Saturday, October 21, 2017

This is what we are

A lifelong Yankee fan reflects...

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Good read. Thank you. My Dad also was a big Joe D. fan. He's still alive (93) and we talk Yankees everyday.

Doug K.

JM said...

I wrangled three corporate suite tickets to a late 90s Old Timers game from a marginally connected co-worker, and went with my dad a an old friend. Neither are still with us, dad dying a couple years later and my friend 12 years ago from cancer. But that day, I got to be a little bit of a big shot with dad, who thought the free beer and food were great.

We're sitting there watching the old timers come on to the field, and suddenly my dad starts talking about going to the Stadium as a kid with his older brothers. How he saw Gehrig and Ruth and Dickey play, in person.

I'd been a fan for 30 years by then, and he'd been a fan throughout his life, which is why I stared at him with my mouth open. "You saw Ruth and Gehrig play? And you never told me?" "Well," he said, "it was a long time ago."

After the game, we went to Stan's, and my dad fell backwards over the step by an open exit door. He broke his shoulder...which he lived with until my mom hounded into going to the ER a week later...but somehow he didn't spill a drop of his beer.

There's no point to this story. It was a long time ago.

TheWinWarblist said...

TheWinWarblist warbled ...

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TheWinWarblist said...

TheWinWarblist warbled, pantless and screaming ...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggrrrrrrrrRRRRRrrrrggggggggaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anonymous said...

GREAT STORY JOHN M........

LOVE THAT YOUR DAD IS STILL ROOTING FOR THE PINSTRIPES DOUG K......

KEEP GOING WARBLIST......

NOW LETS GET IN THERE AND KICK SOME ASS-TRO....

GO YANKS!

Anonymous said...

Game Called. Across the field of play
the dusk has come, the hour is late.
The fight is done and lost or won,
the player files out through the gate.
The tumult dies, the cheer is hushed,
the stands are bare, the park is still.
But through the night there shines the light,
home beyond the silent hill.

Game Called. Where in the golden light
the bugle rolled the reveille.
The shadows creep where night falls deep,
and taps has called the end of play.
The game is done, the score is in,
the final cheer and jeer have passed.
But in the night, beyond the fight,
the player finds his rest at last.

Game Called. Upon the field of life
the darkness gathers far and wide,
the dream is done, the score is spun
that stands forever in the guide.
Nor victory, nor yet defeat
is chalked against the players name.
But down the roll, the final scroll,
shows only how he played the game.

Grantland Rice

Stang said...

John M, great story.

Urban Farmer formerly known as DutchFan said...

Thanks for the great story John M

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