Dynasty by Peter Golenbock

Author:Peter Golenbock
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-938545-39-9
Publisher: Summer Game Books
Published: 2013-12-20T16:00:00+00:00

It was May, hot and muggy in Oklahoma City, when I arrived at Tom Sturdivant's home, which, I was fascinated to find, was fully equipped with a combination bomb-tornado shelter. On my way from Missouri through Oklahoma on the radio every ten minutes came dire warnings of tornadoes, and being an easterner, I spent as much time looking for twisters as I did watching the road. I much preferred getting hit by a car than a tornado. The people who live in tornado country, though, don't pay much attention to the warnings. It's not that they don't respect the awesome power of tornadoes; rather they know that there isn't much they can do about them. They ignore the constant warnings and go about their business.

Sturdivant's wife, Ryba, and I sat in the living room enjoying Tom's considerable story-telling ability.

“I expected to make the Yankees from the time I was 6 years old,” Tom said. “I knew all along I was going to make the Yankees. Nobody else thought I was going to. But I knew I was. I had three goals in life: I wanted to be a Yankee, I wanted to pitch regular for the Yankees, and I wanted to win a world series game. Making the Yankees had been my whole life, my whole desire. I didn't have anything else to live for if I didn't make them.”

“You broke into the starting rotation in 1956.” I said.

“Around the middle of June Stengel started me in Cleveland.” Sturdivant said. “I won that ball game, beat Herb Score, three to one, and Casey started to pitch me regularly. My wife says that the three most beautiful things that she's ever seen was, number one, Ted Williams swinging a baseball bat, number two, Mickey Mantle bunting and running to first base, and number three, Herb Score pitching. I never will forget later on we were in Cleveland, and I was pitching for the Yankees, and Herb was a-pumpin’ one day, oh my gosh, and he was just mowing us down, and dadgum. it seemed like the longer the ball game would get, the harder he threw. And so I was hollering, ‘Come on boys, let's get some runs,’ and everything, so we started making bets. You know, if I get a base hit, I get a case of Yoo-Hoo from Yogi, and I'd get this from another one and that from another one, and I got up, and Score reached back and threw his hummer, and I just reached out and bunted at it, except I bunted it over the third-baseman's head. You know what I mean." Sturdivant let loose with a laugh that could have been heard down the block. “Hahahahahahahahahaha. Hell, I ran down to first base like I slugged him. You know what I mean! Hahahahahahahahahaha. I was cocky as hell. He was standing there shaking his head.

“1956 was nothing but happiness. That's the only thing I can think of. Was nothing but happiness. It was like a dream fulfilled.

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