I lost my best friend. The guy I literally grew up with. The guy I learned how to throw a baseball, fly a kite, catch a fish, ride a bike, capture a flag and hang out with. How could I not attend his celebration of life gathering next Saturday?
It's only a couple thousand air miles away. I can arrange a sub, catch the first boat out, ride the light rail, have an Uber driver waiting and get there a touch late, but at least I'll be able to live with the decision. I owe him AT LEAST that.
I have never met his wife or kids. The last time we saw each other was around 1984. As I mentioned earlier, we were in contact back in August as my brother, also a baseball lifer, being the President of the same Babe Ruth League that produced several kids, polished and ready to the minors and then a few to The Show, including the infielder pictured above, ran into him at a clinic for inner city kids, sponsored by MLB, that provides structure and more importantly a glimmer of hope to at risk youth.
The two of them talked and Robbie asked my brother Chris as to my whereabouts. He is still outside of Seattle. Phone numbers were exchanged and I got a call later that evening with the info.
So I gotta go any pay final respects, because that is what it truly will be. Never have I respected anyone as much as Rob. From the day we met as neighbors in 1955 to a few days ago when I got the sad news, I have wanted to do something, anything, to show my respect and admiration for this incredible man.
So the hell with the inconvenience.
Picture is Rob from the 1982 Milwaukee Brewers, American League Champions.
I am also blogging here now as well. Join us.
No comments:
Post a Comment