Mariano Rivera jogged slowly toward the mound. This is what the beginning of the end has looked like in this generation, Rivera’s steady procession toward the mound. The unfazed face, Enter Sandman booming.
Late on a Wednesday night in The Bronx, the Phillies watched the arrival of their executioner, the man who would throw the final pitch of another season. Eight years to day earlier, Rivera had thrown the last pitch of the 2001 season and Luis Gonzalez deposited it beyond a drawn-in Derek Jeter. The Diamondbacks had won a World Series and the Yankees had lost a dynasty.
Now, again on the latest date a baseball season had ever ended, Rivera brought the final offering, his windup as uncomplicated and smooth as ever, jazz from 60 feet, 6 inches. Shane Victorino grounded to second and before Robinson Cano’s throw had even left his hand the Yankee dugout had emptied, players racing toward the culmination of their 2009 mandate and toward their place in the game’s most storied history.
A baton finally had been passed. The 2009 Yankees had joined the club, champion No. 27 in the franchise’s epic history. They are not the greatest, an honor that still is a tussle between the 1927 and 1998 teams. Not the most beloved, falling short of, for example, the 1996-2000 four-time champs that felt more home-grown and organically conceived.
These 2009 Yankees are, instead, most reminiscent of George Steinbrenner’s first champions in 1977-78. Because the Boss’ largesse turned a contender into a two-time titlist with the purchase of first Catfish Hunter and then Reggie Jackson and finally Goose Gossage.
This time around, the Yankees procured the three largest free agents on the market last offseason in Mark Teixeira, CC Sabathia and A.J. Burnett. They served as finishing pieces to a champion and a spark once again to the debate that the Yankees buy their rings.
Of course, the Yankees spent more than any other team from 2001-2008 and, if anything, appeared to be moving progressively further away from winning a title. What stood out this time was that the Yankees got it right, incorporating the proper pieces. And then Joe Girardi and the players found a perfect pitch. This so easily could have turned into Bonfire of the Vanities with the thickness of egos, wallets and stars.
But this group bonded, it liked each other, it found fun where recent vintage Yankee squads found only mounting stress. Girardi had a spring-training pool tournament that unified the group. They did not push Alex Rodriguez away at his lowest moments, but rather surrounded him with support, gave him a key to the inner circle. He responded by flushing his destructive nature to suffocate a clubhouse with cloying needs and rampant insecurity.
Girardi invested belief and unwavering loyalty in a group that became low maintenance and big fun, smashing whipped cream pies and passing around a gaudy championship belt to a daily hero. They still had the all-business glean of the Joe Torre era, just the soundtrack now had some loud hip-hop.
“When this stuff comes together, it is magical,” Cashman said.
And it was magic. The Dynasty Boys of Rivera, Jeter, Andy Pettitte and Jorge Posada remained elite performers, tying this group to the 1996-2000 era. They all got one for the thumb, halfway to Yogi. A-Rod finally was what he was brought here to be, the Babe Ruth of his time, the great slugger snatched away from the Red Sox to bring a title to The Bronx. Sabathia fit into a heritage of Whitey Ford and Red Ruffing, not backing down from the responsibilities of being an ace or three-days’ rest.
Johnny Damon and Hideki Matsui rekindled memories of clutch members of the chorus from Earle Combs to Tommy Henrich to Bobby Richardson.
A long journey that began with those first steps of unity in spring ended again with a pitch from Mariano Rivera. Move over Joe DiMaggio and tell Mickey Mantle the news: There is a new member of the club.
joel.sherman@nypost.com