My experiences are like many others. From my first game when I was five until now at twenty seven, the experience is much the same.

We come over the George Washington bridge with anticipation. A few more minutes is all it will take. As we come up to an intersection, I see holy ground in front of us on the left. There in huge letters is a cathedral. Yankee Stadium is how the letters read. The experience of seeing the stadium itself sends chllls down my spine and is an awe inspiring sight.

We find a parking spot close by and as we walk closer to the Stadium it grows larger and larger. We go through the ticket gate and the smell of hot dogs, beer and cigars from decades ago fills the air as it must be absorbed into the cement and is a part of the atmosphere of the Stadium.

The best part is walking past the tunnels to the field to our seats and seeing glimpses of the bright green of the grass and the sounds of the organ playing.

We find our section and walk through the tunnel and the darkness becomes extremely bright. I am truly walking into heaven. The field is so well manicured and the grass is cut so fine. The dirt and clay looks as soft as a mattress and the bases are ever so white. Then it happens. The voice of God speaks announcing the players names. Bob Shepard has been announcing baseball games since my grandfather first went to a game at the Stadium and my father went to games at the Stadium. This glorious voice lets you know that you are home and God has a seat just for you.

The players take the field and the uniforms are so bright. They look so large and graceful as they glide across the field.

It is time for a hot dog and the taste is so unique. Though they can be purchased at the local food store they have a unique flavor at the Stadium which makes them a delicasy of their own.

The Yankees are up and a pitch whizzes in. The crack of the bat echoes the halls of the Stadium and for no reason we stand to our feet to watch the ball carry over the wall. The most boisterous noise fills the air as the crowd cheers for the home run. The energy is electrifying and could power a city for weeks.

Alas the cathedral in which was built to seat fans to watch the Great Bambino has seen her final days. A man who's ego could no longer fit in that great building needed to build one in which it could barely squeeze in. The house that Steinbrenner built will begin a new era of Yankee baseball. The days of watching in awe knowing that the likes of Babe Ruth, Joe Dimaggio, Mickey Mantle, Lou Gehrig and so many others played on that exact field in that exact spot will be gone and an memory. 26 World Series Championships will be remembered in history but no longer can we experience the cathedral in which they were won.

I feel like a close member of my family is passing and should rejoice for all the times great which were had but will shed a tear for myself and others who's childhood will live on in the ghost cathedral that Ruth built.