The last game ever played at Yankee Stadium took place on Sunday. As a native New Yorker and… The last game ever played at Yankee Stadium took place on Sunday. As a native New Yorker and lifelong Yankee fan, I feel as though I have to eulogize the stadium a little bit, because clearly not enough has been made of the event. I apologize for the self-indulgence that is to come, as I attempt to pour out a $6.50 commemorative cup of soda in Yankee Stadium’s honor, but I just have to do it. The reason Yankee Stadium is getting this big send-off is of course because of its history. It’s where Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle played. It’s where Jackie Robinson and Willie Mays visited as opposing players. But then again, it’s not. The Stadium was built in 1923, but underwent some serious renovation in 1974-75 and reopened in ’76. It’s the same body skeleton, but looks much different, kind of like a woman who had a lot of plastic surgery and would have a show on ‘E!’ So it’s not quite where Gehrig gave his famous ‘Luckiest Man’ speech or where Don Larsen pitched the only perfect game in World Series history. But it is where Reggie Jackson hit three home runs in Game 6 of the 1977 World Series. It’s where the Red Sox capped the greatest comeback in sports history by winning Game 7 of the 2004 American League Championship Series after trailing 3-0 in the best-of-seven series. And while those moments are great, excluding that last one, they aren’t why I’ll personally miss Yankee Stadium. No, I’ll miss Baseball’s Cathedral, as it’s referred to, because of all I’ve learned in my years going to Yankee games, which is possibly more than I’ve learned in another certain cathedral. I learned that sometimes it’s OK to skip school if there’s a good reason. On April 11, 1997, my family and I had one as we braved the cold, collectively missing work and school, to see the Yankees’ home opener against the Oakland A’s. All I remember is they lost, and Mark McGwire demolished a pitch by Mariano Rivera into the black seats in dead center field. I learned how to properly keep score of a baseball game and, consequently, how little I enjoy keeping score while trying to watch baseball games. I learned that it is true that money can buy happiness, just as long as the money is spent on the right free agents. A friend’s father taught us that if you start chanting around drunken people, there’s a good chance they’ll chant along. He demonstrated by starting a ‘Seattle sucks’ chant late in a game against the Mariners, even though they were winning by double-digits. Sure enough, three drunken men behind us joined in and kept the chant going for the next couple of minutes. Besides the lessons, I’ve seen monumental moments in a person’s life occur at the stadium. My brother lost his first tooth at a Yankee game and earned congratulations from the majority of our section. I’ve even seen new lives start. At a game a few years ago, when a wedding proposal popped up on the big screen, many people in my section customarily yelled, ‘No, don’t do it!’ only to grow embarrassed when they noticed the now engaged couple was sitting in that same section. They made up for it with a standing ovation, though. And I’ve seen lives nearly end. On a camp trip one summer, we were filing out of the upper deck. We occupied a few rows, and a person in the row behind mine was joking around with his friend, who happened to be right in front of me. The kid in the back row pushed his friend, sending him tumbling over our row. He continued rolling over the tops of seats as we stood there wondering if he would just keep tumbling until he fell over and most likely died. Well, I was wondering that. He didn’t. He rolled about six rows and stopped. My last trip to Yankee Stadium came on Aug. 17 this year. The Yankees defeated the Royals, 15-6. I remember not wanting to leave and just not being able to. Of course, like any Yankee game, that was mostly because of the sticky floor and post-game congestion as everyone tries to leave at once, but they shut down certain walkways to make sure everyone leaves from the same few exits. I like to think it was also partly because of how I felt about the place. I’ve been to a few other ballparks, but none compare. I’ve seen the beautiful Camden Yards and been brought to tears at Fenway Park after a roughly 10-year-old me wore a Yankee hat on a tour of the stadium and was insulted by Red Sox fans more than twice my age. There are nicer looking stadiums and stadiums in better neighborhoods. But they still don’t compare to the history. The new Yankee Stadium won’t compare, either. They can move all the monuments and retired numbers and put up ‘Yankee Stadium’ in huge, blue lettering on the building. But it won’t matter. There’s no way it will be the same. I mean, it’ll take at least a few years for the new stadium to even get close to the smell of the current one. And even more so than that, it won’t be the same stadium where I learned to love baseball.