The televised pregame ceremonies of an All-Star Game are designed to be sappy and emotional as we celebrate the game's greats from the past and draw the links to today's studs.
And with this being the last year of Yankee Stadium, the House That Ruth Built and George Renovated, the tearjerking has been performance-enhanced.
Line up all those Hall of Famers on the dirt in the Bronx and play all those clips of baseball past at the Stadium. Nice, no doubt, but not the headlining act.
For me, the most emotional moment was George Steinbrenner -- "The Boss" -- being driven to the mound area to hand over the ceremonial baseballs for the first pitch. A metaphorical moment, too.
This is George Steinbrenner. Bigger than life. Louder than life. Almost mythical, to some degree. A man who lived by the sign on his desk, "Lead, follow or get out the way."
We all know he's not in possession of his full health anymore. No one besides his medical staff and family know the true situation.
But on the type of night he cherishes -- big, bold and Bronx in every way -- to witness Steinbrenner not be able to walk on the field under his own power was a mighty sight.
For me, born in 1975 (yeah, I'm kinda old), all I've known is Steinbrenner's Yankees. He earned his nickname "The Boss" and honed it over the years. He's been loud, over the top and boisterous. The argument can made that George Steinbrenner is every bit as big a figure as Babe Ruth, albeit in a different way. In the pantheon of New York sports history, Steinbrenner takes a back seat to very few people, if any.
No doubt he's done some sketchy things as owner of the Yankees, but he's done so much more good than we'll ever know about. He rarely lets his charitable work go noticed. And as a fan, you couldn't ask for a better owner. In an era where every owner in every sport pinches pennies, Steinbrenner goes after a championship every year.
Sure, it doesn't always work, but from a fan's point of view, where you control absolutely nothing about the teams you root for, what else can you possibly ask for from an owner?
I met George once after a game. I was on what baseball media folks call "Steinbrenner Watch." Basically, before the game, you stake out the players entrance. After the game, you find where his car is parked and wait out front of that entrance. All the while, you're just hoping he stops to talk or at least throws out an answer to the question you throw out in the air and hope provokes a response.
I asked what he felt about Kevin Brown's adventurous battle with a concrete wall in the Yankee Stadium clubhouse. He wasn't too happy. In fact, that was his quote. "I'm not happy."
That was Steinbrenner. George, to be precise, as Copy editor friend Henry once told me. "Deferential doesn't work with him. He's just George," Henry told me.
Even though he's ceded control to sons Hank and Hal, George is the true face of the Yankees. There will come a time when The Boss is no longer around, and it will be a sad day. With all the pomp and circumstance surrounding the All-Star Game in the final year of Yankee Stadium, let's not lose sight of The Boss and his impact on the franchise, the city and the sport.