By

Roy Berger
  August 15 and August 16. Three and four days ago. Take the same two dates and span them over fifty-three years. They are the days the music not only started, but subsequently, the days the music stopped. However for the New York Mets, perennial losers, those calendar days represent perfection. August 15, 1965. It...
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Thurman Munson died thirty-nine years ago Thurday.  It was August 2, 1979. Some from the younger set will ask ‘who was Thurman Munson?’  Others might recall the name.  But if you are a baseball-loving boomer you either loved him or loathed him.  Few were indifferent. Of course, Thurman Munson was a catcher for the New...
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The trip started 16,085 days ago. June 17, 1974 to be exact. It ended Friday afternoon. The goal was to become a hockey writer. Ultimately, the best damn hockey writer ever to cover the sport. I knew I would make it big. After all, I had just graduated The U with a degree in journalism...
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Like almost everything else in life these days, getting on a bicycle used to be easier. Much easier. Nevertheless, last Monday I put my left foot on the left pedal and then somehow raised my right leg over the rupture bar, swung it over the high seat and without making a scene landed my right...
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If politics makes for strange bedfellows, then in our house tennis heroes fall just short of separate bedrooms. While Andi and I are on different ends of the political spectrum, I must admit as the daily buffoonery continues I have moved a little, just a little, over to her side of the Sealy demarcation line....
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The ink wasn’t even dry and I was asked the question. Actually, that’s not true. They don’t use ink anymore. But I still got asked the question. It was the last week of January, 2014 at Pirates old-guy fantasy camp in Bradenton, Florida. The Most Wonderful Week of the Year had been released two weeks earlier. “So,...
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Dear Vegas Golden Knights: I write this letter in confidence. Please keep it between us. As a lifelong New York Rangers fan the Stanley Cup has never gotten in my way. Until you came along. Once in my life, once in my sixty-six years, the Cup finals were worth watching. All the way back to...
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What in the name of Mikhail Baryshnikov is going on? Today is my birthday. Somehow I just became 66. The Social Security Administration told me by letter yesterday, in a very rare exhibit of bureaucratic efficiency, that effective today I qualify for ‘full’ retirement benefits. But if I wait four more years, the ‘full’ benefit...
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The normally tasty pecan crusted chicken salad wasn’t as good on Wednesday. “Bruno Sammartino died today,” I said to Andi over lunch. She sensed my disappointment. “I don’t know who that is,” she admitted after thinking she should. Andi’s a girl, so she’s excused. “Bruno Sammartino died today,” I said to Larry Nickles in the...
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For the past twenty or maybe twenty-five years, ever since the kids left and life slowed down, today was my favorite Sunday of the year. Masters Sunday. The futon on the screened-in porch. A slow burning Cohiba or Montecristo that had been stashed away all winter, just for today. A tall, cold glass of Diet...
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