A cold floor in October

     The date was October 28^th, 1981. Ok, I’ll admit I had to look up the actual date on the internet, but I do remember the events of that date. It was game six of the World Series, of the strike shortened 1981 baseball season. The New Your Yankees were playing the Los Angeles Dodgers for the 3^rd time in 5 years. The two teams not only had recent history between them, but as any baseball historian could tell you, a LOT of history between the two clubs, as they have met each other in the Fall Classic a record 11 times. This was to be their last meeting in at least 20 years. (Who knows what the future may bring)

     My Dad grew up cheering for the Bronx Bombers of yesteryear. Names like Rizzuto, Ford, Berra and Mantle. He passed his love for the Yankees on to me. I cheered for names like Jackson, Dent, Nettles, and Gossage. I remember trying to swing the bat like Reggie Jackson and I remember crying when my dad told me that Thurman Munson had been killed. But, I digress. Back to October 28^th.

     I remember lying on the TV room floor watching the game. It became apparent by the middle of the game that the Yankees (down 3 games to 2) were in a lot of trouble. They were down by a lot of runs and things didn’t look good. I didn’t want to watch the Yankees loose. I liked the Yankees, but I don’t know if you would call me a FAN just yet. Anyway, with the game drawing closer and closer to its inevitable conclusion, I pulled the blanket up over my head so I wouldn’t have to “watch” them loose. It was then that I became a fan. My dad got down next to me on the floor and gently pulled the blanket off my head. He said that if I was going to be a true fan, then I needed to learn how to watch them loose and well as win. He said that a true fan stuck with their team through the bad times as well as the good. He stayed there with me and we watched our beloved Yankees loose to their hated rivals. That day the Yankees lost the World Championship, but gained a life long fan. (I’m sure given the choice; they would have picked the former) Not only did my love of the Yankees explode, but my love for the game did as well. I had a shirt during those days that read “I live, love, eat, drink, and sleep Baseball” and I did! I memorized stats, I collected cards, I watched games on TV, and through it all I wore pinstripes on my heart. I cheered for names like Winfield, Baylor, Mattingly, and Sax. I also watched manager after manager get fired (and some re-hired and then re-fired multiple times)

   What my dad taught me that night in 1981 proved to be prophetic and timely as the Yankees wouldn’t grace the stage of another World Series for 15 years, when names like Pettitte, Williams, O’Neill, and a couple of rookies named Rivera and Jeter, would not only bring an American League Pennant, but the World Championship back to the Bronx.

     Through it all, my love for the Yankees has never faltered. I still remember lying on that floor that night. I still remember being at a Yankees/Angels game in California years later and seeing the look on my father’s face as a special award was given that night to Mickey Mantle. And I remember that to this very day, that if we have NOTHING else to discuss, my Dad and I have the New York Yankees. And I have a cold October night in 1981.