Still no real news to speak of, so back to telling tales from the past. And, in that regard, I'm upset with myself. Because while re-reading yesterday's entry about a jock who became an actor, I realized I've never mentioned my closest relationship with a truly "professional" athlete. Dick Lynch.
But first, a little background. From my formative years in sports, beginning as a spectator my favorite professional football team was the New York Giants. I lived and died with that team, season after season. And then, in the late fifties and early sixties they put a powerhouse together, though never winning championship games. The players on those rosters were legends.
YA Tittle at quarterback, Kyle Rote and Frank Gifford (everyone knows Frank,) Rosey Greer who went on to television shows, and Rosey Brown. Pat Summerall, Del Shofner, Alex Webster, Joe Morrison, Joe Walton and Andy Robustelli to name a few.
And then, in 1963 as I recall, their all-world middle linebacker, Sam Huff, whom I believe was the guy who created the position as it's played today, had the nerve to ask the owning Mara's for a raise. In no time Sam was traded to the Washington Redskins for a punt returner named something like Dicky James.
Now, I don't remember ever seeing Dicky return a punt because most often the ball hit him in helmet before he had a chance to receive it, but it didn't matter to me. Because within a flash just about the whole team was traded away for nothing, and I was so upset I vowed never to mention that team's name again. To this day I've lived up to my promise and have not seen or heard a Giant's football game since.
To my good fortune in the same year as my divorce from the Mara's a man named Sonny Werblin started the Titans of New York, who soon became the NY Jets. Then along came Broadway Joe Namath from Beaver Falls, Pa and the University of Alabama who took us to the win in Super Bowl III in 1969. I was a fan from day one, still am, and plan to keep it that way in the future.
But now, back to Dick Lynch.
For many, many years I played a golf course in Douglaston, NY. I spent a lot of time there and knew everyone who worked in the clubhouse. Since it's a "public" course anyone can play there and, thus, in time you can meet an awful lot of people. Most often, I went there by myself and therefore generally wound up joining three other people.
I always rented a golf cart and sometimes another player would split the fee and join me, but most often I rode around by myself. Now, that suited me fine because I didn't go to the course to "socialize" I went to play golf. In fact, I rarely spoke to anyone else I was grouped with, even if they shared my cart.
Then one day, some guy shared my cart with me and as usual before the round began I stayed on the practice putting green until our foursome was called to the first tee. At the tee, I hit my shot climbed into the cart and drove off down the fairway. To this point I'd not even really looked at my cart partner, and surely hadn't said a word to him.
When we reached my cart-partner's ball, he got out of the cart, selected a club from his bag and lined himself to hit his second shot. And that's when I noticed he was facing the wrong way. If he were to swing at the ball he'd have sent it flying back toward the first tee. I immediately jumped out of the cart and approached him saying, "Excuse me sir, maybe you haven't played here before, but the green is the other way. You're lined up to hit the ball back toward the clubhouse."
His answer to that was, "Excuse me sir, but I am lined up properly. You see, I'm left-handed."
Realizing my gaffe, I said "Sorry, sir. Hit away." then slumped away apologetically. But as I approached the cart, some kind of memory light triggered and I looked at the tags on his golf bag. There were many of them and they all read "Dick Lynch." When I glanced back at him I also noticed that everything he wore, shirt, shorts, sweater, all had NFL or NY Giant logos. Except for his old, beat up baseball-type cap. That said ND in blue and gold letters. Notre Dame.
And now I knew just whom I was playing golf with that morning. Lynch played his college football at Notre Dame and is in their Hall of Fame. Though a defensive standout professionally, in 1957 he scored the only touchdown in Notre Dame's 7-0 win over the University of Oklahoma that ended the Sooners' 47-game winning streak.
After retiring from playing he was the color commentator for the New York Giants' radio broadcasts from 1967 to 2008. Over time he paired with several notable play-by-play announcers, including Marty Glickman, Marv Albert, Jim Gordon and Bob Papa.
Within a while that morning, I began speaking to Dick, telling him immediately about my distaste for the Giants and that I despised them because they'd traded my "team" away. Surprisingly, he not only didn't argue, I got the sense that although he'd never say it, after all his blood ran Giant blue and red, but he might have secretly agreed with me. But, that really didn't matter. Because all he wanted to do was play golf and get better at it, so we never discussed football again.
And that, I think, is why we soon became close friends. Because from that day on, we played plenty of times together and I did the play-by-play, talking to him about the most important thing in his life, his golf game.
That's it for today folks.
Adios
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