An instant classic, in every way

Every so often, we are treated to a sports event that transcends its usual sphere of influence, bursting outside the lines to take on a greater meaning. In the span of 24 hours this weekend, we were fortunate enough to see two of them.

The first came Saturday, when Derek Jeter recorded his 3,000th hit with, of all things, a home run at Yankee Stadium. And just when we thought The Captain was hoarding all the drama to himself, along came Sunday, with the U.S. women's soccer team's last-gasp comeback and eventual victory over Brazil on penalty kicks in a World Cup quarterfinal game.

We're not going to go down the potholed road of, "maybe THIS will put soccer on the map in the United States," or fly a Title IX flag -- or Brandi Chastain's sports bra -- from the mountaintop and proclaim yet another short-lived victory for women's sports. This isn't about any of that.

What this is about is a celebration of why we love sports, and for those of us lucky enough to do it for a living, it means that much more. Fact is, you didn't have to be a soccer fan -- hell, you didn't even have to be a sports fan at all -- to appreciate the careening emotions, tension and twists and turns, all packed into one game. It absolutely had everything.

This wasn't just about sports. This was about life. There was fleeting success, stolen away and replaced with failure. There was adversity, there was determination, there was redemption, there was an unexpected plot twist, a climax and a denouement. You couldn't have gotten Martin Scorsese or Ron Howard to write a better script.

This game so intrigued me, had I witnessed it in person, it would probably have overtaken some stiff competition to become the best live sporting event I've ever seen. My top two on that list are the Robin Ventura "grand-slam-single" game between the Mets and the Braves in Game 5 of the 1999 NLCS at Shea Stadium, and Michael Jordan's 55-point game against the Knicks in his first game back at Madison Square Garden in 1995 following his brief retirement.

Even if Hope Solo, Abby Wambach and the rest of the U.S. team don't win another game in this tournament -- or their lives, even -- what they accomplished on Sunday secured them a place on the short list of instant sports classics of our time. This is one that will last a lifetime -- an achievement that will never be taken away from them, will never be forgotten.

"It's like a storybook," Wambach said.

Except it really happened.

Derek Jeter from a Mets fan's view

By now, you've probably read all the accolades, all the praise and all the celebration that came pouring down yesterday, not only from the highest seats at Yankee Stadium but from all corners of the sports world after Derek Jeter became the 28th player in big-league history to enter the 3,000-hit club.

You know he became the first Yankee to make the list, the first to do it as a full-time shortstop, only the second to do it with a home run and the fifth-fastest to reach the coveted milestone. That his historic hit was part of a 5-for-5 day that, by the way, included the winning hit that lifted the Yankees to victory over the division-rival Rays, was a sidebar on this day.

Always a model of class and playing the game "the right way," Jeter is one of those rare people who "you never hear anything bad about." (You can discount the hissy fit from the Yankees before the season, when negotiating Jeter's contract extension; that was just negotiation posturing).

Even from this corner, from someone who's a Mets fan, I've always marveled at his consistency and professionalism, perhaps never as much as Saturday.

There have been many Subway Series games watched from my desk at the New York Post, and for the contingent of us who are Queens-leaning, it always seemed whenever the Mets needed a crucial out to escape a jam, more often than not, No. 2 would be walking to the plate.

"Not THIS guy again," one of us would exclaim. And more often than not, it seemed, Jeter would come through. So it was only mildly surprising, when reading down the list of Jeter's 3,000 hits by Stadium, 49 of them came with the Mets as the home team -- 44 at Shea Stadium, and five at Citi Field -- places where Jeter only played three games a season.

In fact, before Jeter's recent visit to the disabled list, it had been a foregone conclusion to many of us that Jeter's 3,000th hit would come at Citi Field. How could it not?

