Last week, the New York Yankees lost two legendary figures – one, in iconic public address announcer Bob Sheppard, the other, in larger-than-life owner George Steinbrenner. In terms of personality, the two couldn’t have been more polar opposites. In terms of impact on arguably the most famous sports franchise in history, their respective losses have shaken the very foundation of the team and its fans.

There were the chairs, neatly lined up in rows on the football field. There were the bleachers, empty and waiting. And could it be? Yes. Yes it could. The soft strains of “Pomp & Circumstance” wafting through the air as the band rehearsed. Graduation time once again.

Can it really be ten years since my own? An entire decade? At times, it seems like only yesterday that I led my own class onto that very same field. Other days, it seems like an eternity ago. So much has changed. And yet, so little. Just another chapter of life closed.  

There are certain people who, no matter when or where you go out to a dining establishment with them, something so bizarrely absurd occurs so as to make it something of a regular “thing.”  

A friend of mine from college and I attempt to get together every month or so for dinner, lunch, or whatever our packed schedules will allow.  Once a month usually turns into once every two or three months by the time we coordinate and reschedule seven or eight times, but the effort is always there, and we have no trouble picking up right where we left off when the planets finally do align.

Traveling into the city with the Ryan Family is always an adventure. It doesn’t matter how we go, how much time we allow or where we’re headed. It’s just always an adventure.

Last week, we made our first trek to the “new” Yankee Stadium. After considering the options, we opted to take the train and subway rather than drive, thereby avoiding all that fabulous rush-hour traffic.

Right.