Close-Up With Casey Stengel

By ROBERT C. SAMUELS

Dear Diary:

It is 1950, and I'm 12 years old. I'm at the Stadium to see a game with my father. There's a rain delay, but when they finally start rolling up the tarp, my father lets me go down to the Yankees' dugout to try to get some autographs. A short while later I'm on my way back, a huge grin on my face.

“Whose autograph did you get?” my dad wants to know.

“No one, but Casey Stengel spoke to me!” I shout.

“He did? What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Get the hell out of here, kid!'”

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