I have not followed the game for a very long time. But there were those magic summers with seats in the upper deck, an occasional lucky perch down the third base line, or just some cigarette fogged bar in the south Bronx watching the spectacle unfold on the big heavy box with the disproportionately small screen–in a world where beer only came in one color. And for those rare days when I was out of touch with the drama and theatrics, there was always that inevitable question…How did the Yankees do today?
Wars, economic downturns, natural disasters, political strife and even affairs of the heart could be put on hold…The answer to my question would determine the quality of life.
I remember those boys of my summers past—Martin, Munson, Chambliss, Randolph, Dent, Nettles, White, Rivers, Jackson, Piniella, Guidry, Gullet, Figueroa, Tidrow, Sparky and Catfish.
And I remember the man who made those cherished memories all possible…Many thanks Mr. Steinbrenner!
Posted by: Chris Poh
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