My Childhood Nemesis
09/17/06 02:07 PersonalGeneral Yammering
I grew up a Yankee fan in Northern New Jersey in the
late 1970s/early 1980s. It was the time of Billy
Martin, The Bronx Zoo, and the great Yankee comeback
of 1978. My hero was Graig Nettles - as a young
little leaguer with major league aspirations, it was
Nettles' defensive play that taught me that the glove
was not just something you wore inbetween at bats. It
was Nettles that helped shape my belief that a
perfectly-turned double play was more exciting than a
home run, and that an impossible, diving stop was
what made baseball such a great game to me.
Anyway, during that time, I always considered the Yankees' greatest rival not to be the Red Sox, but the Kansas City Royals. That team gave us fits with the Yankee-killer pitching of Larry Gura and Paul Splittorff, and the pesky offense of Al Cowens, Amos Otis, and John Mayberry. But the Royals had one guy that I hated above all.
George Brett.
Brett was the best hitter in the American League, a guy who could kill you at any point in the game. No pitcher was immune - not Guidry, not Figueroa, not Lyle, and certainly not even Gossage, as evidenced by his playoff performances.
That's why the Pine Tar Game gave me so much pleasure. It was Nettles that pointed out Brett's gratuitous use of pine tar, another example of how in baseball, intellect trumps everything. Watching Brett lose his mind when he was called out was worth the eventual loss to me; the vision of this guy who was always so cool at the plate coming completely unglued and having to be physically restrained from killing the crew chief that day made me laugh uncontrollably.
A few years after that Game, Brett was doing an autograph signing for a promoter in New York. One of the guys who was working for the promoter, acting as a "handler" for Brett, spent the entire session riding him; ragging him about the Yankees, the Royals' inability to beat them, and the Pine Tar Game. Then, in the ultimate display of moxie, after the session was over, the guy hands Brett a baseball and asks for an autograph.
The result was this treasure I was able to add to my collection about a year ago, a message Brett seemed to be constantly sending to Yankee fans throughout my childhood.
Anyway, during that time, I always considered the Yankees' greatest rival not to be the Red Sox, but the Kansas City Royals. That team gave us fits with the Yankee-killer pitching of Larry Gura and Paul Splittorff, and the pesky offense of Al Cowens, Amos Otis, and John Mayberry. But the Royals had one guy that I hated above all.
George Brett.
Brett was the best hitter in the American League, a guy who could kill you at any point in the game. No pitcher was immune - not Guidry, not Figueroa, not Lyle, and certainly not even Gossage, as evidenced by his playoff performances.
That's why the Pine Tar Game gave me so much pleasure. It was Nettles that pointed out Brett's gratuitous use of pine tar, another example of how in baseball, intellect trumps everything. Watching Brett lose his mind when he was called out was worth the eventual loss to me; the vision of this guy who was always so cool at the plate coming completely unglued and having to be physically restrained from killing the crew chief that day made me laugh uncontrollably.
A few years after that Game, Brett was doing an autograph signing for a promoter in New York. One of the guys who was working for the promoter, acting as a "handler" for Brett, spent the entire session riding him; ragging him about the Yankees, the Royals' inability to beat them, and the Pine Tar Game. Then, in the ultimate display of moxie, after the session was over, the guy hands Brett a baseball and asks for an autograph.
The result was this treasure I was able to add to my collection about a year ago, a message Brett seemed to be constantly sending to Yankee fans throughout my childhood.
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