In honor of Phil Rizzuto 1917-2007.
I wasn’t a Yankees fan growing up, but like every other kid growing up in New York at the time (I lived there from 1968-1984, the first 16 years of my life), I certainly watched my fair share of Yankee games on WPIX. Of course, that also meant I heard my fair share of “Holy Cows” and fun, if sometimes completely unrelated to the game at hand, stories from Phil.
Being a Yankee hater, of course, the stories used to drive me nuts, but there was always an innocent charm about them and about Phil that was hard to get too angry at. That’s what I’ll remember about him. Even when he was basking in the World Series victories over my Dodgers in 77-78, and my 9-10 year old brain was swearing to never watch those stupid Yankees ever again, I’d still be back, and I’d still laugh at Scooter’s stories the next year.
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