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Mudcatsfan
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- Aug 7, 2008
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Back in March of 1988 i was but a wee tyke. My dad was a G.I. doc who agreed to see a patient of one of his colleagues who was unavailable. Turns out it was none other than Mr. George Steinbrenner.
We lived in Ft. Lauderdale, and in that day, the Yankees called Ft. Lauderdale Yankee stadium home. After the visit, Mr. Steinbrenner asked my father if we were attending the game that night, and he said actually we were. Mr. Steinbrenner then offered his box seats as he wouldn't be able to attend. Now anyone who's been to a spring training game (especially in an old park like Ft. Lauderdale) knows there are no BAD seats, but the owner's box seats, next to the dugout??? Pretty dang sweet.
Then Mr. Stein offered something that i struggle with to this day. He asked if my father had a kid who'd like to be bat boy for the night. Now, I've grown up as an adult who hates the way the Yankees do business. I can't root against Giambi, and Damon, and Wade Boggs, and Teixeirra, and Randy Johnson, and FREAKING ROGER CLEMENS, etc, etc, etc, for years and then try to love them when they put on pinstripes. Once i was presented with an alternative home town team, (the 1993 Marlins) i felt my loyalties switching. The final transformation happened in 2003 when i had to pick sides in the World Series. I attended the game where hated Red Sox pitcher Roger Clemens was making his career finale (hahaha, liar) for the yankees in the world series. He busted 20 year old Miguel Cabrera with a high inside fastball. Miggy dusted himself off and hit the next outside fastball into the seats in right field. My allegiances were officially set. How can you root for Goliath when you have your own David?
Yet when i look back on moments like this spring game in 1988, how can i dislike a team that offered such a joyous moment? Parts of me will always have a soft spot for the Yankees as long as they're actual Yankees. Not imports, or mercenaries, or former Red Sox.
Back to the story. As you can imagine, as a 10 year old, this was kind of a big deal. I headed straight to the local card store "Neil Z's" to see if he had any new (1988) yankees cards. I already had a couple 1988 donruss, and topps, but he had a WHOLE TEAM SET of 88 Fleer. They looked awesome to me at the time, and my Mom let me get them. Along with my other yankees cards, Now i was set. As it turned out i was one of three batboys that night, so i got every 3rd inning. I got to the game about 2 hours early, and got my very own yankee uniform. I was a small kid, but apparently had a big head. The bat boy uniform hat was too small for my head so i ended up with a real yankee hat.
The game was a bit of a blur, but i do remember Jay Buhner hitting a Home run and getting to run out and retrieve his bat for him.
I met Don Mattingly, Dave Winfield, Rickey Henderson, Willie Randolph, Dave Righetti, and some older guys i didn't really know yet.
I got Rags autograph on a ball along with manager Billy Martin. I was happy when Martin signed the ball, as I knew him, Rags then gave the ball to another coach who i didn't recognize at all. Hey Kid, you should let him sign too. I reluctantly and suspiciously handed the ball to an old man who didn't look much like to me. I'm glad Righetti was right. Apparently Whitey Ford was a spring time special coach that year. Its a pretty unique item, who else would have those three guys on a ball?
Mattingly I remember was on the trainers table getting his back worked on, and i patiently waited for him to sign my cards. I had a 50 count plastic case with ALL my yankees cards in them, and he looked at me asking, "Do i have to sign ALL of those???" I laughed and said, "no, I wish, i only have a couple of you" and he smiled and signed TWO of them and a baseball.
Dave Winfield who is about 17 feet tall when you're ten years old had a bat in his hand as i approached. He took what seemed like a full cut and stopped the bat inches from my face. I remember him having a huge smile after causing me to nearly ruin my new uniform He then introduced himself and signed my card. Very cool.
Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, Rickey Henderson really is a jerk, even to polite little kids. Rickey told me he was "busy, get lost" so i said ok, thanks. I asked again at the end of the game and he sighed and grabbed a ball to sign. He made a big deal about it like it was actually hurting him, wouldnt' talk to me, and wouldn't even look at me. I was brought up with manners in a very strict household, so i'm sure i wasn't being rude or impatient. He's just a jerk.
It was interesting how 10-15 other players were amazingly nice and friendly but Rickey was already just being Rickey. Oh well.
