With Baseball Sometimes the Dad is the Star

With Baseball Sometimes the Dad is the Star

 By Mike Marks

Back in 1978, just a year into the Toronto Blue Jays existence, my uncle Terry who had a stellar career at USC and turned pro pitching in the San Francisco Giants system, offered to come to Toronto and take me to a game against the Boston Red Sox.

When the uncle you looked up to offers that, well, of course you go and at 12 years old I was looking for autographs.

So after the game, we went to the Hotel Toronto where most visiting teams used to stay and in the lobby, he would point out the players going out and returning from dinner.

“That’s Dick Drago” he’d point out and I would rush over and ask for the autograph.

“Mr. Drago could you please sign.”

And then my uncle would say “That Rick Burleson.”

“Mr. Burleson would you please sign.”

Jim Rice, Dwight Evans, and others Terry would point out and I would track them down.

As I returned after one of signing, Terry quickly turned me around and said, “Quick, the elevator!”

He didn’t mention the player’s name but I caught the elevator just as the doors were closing.

I looked up to see the player and his Dad so I, as any polite Canadian kid would, asked the player, “Excuse me sir, can I have our autograph?”

He smiled, took the ball and pen and I caught a glimpse as he was writing. It was Jerry Remy who at the time, was a young second baseman in his first year with the Sox having come over from the California Angels.

 I thanked him, smiled at Jerry and his Dad which is just about the time when it started to get awkward.

It didn’t take long but there was definitely a weird vibe in the air.

The Dad then quickly pressed the elevator button for the next floor. As the door opened, he put his hand on my shoulder and slid me out of the elevator saying, “Kid, when I was your age I was in bed by this time,” and then I could hear the two of them roaring in laughter as the doors closed and the elevator went up.

What the hell just happened? I was polite, said thank you and everything.

As I got back down to the lobby, Terry rushed over “Did you get it?”

“Yeah, Jerry Remy,” I said as I pointed to the spot on the ball.

“What about the other one?” he asked.

“What other one? It was his dad.” I let him know.

“That wasn’t his dad … that was Carl Yastrzemski.”

Yaz. Hall of Fame freaking Yaz. And I blew him off for an autograph from the new kid Jerry Remy.

 Terry couldn’t help but rub it in, “You know that Remy will be telling EVERYONE in the dugout tomorrow that some kid blew off Yaz to get his autograph instead”.

But in the end, I won. Terry had to take me to the game the next day and got me there early so I could get Yaz’s autograph.

Yaz didn’t say a word when he finally signed my ball but he definitely had a smile that told me he remembered.

Sorry Yaz. Sometimes, the “Dad” is the star.

 Mike Marks (Ottawa, Ont.) is head of marketing, Adobe Canada.