Veteran of the Game

My soon to be ninety-eight-year-old uncle, my late father’s twin brother was the “Veteran of the Game” last night at Yankee Stadium.

It was the culmination of a five-year effort 

that began with a letter written to Joe Girardi by a family friend. 

He thought it would be great if the Yankees honored both my Uncle Dick and my father, both Army Air Corps WW2 vets who flew in the European Theater. 

Both Bronx guys. 

They grew up in Hunts Point. Starting backcourt for Monroe HS. Both played freshman ball for NYU. 

My uncle played varsity and put NYU into the finals of the NIT with a buzzer beater against Texas back when the NIT was THE national basketball tournament.

The two of them stayed together through basic training, gunnery school, and were stationed together. They never really spoke a lot about what their experiences were like during their bombing runs. About what it must have felt like at eighteen to head into a box of flying shrapnel to get the job done.

One day my uncle let it slip that he kept a diary, and I asked him what he wrote about, and he said, “Oh like how I felt when your dad didn’t come home from his mission.” Apparently, he was shot down. First I’d heard about it.  

If you asked them about the war, they talked about playing basketball on the base teams.

After the war they both became educators. My Pop at Theodore Roosevelt HS on Fordham Road and my uncle at DeWitt Clinton and later becoming a Professor and a Dean at Bronx Community College. 

Bronx guys.

Before any meaningful action could be taken my dad passed away. Uncle Dick is still going strong.  And, last night, he was the "Veteran of The Game."

Just as a side note: This column isn’t turning out anything like what I thought I would it would. Generally, as you know, I’m looking for the humor. Talking to one of the remaining beer vendors who had been there since 1971 and may or may not have sold me a loose joint in the upper deck in the mid-seventies. Realizing that my uncle at 97 was still faster than Giancarlo Stanton. That sort of thing. 

But, I have to tell you I was so moved and so grateful to the Yankee Organization for honoring veterans in general and my uncle in specific and for giving them what was an absolutely wonderful experience...

Let me put it this way, we can rip on Hal all we want, and deservedly so, but the Yankees do not have to do this and let me tell you, they do it well. With class and dignity, and most importantly, with sincerity.

So here is some of what I saw and experienced...

Uncle Dick’s favorite player was Lou Gehrig and that’s whose t-shirt he had on when he arrived.

The night turned into a family reunion. His grandchildren came in from Wisconsin, his daughters and their husbands from North Carolina, A Nephew from Massachusetts, me, a de facto daughter from Ireland...  All of us there to honor this man and, not coincidentally, all Yankee fans.

Representatives from the Yankees came by a number of times to make sure everything was going well and give him various gifts and commemoratives, such as a special Yankee coin made just for the veterans, the best one however was…

In the bottom of the sixth it was time to head to the field.

When he first found out that he was going to be Veteran of the Game Uncle Dick asked me if I would go out on the field with him to stand in place of my dad. He really wanted it to be the two of them out there together. As it should have been. It was an honor.

Our guide, a man who asked my uncle about his service with genuine interest and appreciation, took us in an elevator and then down through parts of the stadium that were way above my pay grade. 

We went past stockbrokers and trust fund babies drinking and eating at a seriously appointed bar, oblivious to the fact that Cole was still pitching a no-hitter at the time and was dealing about as well as I’ve ever seen a pitcher deal. Half the screens in the bar were following the Giant game. It was still close at that point but not for long. The only blemish on a perfect night.  

We were seated behind home plate on the visitor’s dugout side while the Blue Jays went down in the top of the seventh.

Then it was time…

While I wasn’t able to, and should not have been, out on main part the filed during God Bless America (The Robert Merrill Version!) I did get to stand on the field but off to the side and sadly, off camera because I had my “Unwavering” Mini-Sign held against the bill of my cap. You’ll just have to take my word for it.

Watching Uncle Dick soak, it all in, his face on the Jumbotron, the support of the crowd, all of it… thinking about him, about my dad, about all the WW Two Veterans… Just grateful. Awed really.

Despite that moment, heading back to the seat might have been the best part. Uncle Dick was now “The Veteran of the Game’ and people kept coming up to him to say hello and thank him for his service. Genuinely thank him. Kids too. 

Just a massive show of respect and appreciation. It was wonderful. Truly wonderful.

The ninth inning went on a little longer than it should have. Gleyberrrrrrr! But, after the final out my whole family joined Sinatra in singing “New York. New York". And we all meant it. We were home.

All of us... Bronx guys.