Fifty years ago, I was a twenty-four year-old basketball/baseball coach and athletic director at Mason City high school (Mason City, Illinois). The year was 1964 and the St. Louis Cardinals and New York Yankees were locked in a dandy World Series, which came down to a deciding seventh game at old Sportsman Park in St. Louis. The day before the seventh-game, my Dad telephoned me to tell me he had tickets to the championship game and wanted to know if I could make the game. That was a no-brainer. I took a personal day and headed to the Mississippi River city anticipating sitting with my hero (Dad) watching my first ever World Series; WOW!
It was somewhat strange for Dad to request me and brothers Tom and Marty to meet him down on Broadway not far from Sportsman Park...why not meet him at the game-site. When my brothers and I arrived at the suggested meeting place, Dad handed each of his three sons a cherished ticket. Dad said, "You boys are driving yourselves,; I could only get three tickets...I won't be going."
The Cardinals behind the brilliant pitching of Bob Gibson beat the Yankees to claim the Championship. Hero and MVP of the day was a selfless Father. What a guy!
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