Eight years ago today, we lost Buck ONeil. I think about my friend every single day for one reason or another. Sometimes I think of one of his many profound thoughts -- I never met anyone who loved life and loved baseball as much. But more often its something small. Just yesterday, I saw a man at the airport being offered a wheelchair. The man quietly refused. And I thought of Buck at an airport in Houston a year or so before he died. He was 93 years old, dressed like always to the nines, and a nice woman came over and offered him a wheel chair. I looked over at my dear friend Bob Kendrick and saw him smile; we both knew that nothing irritated Buck more than anyone treating him like an old man. Bob gave a look that said, Oh, this should be good. Buck looked at the woman, and he looked at the wheelchair, and he looked back at the woman. Young lady, he said, If you want to get in the wheelchair Ill be happy to push you to the gate. Last week, I was with a friend having dinner when the waiter came over and put the check next to me. And I was reminded of a time in Atlanta when I was having dinner with Bob and Buck, and the waiter came over and put the check next to me. Do you see that Bob? Buck said. They always give the check to the white guy. You notice that? Buck, I said, would you like the check? Oh no, he said instantly. Its your check. He gave it to you.
Posted on: Tue, 07 Oct 2014 00:28:37 +0000
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