[I was going to post this last night, but wasn't getting out of bed to do so. You can't move me from comfy, sometimes.]

I am spoiled. Spoiled rotten. I know this, I revel in this, I am happy for it. Why?

I have gotten to watch Mariano Rivera his entire career.

That’s it. It’s that simple. Having a guy like him to close games for the last 13, 14 years is just a wonderful thing. His silent assassin-like demeanor, his professionalism, his stoicism, his perfect execution, his ability to seemingly not age or gain an ounce in 15 years. Wonderful.

Mo came into the game last night in his usual role. Ninth inning, one run lead, pressure situation. As cool and relaxed as I am sitting here at my desk, Mo did what he seemingly always does. Break bats, induce awkward swings and shake hands with the catcher. He’s so sublimely efficient, it’s easy to overlook him and his contributions.

Someone recently (I can’t remember who, but will try to find the source) asked it this way: Has any employee ever done their job any better for as long a period as Mo has? Not just baseball player, but any “employee” doing their job as perfectly, efficiently and professionally at the highest of levels with the greatest amount of pressure as Mo? Cap’n Jetes gets the headlines and the captainship, but as most Yanks fans will attest, it was having Mo back there in the 9th inning that helped the Yanks secure those four World Series titles (’96, ’98-’00). And if not for the fact that Mo does have his rare human-like moments (’97, ’01), it might have been six straight. But I will never take him for granted. He’s been that good. No, he’s been better than that.

I know I am spoiled and I’m OK with it.

Thanks, Mo.