From There to Eternity

This past week, three people who played varying roles in my life me passed away: Tom Seaver, Lou Brock, and Kevin Dobson. In a Bronx neighborhood chock-full of Yankee fans, I was a rare bird: a Met fan, nicknamed “Mr. Met.” And with that passionate devotion and youthful enthusiasm for my team came a hero worship of the biggest star of them all—George Thomas Seaver—who threw a baseball both exceptionally fast and incredibly smart. He was a man, too, who conducted himself with class and professionalism on and off the field.

As a boy in the early- and mid-1970s, I watched many Met games on the family’s black-and-white TV set and listened to others on my very own state-of-the-art radio with a super-cool circular tuning dial. It was a First Holy Communion gift from my godmother. I desperately wanted a radio in the spring of 1970 to listen to Met games—and for no other reason than that. There were a lot of close contests—nail biters, as it were—in those days. For my beloved Mets had a stellar pitching staff anchored by Seaver, a.k.a. “Tom Terrific,” and a not-especially productive offense. In other words, there was more than a fair share of two-to-one and one-to-nothing losses to suffer through. In Mrs. Bertolini’s fourth-grade Language Arts class, I wrote an essay about my hero in which I noted: “Tom Seaver throughs with his right hand.” Close enough.

While Bob Murphy, Lindsey Nelson, and Ralph Kiner painted the baseball word picture so eloquently and free of over-analysis and gratuitous criticism, joy or heartbreak came my way day after day after day. Those win-loss highs and lows were kicked up a notch when Tom Seaver took the mound. A friend—and fellow rare bird from the neighborhood—and I fretted over our hero’s E.R.A. when he gave up three or four runs, which, happily, wasn’t very often. Yes, Tom Seaver supplied us with more than a few summers to remember and remember fondly.

Lou Brock, meanwhile, was one of those opposing team stars—and future Hall of Famers—that the Mets played against back in the day when baseball truly was the American pastime. He was simultaneously speedy and classy in an age when athletes weren’t cosseted prima donnas, mega-millionaires, and grandstanders. It was a better time to be a fan of a game steeped in tradition and lore. Nowadays, they’re playing seven-inning games during double-headers and putting an automatic man on second base in extra-inning games. Lou Brock would have gotten there the old-fashioned way—singled and stole second. And just how long would that have taken?

Lastly, actor Kevin Dobson died a couple of days ago. He will always be Bobby Crocker to me, Lieutenant Kojak’s loyal, dedicated, and tenacious right-hand man. Kojak was my favorite detective show in the days when I hung on every one of Tom Seaver’s pitches. Dobson was born and raised in Jackson Heights, Queens and worked as a motorman and conductor—among other things—for the Long Island Railroad before becoming an actor. His New York roots go a long way in explaining why he came across as the genuine article in his role as a young NYPD detective. It’s worth noting that the police in the city were on the hot seat then due to rampant corruption and misconduct. Frank Serpico was a household name. Nevertheless, Theo Kojak emphasized the importance of the badge and what it ideally represented—maintaining order and keeping the peace. He once chastised an aggressive private detective and contemporary bounty hunter named Salathiel Harms—as played by Rosie Greer—for crossing the line. “You’re one, big angry man,” Kojak said. “But I got a badge in my pocket that’s bigger than both of us. Respect it!” R.I.P. Tom Seaver, Lou Brock, and Kevin Dobson. So much was lost this week.

(Photos from the personal collection of Nicholas Nigro)