He would combine tennis and softball before the big dinner. One year tennis great Chris Evert was there. Another year he played doubles with Andre Agassi. Andre was a stitch. He would act like he couldn't play that well until someone fell for it and he would whizz a ball right by their head.
On the softball diamond, Michael would play third base. And since he and I had become friends, I played the outfield on his team. Huge crowds would watch the games.
The softball games and the tennis matches were played during the day with the charity dinner at night and it was at one of those events I met Joe DiMaggio.
The Yankee Clipper.
One of the greatest Yankees ever. Let's count them off. As far as legends go, there was the Babe, Lou Gehrig, Mickey Mantle and Joltin' Joe. Some people would throw Yogi Berra in with the legends, and I wouldn't argue with you, but the Mount Rushmore guys are the four I mentioned.
In baseball history, Joe's name is said in hushed tones. Three time Most Valuable Player with a slew of sterling statistics. Joe played on nine winning World Series teams, had that 56 game hitting streak, and is a Hall of Famer. Plus, don't forget, married Marilyn Monroe.
Michael sat me next to him at a dinner the night before the BIG charity dinner.
It was 1995 and the Yankees were in the playoffs. They were playing the Seattle Mariners and it seemed the game was on every television in the restaurant. Everyone wanted to talk baseball with Joe but he would have none of it. People would come up to the table and Joe's one word responses sent them away empty handed. It was kinda fun to watch.
I learned something that night.
Joe ordered Parmesan cheese. Not the kind most people sprinkle on their spaghetti but the real stuff. Parmesan cheese that came in chunks. He would dip it in olive oil before eating it. Joe was old school and I found myself ordering and doing the same. Copying Joe. I learned something else that night. Don't talk baseball with Joe DiMaggio. But what to do? I said to him, "I love the ties you wore. The ones I would see you wearing in pictures from when you played with the Yankees. Where'd you buy them?"
He smiled.
"Oh, I didn't buy them," Joe said. "People would send them to me. I used to spread them out on the bed in the hotel room to help me decide which one I would wear that day." "Well, I would look for ties like that to wear," I said. He smiled again. We spent the whole night talking about ties. When the evening ended I had made a new friend.
Cut ahead a year or so and I was at a BAT dinner at the Marriott Marquis hotel in Times Square. BAT stands for Baseball Assistance Team. Say, if a player (and not a star) dies, and his family is having trouble coming up with the money for a casket or if they have a big hospital bill to pay, BAT helps them out.
The place was crawling with Hall of Fame players.
I was the guest of one of my heroes, Hall of Fame pitcher, St. Louis Cardinal great Bob Gibson. How big a hero? One of my twins is Miles Gibson McEwen, for Bob. He doesn't drink beer or wine or hard liquor. But. Bob drinks champagne. So guess what we drank? And I'm getting looped. Around nine, before I got really toasted, I left. I had to get up at four in the morning.
I head out and was waiting at the elevator bank when one stopped and the doors opened. I was about to get in when I noticed there were four big bodyguards in it, and one of them said, "This car is taken." From behind them I hear a voice say, "No, he's alright."
Joe DiMaggio.
Before I could say anything, Joe added, "Nice tie."
#MarkMcEwen
Bruce Springsteen has been playing stadiums for decades.
Think about that.
He also made New Jersey cool.
Think about that, too.
I discovered Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band in college. His manager now, Jon Landau, was a music critic when he wrote these famous words: "I saw rock and roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen." I read that and when Bruce came to town, I went to see him.
Guys in bands used to shake their money makers onstage for the girls in the audience.
I came away blown away. A raving lunatic.
When I heard his new album was coming out, I would go to the record store everyday and ask, "Is it here yet?" "No, it's not."
Mr. Pain in the Rear End.
Born to Run finally came and it was more than worth the wait. That album was the beginning of the Bruce we know now. After that, I must have seen him 50 times in concert.
Another thing was Clarence Clemons, or as Bruce called him, "Big Man!"
He was the sax player in the E Street Band, was six five, wore a white suit,
and played that sax like he invented it. But he was more than that to me. You see, Clarence was Black. Bruce treated him like a co-star. Go look at the now famous cover of
Born to Run and you'll see what I mean. For a young Black man who liked rock and roll, it was heaven to look onstage and see yourself looking back.
Yet another reason, in a long line of reasons, that I love me some Bruce Springsteen.
A story...
