico's class at Brooklawn junior high school in 1979. It's sad to think I won't see the Stadium as we've known it all these years again, but feel better knowing we'll walk into the new Yankee Stadium together someday.