Twenty-three years is a very long time, yet the freshness of you remains, as fresh as the interest for the New York Yankees which you instilled in me. Baseball is such a banal thing but it fills me with passionate joy, and painful passion. The joy, remembering driving home Wednesday evenings after church, their game on the radio, and sitting in the car until the end of the inning, before going into the house to finish listening. And there is the pain of it just being a memory.
I certainly do not need to tell you that after so many Marches, much has transpired. You remember Billy Martin and his temperament, you might remember Joe Torre. Now we have Aaron Boone, and today, during a Spring Training game, Boone decided to celebrate the person, and the success of Torre, by having him make a guest appearance, executing a pitching change, at the tender age of eighty-three.
He walked to the mound, after two outs in the sixth inning, and took the ball from Carlos Rodón (whose father left Cuba just a decade after you did). They had a short symbolic chat, and the stadium, and myself were emotional – as emotional as you and I have always been.
March 18 2024
In memory of my father (March 21 1931 – March 11 2001), today I share a Yankees memory as excerpt from a work in progress:
Sila Blume 
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