The Luckiest Man

Sixty-six years ago, at Yankee Stadium, Lou Gehrig, the Iron Horse, stricken with the illness that would claim his life at 37, said farewell in what has been called Baseball's Gettysburg Address.

I've been listening in the car to the audio book version of the new Gehrig biography, Luckiest Man. Driving is tough with your eyes misting over.

* * *

For the past two weeks you have been reading about a bad break.

Today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth.

I have been in ballparks for 17 years and have never received anything but kindness and encouragement from you fans.

Look at these grand men. Which of you wouldn’t consider it the highlight of his career just to associate with them for even one day?

...Sure, I’m lucky.

When the New York Giants, a team you would give your right arm to beat, and vice versa, sends you a gift - that’s something.

When everybody down to the groundskeepers and those boys in white coats remember you with trophies - that’s something.

When you have a wonderful mother-in-law who takes sides with you in squabbles with her own daughter - that’s something.

When you have a father and a mother who work all their lives so you can have an education and build your body - it’s a blessing.

When you have a wife who has been a tower of strength and shown more courage than you dreamed existed - that’s the finest I know.

So I close in saying that I may have had a tough break, but I have an awful lot to live for.