Now I’m the Old Guy

When I was growing up my Dad and I would have long, drawn-out arguments about the athletes I was watching and the ones he grew up watching.

Dad loved Reggie and Thurman and Mattingly...

...but they weren’t Mantle or Maris or Yogi.

Ron Guidry wasn’t as great as Whitey Ford.

And on and on and on.

No way to actually compare or win the argument.

My boys are intent on proving to me that Wilt Chamberlain would be ‘just another big guy’ these days.

“He wasn’t even as good as Shaq!” They yell.

Thing is, I saw Wilt and Shaq both play, and it wasn’t close.

“Wilt played against little, white accountants,” they scream.

“Like Jabbar? The all-time leading scorer?”

Yesterday, Jake asked:

“Who was better A-Rod or Jeter?”

“Jeter,” I said, without hesitation.

“So dumb,” Jake said. Then he started reading off the stats. “A-Rod got more homers, drove in more runs, more gold gloves.”

“But Jeter was just a better player,” I said. “It’s hard to describe.”

Jake hit me with more stats.

“Okay,” I said. “Bases loaded, two outs, down a run. Who would you rather have at bat? Jeter or A-Rod?”

Jake didn’t answer, but my brothers and friends did.

“Jeter.”

It was unanimous.

“You have to admit that players are bigger, stronger and faster now,” Jake said.

“No one has ever hit a ball as far as Mantle,” I said.

It wasn’t lost on me...

...that I was taking the side...

...of my Dad.

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