We all knew it would eventually happen, but that doesn’t make it any less sad.  Even worse it was the one baseball cathedral I never got a chance to go to and now I never will.  Yankee Stadium, the most important American sports stadium said goodbye last night. Though I’m happy the Yankees won’t be in the postseason as a Sawx fan, as a baseball lunatic there is a large part of me that thinks there is something wrong with a world in which Yankee Stadium no longer exists.

Sure it’ll exist next year in a fancy $1.5 billion dollar affair, but it won’t be the stadium where Ruth hit homeruns and Lou Gehrig played every game until he no longer could, where during the mid-nineties it seemed like every Yankee pitcher could throw perfect games and no-hitters.

The Yankees opened the gates seven hours early, allowing fans to stroll the warning track for one last walk in the park. Closer to game time, the team unveiled the American League championship flag that was raised on the first opening day, in 1923.

Bob Sheppard recorded an introduction, promising to be there to christen the new Yankee Stadium next April 16. A team of stand-ins, dressed in old-time uniforms, processed into center field, representing some of the late Yankees legends. They might as well have come in from the cornfields; the “Field of Dreams” overtone was palpable.

One by one, the living greats took their positions, all to heartfelt cheers. The children of other standouts — Randy Maris, Michael Munson, David Mantle and others — took their fathers’ places.

Willie Randolph slid into his position, second base, and rubbed dirt on his jersey, reveling in his return to the Yankees. Whitey Ford pretended to lift out the pitcher’s rubber. The fans reprised chants that rang through the walls years ago — “Bob-by Mur-cer!” “Ti-no! Ti-no!” and so on.

Many of the stars not there were shown on the video board in right-center field — Rickey Henderson and Chuck Knoblauch, Sparky Lyle and Orlando Hernández. No mention of Roger Clemens.

The bench was so stuffed that some of the Yankees sat on the dugout roof to watch. Jorge Posada stood on the field, taking photos with a digital camera, just another fan with rich memories of a stadium that always seemed to give his team an edge.

[Yankee Stadium Receives Long Ovation After 85-Year Run]

Not quit. We’ll miss ya big guy, you will always be that lovable stoner out in left field to us, who could hit like a ballet dancer but held up minor league games to look for diamond earrings.

Sadly, the Sox might have been better off trading for Favre.

Anyone watch MLB’s marathon five-hour All Star Game last night? It was a good time - got to say goodbye to Yankee Stadium, look around for Madonna, remember how much Joe Buck and Tim McCarver suck as announcers and forget about Sheryl Crow’s performance of “The Star Spangled Banner.”

Now, it wasn’t her singing that was bad, that was actually okay. No it was her use guitar, which sounded lost in the acoustics of The House that Ruth Built. Seriously. It was like she was tuning her guitar or not even playing, so you have to wonder what was the point. Still, those white pants and American-flag T-shirt were purdy. [via]

No-hitters are not uncommon in baseball. In any given season you maybe get two, possibly three. It’s not like the no-hitter is a perfect game (17 since MLB has been keeping stats) or the unassisted triple play (the rarest of feats with only 14 accomplished since records have been kept), but when you are a Cancer-survivor, only a year removed from treatment, it is something beyond special.

It is a benchmark, like Lance Armstrong or Mario Lemieux before him, that Jon Lester has set; not just for other pitchers but for Cancer survivors and those going through treatment everywhere. Last night Jon Lester told the world that yes, anything is indeed possible. Cancer is not necessarily an end.

In a baseball season quickly becoming remembered for the illicit actions of past players like the detestable Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, it is moments like last night that remind us why we love baseball.

And Lester? He’s looked like a 24-year-old former wunderkind in the middle of a learning curve. He’s physically stronger now that he’s further removed from cancer treatments, and he has added a changeup to complement his fastball, curveball and cutter. But he entered the game with a 2-2 record, a 3.95 ERA and 33 strikeouts and 29 walks.

Center fielder Jacoby Ellsbury’s diving catch on Guillen’s blooper in the fourth will be remembered as the no-hit saver in much the same way Dustin Pedroia’s spectacular defense preserved Buchholz’s no-hitter against Baltimore in September. But it was impossible to overlook the contribution of catcher Jason Varitek, who did the usual mind-meld with his pitcher on the way to catching his fourth career no-hitter. “Every pitcher has complete trust in what he calls,” Farrell said when reached by phone Monday night, “and that allows guys to relax so that their best stuff comes out.”

Catcher Jason Varitek has now caught four no-hitters by four different pitchers, which is, I believe a record.  But the story of the night is the Red Sox pitcher.  He may never be a Cy Young Award winner (so often those who throw no-hitters seem to not be Cy Young Award winners and vice versa [remember Nolan Ryan, he of seven no-hitters never won the Cy Young Award!?!]) but Lester will slot in nicely to the middle of the rotation for years to come.  Very good and reliable third and fourth starters are what helps build championships.

When the game ended, the no-hitter no longer in doubt, manager Terry Francona came onto the field and hugged the pitcher like a dad would his son.  Hugging the breath right out of him.  Lester shared the essence of their conversation in an on-field TV interview.

“He said he was proud of me,” Lester said. “We’ve been through a lot the last couple of years, and he’s been like a second dad to me. It’s just a special moment right there.”

Photo credit: (Jim Davis/Boston Globe)