Most people don’t know that I was once a second-round draft pick by the Pittsburgh Pirates in 1975. I always say that I fooled the scouts. If you don’t believe me, in the new world of the internet you can look it up. I actually got to surround myself with some wonderful teammates like Dale Berra and Willie Randolph during my short stint with the Bucs. Another one of those players was a pitcher by the name of Bob Semerano. A player with great ability but more importantly a terrific person that I would never forget. Forty-eight years later I would get a call from Bob. He told me that he had tickets to that Saturday’s Yankee game. He asked if I could come over to his seat to meet his son Rob and his two grandsons. Naturally, I would go and greet them and it was just so nice to be able to reminisce about our stints as professional players. Bob then told me about the fact that his son Rob who was forty-one years old had played professional baseball for several teams including the Yankees. He told me that his son had just recovered from Tommy John surgery. They said that Rob was on a throwing program and that they were shocked at the incredible progress.
After talking I asked Rob if he wanted to have a catch. He laughed because he thought I was kidding, however I wasn’t. Anyone that knows me, knows that I’m a romantic about the game. I took him across the street to the sight of the original Yankee Stadium and we had a catch. I always keep two gloves and baseballs and a bat in my trunk at all times. If you don’t believe me, just open up my trunk. Whenever I drive into the parking lot at Yankee Stadium the attendant has to check my trunk. It’s a standard security procedure. the attendant once asked me why do I have the gloves there and I told him that you never know when you will need to have a catch. I could tell by his laugh that he thought I was joking. Little did he know that I wasn’t. However, that’s a story for another day.
After getting my ball and gloves from the gate two garage we walked across the street to the original Yankee Stadium.
After loosening up a little bit we started our catch. Rob had a natural smooth motion even though he was throwing with sneakers. After about twenty-some-odd pitches the sound of the glove got louder and it started to hurt my hand. I have been around enough great pitchers and hung around enough bullpens to know that if I didn’t stop playing catch with this guy I was either going to get hurt and possibly killed.
When we stopped I looked at the father and his son and we walked back to the stadium. As we crossed the street I remember asking Bob’s grandsons if they would like to see their dad play professional baseball. When we got back to the stadium we said our goodbyes and I said I would be in touch.
After going to sleep with this on my mind I got up the next day and called Ray Irizarry an assistant to ownership at the Staten Island Ferryhawks. I told him the situation but I also told him that Rob was forty-one years old. Being that the Ferryhawks were an independent team it wouldn’t be such a bad gamble. He agreed and told me to bring him in so that the manager Homer Bush and the league’s best pitching coach Nelson Figueroa could see him. When I called Rob to tell him what the situation was there was a quiet on the other line. I asked what was wrong. He said that he was in the middle of a divorce and he just wouldn’t be able to leave his sons at that time.
I told him that being a father that had gone through the same situation I totally understood.
This winter Bob continues his dream of a possible comeback and I have been told by some scouts that have seen him that he’s been clocked at 96 to 98 with a high of 101 miles per hour.
Am I in the middle of watching the movie The Rookie part two?
I don’t know if I am, however, the baseball romantic in me really hopes so because it would be a wonderful story that baseball and life, in general, could use. Knowing the father and son and their work ethic I wouldn’t bet against them.
DIAMOND DUST….
Today with true sadness I must report that former Yankees batboy and clubhouse attendant Jake Ryan passed away yesterday. I don’t know the circumstances behind his death. I can only say that he was a very special and popular person in the Yankees clubhouse. Rest in peace, Jake.
