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These are the moments when you see that even the Yankees — the cold, corporate, bottom-line, title-or-bust Yankees — can appreciate the small side-trips along the championship pathway. Over here, Alex Rodriguez, the highest-paid man in baseball history, was shaking a bottle of champagne, mischief on his mind.
Over there, Mariano Rivera, perhaps the most accomplished professional in the room, smiled a serene smile, kept his thumb on top of his bottle of bubbly, a 41-year-old man with eyes still capable of watching with the wonder of a 21-year-old. Over here? That’s Derek Jeter, icon. Over there? CC Sabathia, upon whose massive shoulders the next few weeks will rest.
“This,” Rodriguez said, “is why you play baseball in the first place. To be on a team like this. To be around guys like this. This is why you play.”
On his head was a blue cap officially proclaiming the Yankees 2011 AL East champions, and maybe this morning that title can be re-christened “The First Step.” But last night, in the moments and minutes after Rafael Soriano snuck a sinker past Matt Joyce’s half-swing, sealing this 4-2 Yankees victory and reducing the magic number to zero, they weren’t thinking in the big picture.
They were celebrating the small. Letting the champagne soak their skin, burn their nostrils, only stay away from their eyes because they all wore the goggles that have become as much a part of these celebrations as the shouting.
“It means a lot,” manager Joe Girardi said. “It’s been a long road to get to this point, all the things we went through, a lot of great times and difficult times. The one thing about this group is we’ve been resilient all year.”
And they remain robust and buoyant. They entered the season as consensus underdogs, watched the favored Red Sox stumble out of the starting blocks then soar past them rapidly. Yankees teams are never declared dead in June, but it did seem they were playing for consolation prizes by July.
Only a funny thing happened.
Funny if you’re a Yankees fan. If you’re a Red Sox fan …
“It’s hard not to see the scoreboard,” Girardi said, cackling. “It’s a very big scoreboard.”
The season had been a perfect melding of old and young, of familiar and surprising. Eduardo Nunez replaced Jeter for a few weeks, and old Wally Pipp’s name came charging out of the archives. Out of the time machine stepped Bartolo Colon and Freddy Garcia and Eric Chavez. Into the glare of MVP-level excellence soared Curtis Granderson and Robinson Cano, with David Robertson not far behind.
Out of the mothballs of mythology came a kid, Jesus Montero, who spent a few weeks thrilling Yankees fans with flashes of tomorrow.
Only with the game on the line last night, with the AL East there to be salted away, Girardi decided tomorrow could wait. With the bases loaded and two outs in the eighth, in a 2-2 game, the manager called Montero back and opted for yesterday instead.
And up to the plate stepped Jorge Posada.
His best friend, Jeter, had spent the first half of the year chasing his 3,000th hit, and Posada had been the first one at home plate to greet him after history sailed over the left-field wall on July 9. His wingman, Mariano Rivera, had taken a quieter path to the record book, notching his 602nd save on Monday, and Posada had basked in Rivera’s reflected glory that day, too.
Posada wasn’t so kindly kissed by the fates this year. He likely will not be joining his mates in Cooperstown, probably landing on this side of history’s velvet rope. There remains a strong possibility he won’t even join them on the postseason roster. It’s been that kind of season for Posada.
So it was proper that Posada should stroke an 0-and-1 pitch from Brandon Gomes into right-center field, and it was perfect that Mark Teixeira would be carrying a smile as big as the Grand Concourse across home plate with him. Yes, even the Yankees can appreciate the small moments.
“Wonderful,” Girardi said. “Just wonderful.”
He couldn’t stop smiling. None of them could. This is why you play.
michael.vaccaro@nypost.com