All in all, i still can't believe how awesome that day was, and how it keeps a softspot in my heart when i think about it. I recently found these cards and it brought back all those memories. I hope everyone else has a "when i fell in love with baseball" story.
We lived in Ft. Lauderdale, and in that day, the Yankees called Ft. Lauderdale Yankee stadium home. After the visit, Mr. Steinbrenner asked my father if we were attending the game that night, and he said actually we were. Mr. Steinbrenner then offered his box seats as he wouldn't be able to attend. Now anyone who's been to a spring training game (especially in an old park like Ft. Lauderdale) knows there are no BAD seats, but the owner's box seats, next to the dugout??? Pretty dang sweet.
Then Mr. Stein offered something that i struggle with to this day. He asked if my father had a kid who'd like to be bat boy for the night. Now, I've grown up as an adult who hates the way the Yankees do business. I can't root against Giambi, and Damon, and Wade Boggs, and Teixeirra, and Randy Johnson, and FREAKING ROGER CLEMENS, etc, etc, etc, for years and then try to love them when they put on pinstripes. Once i was presented with an alternative home town team, (the 1993 Marlins) i felt my loyalties switching. The final transformation happened in 2003 when i had to pick sides in the World Series. I attended the game where hated Red Sox pitcher Roger Clemens was making his career finale (hahaha, liar) for the yankees in the world series. He busted 20 year old Miguel Cabrera with a high inside fastball. Miggy dusted himself off and hit the next outside fastball into the seats in right field. My allegiances were officially set. How can you root for Goliath when you have your own David?
Yet when i look back on moments like this spring game in 1988, how can i dislike a team that offered such a joyous moment? Parts of me will always have a soft spot for the Yankees as long as they're actual Yankees. Not imports, or mercenaries, or former Red Sox.
Back to the story. As you can imagine, as a 10 year old, this was kind of a big deal. I headed straight to the local card store "Neil Z's" to see if he had any new (1988) yankees cards. I already had a couple 1988 donruss, and topps, but he had a WHOLE TEAM SET of 88 Fleer. They looked awesome to me at the time, and my Mom let me get them. Along with my other yankees cards, Now i was set. As it turned out i was one of three batboys that night, so i got every 3rd inning. I got to the game about 2 hours early, and got my very own yankee uniform. I was a small kid, but apparently had a big head. The bat boy uniform hat was too small for my head so i ended up with a real yankee hat.
The game was a bit of a blur, but i do remember Jay Buhner hitting a Home run and getting to run out and retrieve his bat for him.
I met Don Mattingly, Dave Winfield, Rickey Henderson, Willie Randolph, Dave Righetti, and some older guys i didn't really know yet.
I got Rags autograph on a ball along with manager Billy Martin. I was happy when Martin signed the ball, as I knew him, Rags then gave the ball to another coach who i didn't recognize at all. Hey Kid, you should let him sign too. I reluctantly and suspiciously handed the ball to an old man who didn't look much like to me. I'm glad Righetti was right. Apparently Whitey Ford was a spring time special coach that year.
Its a pretty unique item, who else would have those three guys on a ball? Mattingly I remember was on the trainers table getting his back worked on, and i patiently waited for him to sign my cards. I had a 50 count plastic case with ALL my yankees cards in them, and he looked at me asking, "Do i have to sign ALL of those???" I laughed and said, "no, I wish, i only have a couple of you" and he smiled and signed TWO of them and a baseball.
Dave Winfield who is about 17 feet tall when you're ten years old had a bat in his hand as i approached. He took what seemed like a full cut and stopped the bat inches from my face. I remember him having a huge smile after causing me to nearly ruin my new uniform
He then introduced himself and signed my card. Very cool.Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, Rickey Henderson really is a jerk, even to polite little kids.
Rickey told me he was "busy, get lost" so i said ok, thanks. I asked again at the end of the game and he sighed and grabbed a ball to sign. He made a big deal about it like it was actually hurting him, wouldnt' talk to me, and wouldn't even look at me. I was brought up with manners in a very strict household, so i'm sure i wasn't being rude or impatient. He's just a jerk.It was interesting how 10-15 other players were amazingly nice and friendly but Rickey was already just being Rickey. Oh well.
All in all, i still can't believe how awesome that day was, and how it keeps a softspot in my heart when i think about it. I recently found these cards and it brought back all those memories. I hope everyone else has a "when i fell in love with baseball" story.
