
There was a lump in my throat as I sat in the stands at the Recreation Field when I saw this elderly, slightly overweight man, stroll, with a slight shuffle, to the mound with a borrowed glove on his left hand and toss the ball from the pitcher’s mound to the Mountaineer’s catcher. It was apparent that he no longer had a blazing, big-league fastball, but his pitch, slightly wobbly and off center, did reach the catcher mitt on the fly and was softly embraced. And I instantly thought back to memorable and poignant times of decades ago, when I sat transfixed, watching this ace take on my beloved Dodgers.