Over the last month or so I have reconnected with some classmates from PS 139 in Rego Park. I was promoted from that school in 1961, so these memories go back 50 years. The other day I received an e-mail from Michael Golden who remember something that I suppressed in my mind. I have an excellent memory, but Mike remembered this:
You probably don't remember this, but you figure in one of my most vivid childhood memories. I was pitching in a Little League game, (perhaps Walter's Bake Shop team), and had a no-hitter going unitl there were two outs in the last inning. The batter hit a routine fly ball to right field, which you proceeded to let drop and kick around a bit, as the batter raced around the bases. Gone were my no-hitter, my shutout, and my day of glory. Of course, I've held a deep-seated grudge against you for the last half century or so, for the psychological trauma you created in my fragile psyche:)
I do remember playing for Walter's Bake Shop's team in the Forest Hills Little League when I was about 12 years old. I do not remember missing that fly ball. This is a suppressed memory. At least I wasn't Fred Merkle who missed second base in the Polo Grounds, or Bill Buckner who miss Mookie Wilson's grounder in the 1986 World Series, or Luis Castillo who miffed a fly ball in the subway series in 2009. I'm sure that my poor fielding did not cost Mike a multi-million dollar contract with George Steinbrenner. I was never known for my athletic prowess all those years ago.
I think The Way We Were by Barbra Streisand would be an appropriate way to end this journal entry
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