Asylum
Got some chocolate-chip cookies here
Murcer.
So don't ask me any questions
For a batter or so.
All right?
Phil Rizzuto
June 17, 1992
New York at Boston
Roger Clemens pitching to Mel Hall
Sixth inning, two outs, bases empty
Red Sox lead 2-1
He was never what he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be the next Mickey. That's how it went. It was Ruth to Dimaggio to Mantle and then to Bobby Murcer. Everybody said it. Everybody could see it. And so whatever he did, it was never enough. Never. Because he was not what he was supposed to be.
Maybe we grew up after he was traded to San Francisco for Bobby Bonds. A friend of mine on the West Coast worked in the laundry that cleaned the Giants uniforms. He stole the jersey that said "MURCER" on the back. I'll never forget the day I saw that jersey. That was the day I realized what we had given up.
Murcer carried us through lean years. When he came back, near the end of his career, the Yanks were an entirely different organization. They'd once been a big dynasty machine, so efficient that it seemed certain that Mickey would be replaced by another Mickey. When Murcer came back to us -- bunting for hits, working walks and slapping singles -- we saw a player giving everything he had to an organization that had traded him. He was the guy who rallied us after Thurman Munson's death. He was the guy who drew the loudest cheers. We'd had Ruth, Dimaggio and Mantle.
None of them was a Bobby Murcer.
My favorite Murcer story is one he would tell about himself. He'd be playing left field at Fenway, and the fans would yell horrible things. Nonstop abuse. One guy was the absolute loudest, meanest and worst, yelling insults that made Murcer cringe. Of course, Murcer would agree with the guy now and then. And sure enough, Murcer ended up getting to know him. The guy invited him for dinner. They became great friends.
Can you imagine that?
He just smiled, nodded, laughed... and he won the guy over.
Same way with us.
Chocolate-chip cookies. I hope he's enjoying them tonight.
Hey John. I know it hurts but I wanted to say that I'm sorry for your loss. I don't have the best memory but I think that you two were good friends because you were both announcers. Sorry for your loss buddy.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sean. That means a lot, buddy.
ReplyDelete