It's Do or Die,' and you know how to take it to the end.' " When he played those two years at East, he became acquainted with the other big stars, including Hank Aaron and Willie Mays, and as an older player, he saw them as role models. It is easy to speculate on how much he wished he had lived in those days and played on the big league team. "It's been over a million years since I played in the majors," he said, "but I think it would have been kind of fun." He smiled when he recalled the old days and the famous ballparks. He remembered the Yankees playing in old Yankee Stadium, and he even recalled Babe Ruth sitting in the dugout at spring training. "I always wanted to meet him," he said. "I looked him up on the Internet, but I couldn't get a real good picture of him. I talked to my daughter about it, and she told me that I had made him up." When he retired, he received a hero's welcome from all the players who are part of the Atlanta Braves. The Braves gave him a special plaque to commemorate his time with the team. The team even gave him a cap with number 33 on it, and as a special honor, they had it delivered in a padded envelope, just as if it was from an opposing team. It was delivered by a postal worker from the area where he lived. When the former star took off the cap, the postal worker saw his bald head, and as a gag, he went to the window and told the other postal workers in the office what he was doing. "They kept calling me 'Mr. Yastrzemski,' " he said. He also recalled the time in 1963 when the Braves played a regular season game at Yankee Stadium and there was an invitation-only dinner for baseball's Hall of Fame members, including Yastrzemski and Roberto Clemente. "I'll never forget that dinner," he said. "What a night that was. I could hear [Boston Red Sox owner] Tom Yawkey say, 'We're a private club, and we don't want colored people.' " He said that Yawkey made the remark, and there was silence from everyone at the table. "Roberto didn't say a word," he said. "He was too good to say anything. I just knew he was thinking of Hank [Aaron], and what happened to him. I felt a lot of empathy for him." That dinner made it hard for Yastrzemski to celebrate the team's World Series victory in 1983. After all of those years of suffering from racism, he felt an incredible amount of pain when he saw that Boston fans did not give all of the credit to the Red Sox. "I remember going to games in Boston after the series was over, and fans were walking around wearing those Red Sox caps," he said. "I felt a lot of anger toward them, too. It's been a long time, but it still hurts when you lose a game you worked so hard to win." He recalled what the Boston team did in 1983, when the Red Sox celebrated their first world championship since 1918. He was asked to give the players their gifts, and when the player from whom he was to receive a gift became upset, he gave the player some advice: "You got your first championship, now keep your mouth shut, and don't do it again." On the other hand, he recalled his days on the baseball field in Boston as some of the best times of his life. "I can't believe I played there for 10 years," he said. "I was really lucky to play there for those 10 years." When he was talking about the Red Sox's World Series win, he gave that advice to young players. "They can't stop you," he said. "You just have to keep working. Don't let it get in your head, because if you get mad or depressed, you lose your game. You just have to keep working." He looked at me with a smile on his face and told me that he wouldn't change his career for anything. "I think we're making more money in this area than we would have made in the majors," he said. "I think the grass is greener, but it's still grass." Then, a day later, he and his wife visited the famous Braves' museum at Turner Field in Atlanta. He walked around the great rooms and the memorabilia displays, but there was one thing he did not like. He told me that he was not too fond of how the Braves had included Jackie Robinson in their displays. "They should have just left him out of it, just because I'm his grandson," he said. Of course, Yastrzemski wanted to be there, and he was not one to complain. When we parted ways, we shook hands, and I told him that I appreciated his time. "I like your outfit," he said. "It's not as bad as Hank Aaron's outfit." As we were leaving, we walked toward his son, Mike, who was also living in Atlanta. In addition to my interview with Hank, I had heard stories about him, and so I asked him to tell me a little about Hank's childhood and his athletic career. "I was one of six children," he said. "Hank was my big brother, and the youngest boy, David, was my half-brother. I know some of his big league statistics, but I've never met him." I had looked him up on the Internet, and I knew that he had been married, had two sons, and even had grandchildren, but he had never mentioned anything about them. "I'm surprised that you have grandchildren," I said. "I'm only surprised that you found out about them," he said. "The kids never mentioned anything." After a moment, he said, "I only ever saw Hank in person a few times. One of them was at his funeral. The Yankees played the Braves in July 2001 in Atlanta. I was there for the game, and Hank was their guest in the ballpark. I saw him after that, and we talked. He was on his best behavior then. We talked about baseball. That's all he wanted to talk about." I asked if I could get a photo of him with Hank. He didn't have any objection to it. "He would probably like that," he said. "He was a shy kid, and the media made him nervous. I know he was nervous at that funeral." As the afternoon was getting late, I decided to leave them and told them that I was glad to have met them. "Don't mention that you heard about my grandchildren," he said. "They know how to keep secrets." I asked them about where they might go for dinner in Buckhead, and Hank told me that there was a place called Friesian's that might be good. So I told them that I would get us a reservation at the restaurant. "I hope they play rap music at the restaurant," he said. "I like rap music." After that, I walked back down the sidewalk in the hot sun and looked up at the beautiful Buckhead skyline. It had been a very pleasant afternoon. When I got home, I checked my cell phone, and I had received an e-mail message. # **_The Rookie_** One afternoon in March 2008, when I walked out of the bathroom in my home, I passed the entrance to our hallway and saw a familiar face on television. I saw it every time I turned on the television. There was a young man with great power and strength wearing a Red Sox uniform. I had already been following and following his career, and I was very interested in watching him pitch. As I watched his face, it was easy for me to understand how he made his grandmother feel when he was a little boy. It was easy to understand how he could have received such an award after such a difficult time in his life. He is a talented pitcher who was born into a poor family in Alabama. He had six siblings and his father died in his childhood. His mother had to work two jobs to make ends meet, and she raised her family the same way that she had been raised, without much money. When the kids in Alabama played baseball, the kids would sometimes let him use their bats and glove, and he played the game like his heroes, Satchel Paige and Willie Mays. He became one of the premier pitchers in the major leagues in the last few years. It is an amazing story. I wondered if I should call my son. The pitcher's name is Mike Yastrzemski, and he lives with his wife in Atlanta, Georgia. It was a long time ago when I saw him for the first time, and I wondered how he would respond if I ever called. The following summer, in April 2008, I asked some questions about the young Yastrzemski, and Hank Aaron agreed to meet with me. The interview was at the baseball hall of fame at the Henry C. Chambers Center in Atlanta. We went into a small room off the main hall that had a large picture of Aaron on the wall