It's in my DNA not to love the Yankees. Granted, not with the vitriol of Red Sox Nation, and there have been a few pinstripes who I've ardently rooted against. Roger Clemens and Alex Rodriguez are two that come quickly to mind. But when watching Jeter, there comes the perspective that you know you're watching one of the greatest and classiest players to put on a uniform, and especially as time goes on, you relish and appreciate every play, every act, every second. I've had similar feelings watching Lawrence Taylor and Brett Favre; Jeter, of course, comes without the off-field baggage Taylor and Favre lug around.

And when you're witnessing such a dramatic moment that tames the hearts and minds of the most cynical among us, then that's saying something.

Jeter can do it perhaps better than anyone else. And did it again Saturday.

For Posada, this can only end badly

The events of Saturday night at Yankee Stadium have been dissected, analyzed, torn apart and rebuilt again, and that was before the final out of the Yankees' 6-0 loss to the Red Sox, the middle of a three-game sweep that led to a fair amount of preening in Kenmore Square and pouting on the 4 train in the Bronx.

We've heard different versions and details, from tweaked backs and lineup cards to tweets from Posada's wife, who felt the need to defend her man after Posada and his .165 batting average were only deemed worthy of the No. 9 spot in the batting order by Yankees manager Joe Girardi. That led to what Jack Curry, a respected New York sports reporter on the YES Network, called a "hissy fit" and Posada asking out of the lineup, much to the consternation of GM Brian Cashman and the bewilderment of Girardi, who when pressed afterward said Posada asked him for "a mental day" to "clear his head."

The journey in time back to the Bronx Zoo era seemingly ended Sunday evening, when Posada apologized for his actions, admitting it was his ego, and not his back, that was bruised.

"It's just one of those days that you wish you could have back," Posada said.

Why someone making $13.1 million for playing a game needs a mental day is another issue entirely, but all seemed forgiven. The "Bleacher Creatures" honored Posada in their nightly "roll call," and Girardi was satisfied. "This has been a great player for a long time," he said.

Fair enough. Posada's eventual plaque in Monument Park will include nothing of this incident, and it will do nothing to tarnish his legacy as a "great Yankee."

But it is reason to take pause, as a more nefarious opponent is lurking to stick voodoo pins between the pinstripes -- time.

Posada is the first member of the Yankees' esteemed "Core Four" to careen down the slide that eventually claims every athlete of a certain age. Some handle it more gracefully and adroitly than others. For every Sandy Koufax and Jim Brown, legends who retired at the top of his game, there is a Willie Mays and Brett Favre, who stubbornly live in denial of their declining skills and play on.

Andy Pettitte went out on his own terms and Mariano Rivera is still Mariano Rivera. It can be argued that Derek Jeter has already arrived at the playground, climbed the ladder and is staring stoically down the slide in the only direction he can go -- down -- but he remains an icon in the Bronx and will soon become only the 11th player in major league history to amass 3,000 hits with the same team.

Jeter has not been dropped to the No. 9 position in the batting order, a spot traditionally reserved for pitchers, as Posada was. His off-season contract negotiations were contentious, but he was not "disrespected" while in uniform, which Posada claimed he was Saturday. Jeter has not been moved to full-time DH duties, as Posada was this season. And Jeter was not forced to face a sea of microphones and tape recorders to apologize, as Posada was Sunday.

Posada enjoyed one of his finest seasons in 2007 (20 homers, 90 RBIs, .338 BA), the last of an eight-year run in which he played no less than 137 games in each season. But since suffering an injury to his right (throwing) shoulder in 2008, Posada's decline has accelerated:

2009: 111 games, 22 HR, 81 RBI, .285 BA.

2010: 120 games, 18 HR, 57 RBI, .248 BA.

2011: 33 games, 6 HR, 15 RBI, .165 BA.

Even more telling are the games Posada spent at catcher, DH and first base:

2009: catcher 100, DH 9, first base 2.

2010: catcher 83, DH 30, first base 1.

2011: DH 32.

The bottom line is that this will only get uglier for Jorge Posada. The proud Yankee may have said, "I'm sorry," but there can be no apologies that will soothe what lies ahead, for the specter of time forgives no one.