Who would you say was the greatest New York Yankee ever?
For most people that’s like asking which was the greatest plague ever.
My personal favorite was the Black Plague because of the kerfuffle it caused from 1347-51 with 75 million casualties, although the Third Pandemic was also a good one.
As far as the Yanks are concerned They say, and you know who They are, that Babe Ruth was the greatest baseball player ever. The Bambino was once voted the “Greatest Living Player” but that changed abruptly Aug. 16, 1948.
You could also make a case for Lou Gehrig whom Wikipedia says was the first to suffer from Lou Gehrig’s Disease. Sadly he was not the luckiest man on the face of the earth.
And then there was Joe DiMaggio who accomplished two amazing feats with a 56-game hitting streak and landing Marilyn Monroe. And not necessarily in that order.
My favorite player of all time was Mickey Mantle. Now batting for the Yankees. Number 7. Mickey Mantle. Number 7.
During his playing days Mantle was likely the drunkest man on the face of the earth, but the Mick hit some of the longest home runs ever in proving once again that no steroid can match the strength of whiskey.
Mantle once said if he’d known he was going to live as long he would have taken better care of himself. I’m with ya there Mick and it’s probably too late for both of us.
And finally there’s Derek Jeter. Now batting for the Yankees. Number 2. Derek Jeter. Number 2.
Jeter is too squeaky clean to belong on the list as those other four guys could drink the Yankee shortstop under the table any day of the week.
So let’s just call Jeter the “Greatest Living Sober Yankee.”
In his final contest in pinstripes Thursday night, Jeter drove in the game-winner and then saluted the Yankee Stadium fans as I was admittedly sobbing like a Buffalo fan after Super Bowls XXV through XXVIII.
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I called the wife Monday afternoon upon completion of a story I was working on for The Era.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Salmon.”
“Are you going to take care of it?”
“I’m not goin’ fishing.”
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. Sorry. I couldn’t stop laughin’.
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There was divine intervention in more ways than one last Saturday when Penn State quarterback Christian Hackenberg was sacked by Messiah from UMass.
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University of Pittsburgh officials should’ve had a sense of humor and let the Iowa Hawkeyes wear their Steeler-look-alike home uniforms at Heinz Field last Saturday.
You can just imagine the confusion it would’ve caused among the Pittsburgh fans.
“Yins wanna nother Iron City?”
“Nah. I can’t remember who I’m rooting for now.”
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What the Ed Hochuli is goin’ on here?
A week after officials admittedly allowed Sheffield a five down-series up in Kane, the crew in Port Allegany last Friday gave the Gators just three downs.
Three downs? This ain’t Canadian football and if this was Canada we’d have free health care and I could find a decent crumpet.
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And now another weekly installment of “Who really cares where you’re kayaking.”
I journeyed up Route 98 to Albion, N.Y., to kayak the historic Erie Canal on Tuesday.
I told my daughter I was doing the Erie Canal and she said she would go with me if we could stop at the Millcreek Mall while we were in Erie. Either they didn’t cover the Erie Canal in high school or she was sick that day.
I paddled a couple of miles westerly against a mild current and turned around at a sign that read “Northernmost Point on Erie Canal.”
While floating back down I leaned back, dangled my legs over the side and closed my eyes when suddenly I slammed into the shoreline rocks.
Can’t submit that because it will make me look stupid.
