* Wordslinger demonstrated once again today why we named our best commenter of the year award after him with this perfect gem…
As an aside, my greatest baseball memory:
When I was about 12, my buddy Wags and I were hanging one hot summer Sunday afternoon at the Dairy Queen by the Kish on Lincoln Highway in DeKalb.
We’d been fishing at the lagoon on campus and had stopped off to freeze our brains with a Mister Mistee.
While we loitered in a booth there, a couple of old gents walked in for an ice cream cone, clearly coming straight from the golf course.
One of them was a giant — tall, thin, regal, decked out in the most elegant golf duds …
…it was Joe Dimaggio.
Wags and I about plotzed.
Turned out Joe was in town to visit a friend, Sam Brody, who owned Brody Coats in Sycamore. As my very jealous brothers told me later, they’d played together in the Pacific Coast League before Joe went east to take possession of New York, baseball, and Marilyn Monroe.
Joe and Sam stood and enjoyed their cones, then Wags and I finally mustered the courage to approach them.
“Excuse me, mister, are you Joe Dimaggio?”
The giant looked down, smiled and said “yes.”
“Can we have your autograph?”
“Sure. I see your fishing poles. You boys catch anything?”
“You like baseball? I used to play baseball, you know….”
Joe Dimaggio on a Sunday afternoon at the Dairy Queen in DeKalb. When you’re 12.
Can. You. Dig. It.
Your favorite baseball memory?