| Babe and the Break-Up |
| April 8th, 2004 Exactly thirty years ago today, Hammerin' Hank Aaron was literally slamming one out of the park and into the record books. At virtually the same time, Fumblin' Fred Hembeck was swinging and missing, strike three, side retired, game over... Hold on there, non-sports fans--worry not. This ISN'T yet another one of my lyrical paeans to the alleged national pastime. Nope, instead it's a rather personal little anecdote about yours truly, one that just so happens to coincide with a famous moment in baseball history. You'll understand after I explain, okay? There was, y'see, this girl... Her name was Eileen, and I first met her when I was attending the art program at State University of N.Y. at Farmingdale in 1972. She had virtually the same exact schedule as I did that second year--as did a fellow by the name of Joe that I'd become good friends with my freshman year. She kibitzed with the pair of us while we all worked on our mutual assignments during the long sessions in the art labs, and what had started out merely as a shared camaraderie eventually evolved into something more. For both of us. No, not for me and Eileen--I mean for Joe and I! Oh, in retrospect, I always suspected she could've wound up with either one of us, but what can I say? After we'd both spent a considerable amount of time endlessly warming up in the bullpen, Joe finally stepped up to the plate first, and as a result, touched ALL the bases! (Gee, these baseball metaphors sure come in handy sometimes, don't they?...) As matters developed, Joe and Eileen subsequently embarked on a fairly intense relationship, and being the sorta guy I am--a veritable prince--I big-heartedly wished them well, and remained good friends with the now inseparable couple as we all proceeded to complete our studies. (..not that I didn't feel like kicking myself from time to time over my ineffectual inability to step into the batter's box, but, hey, no one hits a 1.000, y'know...) (...which really doesn't make sense in this instance, because even a .325 average is hardly anything to crow about in this situation, but since I'm committed to this baseball motif, well...) Getting back to our story, please understand that Farmingdale was merely a two year college, one all three of us commuted to, but due to an involved set of circumstances having to do with an old high school pal of mine, we all three eventually wound up transferring to the other end of the state for a couple more years of higher learning at S.U.N.Y. Buffalo, following the completion of our Long Island tenure. Once again, we had all our art classes together. The biggest upheaval in our seemingly constant proximity had to do instead with where we were each situated, dorm-wise. I was in Cooke Hall, an older building located right in the heart of what was generally referred to as the main campus. Joe and Eileen, however, were housed about ten miles away in a brand new set of modernistic interlocking buildings on what was known as--you guessed it--the new campus. Now, since none of us had a car at our disposal when we first arrived in Buffalo (though I would by year's end), we were all at the mercy of the school's shuttle bus to get us back and forth between the two locations. The thing was, I hardly ever bothered to make my way out there, as I saw the happy couple each and every day in class--which, to my good fortune, was located in a building not far down the street from where I myself lived. And anyway, I was meeting all sorts of new people. I had long since moved on from this schoolboy crush I had had on Eileen. I can honestly state under oath that yes, at this point--and for quite awhile prior to it--I really did just think of her as a good friend. Besides, y'know, there WERE other members of the female population circulating about, and I made a point of pursuing several of them--with, it must be admitted, varying degrees of success. In any event, nothing of a long-lasting nature ever quite developed. But I remained ready for most anything, except, natch, what actually DID happen... Y'see, a funny thing began to slowly transpire--after about two years of being practically joined at the hip, cracks began to show in Joe and Eileen's once rock-solid relationship. And then--PSSSSHHHHHHHTT--just like that, it collapsed entirely. Okay, okay--I know what you're thinking. Really, I thought you knew me better--no, I DIDN'T just swoop in, trying to pick up the pieces from my forlorn pal's shattered love affair (yup, she gave HIM the boot, and he wasn't at all happy about it, that I can assure you). The fact is, I commiserated with Joe--heck, I wound up listening to them both pour out tales of woe. Ultimately, I think it all pretty much boiled down to Eileen, away from home for the first time in her entire life, wanting a little taste of freedom, and not wanting to be tied down to just one guy. Fair enough, I suppose. So, although we traveled in entirely different circles in the hours after classes, I knew she was happily moving on without the burden of a regular beau. But like I said, Joe wasn't pleased being so unceremoniously eliminated from the picture. At all. And that, friend's, is how things remained for several months. Until... Yeah, I asked her out. By this later point in time, it seemed almost impossible to imagine the two of them EVER getting back together, y'know? Plus, certain other experiences emboldened me to boldly scrawl my name into the line-up card and swing for the fences. In retrospect, sure, it was obviously a slap in the face to my erstwhile buddy, but I was just too naive to realize that, instead choosing to believe my own rather tenuous self-justifications for this (some might uncharitably say) back-stabbing move. But, well, what can I say? Girls--they can make you do crazy