My father was a Brooklyn Dodgers’ fan.
I have a water-damaged 1942 letter from club executive Larry MacPhail in response to a missive from my 11-year-old dad.
Family lore tells that dad had recommended that the Dodgers adopt a particular tune-of-the-day as their official fight song. There is nothing to support this notion in the text of MacPhail’s response, which is quick and polite:
“Thank you for your letter of April 10. We are happy to know of your interest in the Dodgers and thank you for the good wishes you extend.”
Like many grieving Dodgers’ fans, dad picked up on the Mets when they came to town back in ’62, comforted no doubt by the presence of guys like big Gil here.
By the time I became aware of the Mets, he was a full-fledged fan, and I can still hear the elongated vowels of his frequent rallying cry: “Cleeooooon baaaaaaabyyyyyy!”
Dad died in ’77, and I am now the same age that he was when he passed.
And now Duke is gone, and there are very few of those old Dodgers left.
So rest in peace, dad. Rest in peace, Duke. Rest in peace, Gil.
Rest in peace, all good men and women of Brooklyn…
This card is a good example of why I skipped collecting the '62 set. The head shots in this set are probably the worst of all Topps runs. Despite the fact that this is Mets legend Gil Hodges, the only thing that comes to mind is...
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