Memorial Day

When I was a kid, Memorial Day meant baseball. Usually doubleheaders. Scheduled doubleheaders. Now the only doubleheaders are to make up for rain-outs and they frequently are day/night twin bills. Teams can't give people two for the price of one.
Anyway, as I got a little older, I learned of the true meaning of Memorial Day. I really think hard about the brave people who put their lives on the line for us. That is why you and I can watch baseball or do anything else in this great country. I appreciate those who served and continue to serve our country. They are braver then I'll ever be and I thank every one of them, past and present, from the bottom of my heart.
As for baseball, my most vivid Memorial Day memory took place on this poignant holiday at Yankee Stadium on May 27th, 1991.
The Yankees were pretty bad those days in what Yankee fans refer to the Stump Merrill era. While Stump was apparently a loyal and very good minor league manager, that wasn't the case in the Majors. He also didn't have the horses. He had Don Mattingly and a bunch of stiffs.
This particular day, the Bostons were in town. The Red Sox were in first place and jumped out to a 5-0 lead by the 5th inning. It didn't look good for the Yankees on a most beautiful, sunny, warm day.
The Yanks chipped away and won it in the bottom of the 9th on a 3-run homer off Jeff Reardon by Mel Hall, 6-5. It was Hall's second homer of the day and I can still see the trajectory of his line drive blast to right. I was sitting with my friend Jimmy down the third base line about three rows from the field. As soon as Hall hit it the place erupted.
It was probably the high point of the season for the Yankees who finished a dismal 71-91. The Red Sox finished 7-games behind the Blue Jays.
As for Mel Hall? Never a very popular player among his teammates, he's been in prison since June of 2009 for raping underage girls. He was sentenced to 45 years in the slammer and he won't be eligible for parole until late in 2031 when he'll be 70. That's a long time to think about his horrible and despicable acts.
But on one Memorial Day Monday, Mel Hall heard the cheers. I wonder if he ever thinks of that glorious afternoon in the Bronx as he rots away in a prison cell.