I was in a club in northern New Jersey to introduce Clarence Clemons and the Red Bank Rockers. It was right before Bruce's mega album, Born in the USA, was set to come out. Until that happened, Clarence had his own band going. The place was packed and I did the intro, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome..." and sat on an amp onstage to watch the show. During a lull between songs, the promoter said to me, "Don't leave." "What?" "DON'T LEAVE."
The band was doing an instrumental version of Bruce's song, "Fire." There was a drum break and then there he was. Bruce Springsteen. Cocking his head like, "Yeah, it's me." He snapped his guitar down and sang dramatically, "Romeo and Juliet, Samson and Delilah..."
The place went nuts.
Afterwards, back stage, I asked him about the new record. He demurred and politely said I would have to listen to it. Clutching for something, anything, I said, "How about the cover?" With a smile, he said,"You've got to see it to believe it!" I didn't know it was a picture of his butt!
Okay, there are a lot of stories about Bruce. This one's mine...
I talked to Bruce at the Grammys. He had won four of them all for the same song--"Streets of Philadelphia." That song would win him an Academy Award. I asked him what was going through his head that night. And he said, "Tonight I was thinking about the early days and how far we've come. I also thought about hope. And how we all need it."
Well said Mr. Springsteen.
I saw Bruce later at Sony Studios in New York. I was there rehearsing for a show I was doing and he was there with Patti, his wife. Springsteen fans know who she is. It was Patti, this time, in the recording booth. He looked like you would think he'd look. Jeans, boots, not the kind with pointy toes, and an overcoat. It was winter.
Not even dressed like the legend he was.
And is.
Huge crowds would watch the games.
The softball games and the tennis matches were played during the day with the charity dinner at night and it was at one of those events I met Joe DiMaggio.
The Yankee Clipper.
One of the greatest Yankees ever. Let's count them off. As far as legends go, there was the Babe, Lou Gehrig, Mickey Mantle and Joltin' Joe. Some people would throw Yogi Berra in with the legends, and I wouldn't argue with you, but the Mount Rushmore guys are the four I mentioned.
In baseball history, Joe's name is said in hushed tones. Three time Most Valuable Player with a slew of sterling statistics. Joe played on nine winning World Series teams, had that 56 game hitting streak, and is a Hall of Famer. Plus, don't forget, married Marilyn Monroe.
Michael sat me next to him at a dinner the night before the BIG charity dinner.
It was 1995 and the Yankees were in the playoffs. They were playing the Seattle Mariners and it seemed the game was on every television in the restaurant. Everyone wanted to talk baseball with Joe but he would have none of it. People would come up to the table and Joe's one word responses sent them away empty handed. It was kinda fun to watch.
I learned something that night.
Joe ordered Parmesan cheese. Not the kind most people sprinkle on their spaghetti but the real stuff. Parmesan cheese that came in chunks. He would dip it in olive oil before eating it. Joe was old school and I found myself ordering and doing the same. Copying Joe. I learned something else that night. Don't talk baseball with Joe DiMaggio. But what to do? I said to him, "I love the ties you wore. The ones I would see you wearing in pictures from when you played with the Yankees. Where'd you buy them?"
He smiled.
"Oh, I didn't buy them," Joe said. "People would send them to me. I used to spread them out on the bed in the hotel room to help me decide which one I would wear that day." "Well, I would look for ties like that to wear," I said. He smiled again. We spent the whole night talking about ties. When the evening ended I had made a new friend.
Cut ahead a year or so and I was at a BAT dinner at the Marriott Marquis hotel in Times Square. BAT stands for Baseball Assistance Team. Say, if a player (and not a star) dies, and his family is having trouble coming up with the money for a casket or if they have a big hospital bill to pay, BAT helps them out.
The place was crawling with Hall of Fame players.
I was the guest of one of my heroes, Hall of Fame pitcher, St. Louis Cardinal great Bob Gibson. How big a hero? One of my twins is Miles Gibson McEwen, for Bob. He doesn't drink beer or wine or hard liquor. But. Bob drinks champagne. So guess what we drank? And I'm getting looped. Around nine, before I got really toasted, I left. I had to get up at four in the morning.
I head out and was waiting at the elevator bank when one stopped and the doors opened. I was about to get in when I noticed there were four big bodyguards in it, and one of them said, "This car is taken." From behind them I hear a voice say, "No, he's alright."
Joe DiMaggio.
Before I could say anything, Joe added, "Nice tie."
#MarkMcEwen
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