things, even without meaning to. (Which, I'm told, is a defense that'll NEVER actually hold up in court...) Besides, what could it hurt to go out on one little date?... Well, you'd be surprised. We spent an awful lot of time together that weekend, and by the time we got to class Monday morning, I was pretty much convinced that this was it for me, that now it was gonna be Fred and Eileen, and it was gonna be Fred and Eileen for a long, LOONNG time. Of course, had I allowed myself to honestly read the concerned look that greeted me that morning, I might've realized elsewise, but hey, who ever wants to come down from a happiness high, hmm? The surprisingly chilly reception surprised me, and while I suppose I was expecting one from Joe, I certainly wasn't from my new/old girlfriend. As the week progressed, she continued to be reluctant to offer any explanation for her subdued mood during classroom hours, ducking my questions, and putting off my attempts to make any plans for us the following weekend. Finally, she agreed to speak with me over at her dorm Friday evening, but she also made it clear this wasn't actually a date or anything. I didn't have a very positive feeling about this turn of events, but, foolishly, I continued to hope for the best... I took the twenty minute bus-ride over to her dorm complex, built out in the middle of nowhere (many more buildings would be erected by the University in the vicinity come the ensuing years), and went inside, baffled as always by the seemingly never-ending circular hallways that appeared to look the same around every corner's turn, made even more dire by the fact that, then, as now, I have an appallingly terrible sense of direction. Eventually, out of breath, and with my poor heart racing, I found my way to Eileen's quadrant, but tellingly, when I finally did meet her at her room, she hastily directed me away from her door and instead out to a commons area. This couldn't be good, and even clueless ol' me knew it... We sat across from each other on a pair of newly bought but nonetheless chintzy stuffed chairs. In the background, right over her shoulder, I was vaguely aware of a bunch of students--guys mainly--gathered around a television set. Looking at me gravely, voice dripping with seriousness, Eileen began to lower the boom, but just before she gets to her pivotal point--sure, we'd had a lot of fun that past weekend, but that's all it was, understand, and once she realized I'd obviously invested more in it, she felt had to put a quick end to things before she found herself once again unhappily out of circulation--before she quite had the chance to say ANY of this solemn little speech of hers, the guys in the background started whoopin', hollerin', and just plain going wild! No, I WASN'T on "Candid Camera", so curious as to what ELSE could have gotten everyone so all-fired giddy, we both simultaneously temporarily halted our all-important personal tete a tete, and turned to see exactly what had happened. History had happened. Atlanta Braves slugger Hank Aaron had just connected with an Al Downing fastball, launching it over the fence and off into Cooperstown, as it was the 715th round-tripper of his already storied career, and more importantly, it was the one that FINALLY put him one up on the Babe, surpassing Ruth's long-standing career home run total of 714. "Huh--Aaron did it," I remember thinking, "Good for him." And then I went back to being dumped... Oh, I'd been given the ol' heave-ho before, but this time was just a little bit different. I'd spent a fair amount of time imagining that this particular girl was the perfect one for me, and those fanciful pipe-dreams had only intensified in the preceding week. But just as the Babe couldn't hold onto his record, let me admit for the record, apparently I couldn't hold onto the babe... Not that I was totally prepared to give up entirely. Oh sure, I went along agreeably with the whole "let's go back to just being friends" shtick, but there were still five long weeks left in the semester, and I figured I'd do my best to just subtlety chip away at her resistance during that time. And who knows--maybe it would've worked, too. But a funny thing happened with but two weeks left in the school year--I met someone else. I met Lynn. And that, folks was the REAL deal, and we both knew it immediately. So y'see, it turns out, funnily enough, that getting dumped by Eileen was the best thing that ever happened to me, because if I'd STAYED involved with her, well, I certainly wouldn't have connected with the wonderful woman that I'm still with to this very day. Besides, I think I finally saw her sans the rose-colored goggles the following year, enough to come to the realization that, as nice a person as she was, we never would've lasted together for very long. Too bad Joe never quite figured that out. Yeah, they hooked up again that last fall semester, to disastrous results. Me and my new, best-ever gal were only vaguely aware of their sorry situation. We were only slightly in tune with the way that particular baseball season ultimately turned out, too--but there WAS one specific player who nonetheless got our stunned attention during that autumn's World Series. Not only had he led his team--the Boston Red Sox--to the Fall Classic, but he was eventually voted the American League's Most Valuable Player AND Rookie of the Year, the only time a first year player had ever garnered both trophies at the beginning of his career. This guy burst outta the gate like pure gangbusters--which was a fair description of the romance now in full swing between me and my forever-more sweetie! His significance to a pair of oft-times sickenly sweet, lovey-dovey, crazy mixed-up college kids? Simple enough. It was his name. Fred Lynn. Hey, is it any wonder I LOVE this game?... |