It seems like a hundred years ago, but a shade like yesterday as well.
There is a section of the Bronx, not far from the stadium, known locally as " Arthur Avenue."
It is a treasure of Italian restaurants, bakeries, and butcher shops. For the lazy ( op sit; Alphonso), it is the restaurants that appeal.
I took some close friends to a special restaurant in the neighborhood one saturday night after a day game at the stadium, and Sweet Lou was at the adjoining table with a couple of coaches.
He was wearing a sports coat of "camel hair" color, an open collar shirt and a huge smile.
A volatile but honest and engaging man, and pretty kindly to all the admiring eyes in the joint was sweet Lou. He nodded politely the patrons who immediately recognized him and, of course, signed napkins for any brave children.
Out of respect, we did not approach.
A great Yankee and a great Italian eater, our Sweet Lou.
So long and thanks.
Andiamo.
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3 comments:
I didn't realize you and Sweet Lou were so close.
Once, while driving on the New York State Thruway, I passed a car in which Bert Convey was riding. I didn't approach him, either.
It's the same.
And tell me, again, the Ron Coomer story.
I just have to mention here that even Lou gave up his job to take care of his ailing mother. A guy who actually rips bases out of the ground to throw at umpires, and he quit early for his mom. We are a great generation!
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