FORT MYERS, Fla. — He is the lion in winter, wheeling into the shabby minor league complex at the dead end of Edison Road every morning before 8. Fifty years after his rookie season, the greatest living Red Sox player doesn’t want to be around the millionaire big leaguers and he doesn’t want to be around baby boomer fans he thrilled all those years ago. He just wants to work with anonymous young hitters, walk around the warning track by himself for an hour, then retreat to an afternoon of fishing or golf.Interesting column by Shank; a lot longer then the usual dreck, on one of the local legends. Very interesting...
Carl Yastrzemski is our New England sports Salinger. Ava Gardner. Sandy Koufax. He just wants to be left alone. He knows you love him and you appreciate those glory days, but truthfully, it probably means more to you than it means to him.
“I’m not much of a conversationalist,’’ says the 71-year-old legend. “I don’t like to reminisce about when I played. I had my day in the sun and it’s over with.’’
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Grumpy Old Men
Shank seems to have found a kindred spirit in Carl Yastrzemski:
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
Wow, basement dwellers, I just took a look at the archive.
Did you know that the only time this blog has gotten more than three comments this entire calendar year was when I chimed in?
Pretentious gasbag I may be, but on this dying "watch" I am clearly the straw that stirs the drink.
I post on grumpy old men, only to have Bruce M. chime in.
Who said irony was dead?
Prediction: On Sunday the CHB will write a column about how the NCAA tournament sucks because no one has heard of any of the players and therefore we shouldn't possibly care about any of it.
Post a Comment