What an emotional year it has been ... for me, I mean, as a Yankee fan. But my philosophy has always been "never give up, Rose, never give up." And so it is that I have come through the season with my boys, and now it hits me that one of my boys might not be back next year.
Buh-nee. That's what my Konglish-speaking family calls him, all four of us. Appa, Omma, Cheech and I, sitting in the basement with bottles of Heineken and bags of dried squid snacks (this is the Korean-American way, folks), cheering on our team, the boys that have been "our team" since before Cheech and I even existed as twinkles in our parents' eyes. "Buh-nee-yah! Jal-haessuh! Buh-nee-yah!" Bernie, well done, Bernie!
The dude IS the Yankees. Perhaps even more than -- gulp -- Jeter, or Mariano, or Tino. I sort of feel like I grew up with Buh-nee, like he's my older brother. Don't go, dude. Stay. Bring your sore back and your busted knees and your quiet voice and your enigmatic smile back to the team, and just STAY.
Buh-nee-yah!
photo by Chang W. Lee / The New York Times
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