My Buddy Dave

My buddy Dave Anderson finally got around to responding to the letter I sent him a while ago announcing my blog.

I'm able to say "buddy" because Dave and I somewhat co-wrote one of his columns in 1994 when he used a letter I wrote him as a large basis for his column, It's Not Going to Be A Baseball Christmas. The letter was written about the then hockey and baseball strikes. Dave's column appeared, with a fair part of my letter, fully attributed, in his column that was published in the Sunday Times--on Christmas Day. Not exactly the best of news days for me, but it remains a thrill of a lifetime.

Every so often we'd trade letters about hockey, or baseball, nothing much, and nothing that frequent. Dave is certainly capable of hatching his own ideas. Once he called me up on Travers Day to tell me the answer to something I asked about the "fourth estate." Dave's not a horse racing guy (Red Smith was) but when he called I did have to tell him he must have brought me luck because I had just hit the exacta. I think I received his call before the result was even official.

I did write him a few years ago about Dick Schaap and how in Schaap's latest book you couldn't drop more names if you were to shove the Manhattan phone directory onto the floor. Schaap was hospitalized and died not long after his book was published, Flashing Before My Eyes.

I also mentioned to Dave at the time that I was lucky enough to get down from the 29th floor of One World Trade on that day of days, 9/11. Dave thanked me for getting down from there. He wasn't the only one happy to hear that news. That letter is framed and I'm looking at it now.

So, it only seemed natural that I told him of my blog and if he's interested, would he digest a few of the sports-centered entries. I think I wrote Dave around the time Johansson passed away.

It took Dave a bit of time to answer--after all, he is retired now, only writing an occasional gem for Sunday's paper--but when I saw the envelope yesterday I immediately knew who it was from: my buddy Dave.

Typewritten print is quite distinctive these days, and quite honestly, Dave needs a new ribbon, if he can find one. If he ever does detour into ransom notes, however, they'll nail him in an instant. His letter is on Times stationery, with the old West 43rd Street address. (Dave shows Green to us.) Apparently, however, he can resist the Web. He writes:

Dear John:

Just a note of thanks for your thoughtful letter about your new career as a...blogger. [I think he got choked up there.]

Please forgive me, but I spend enough time reading what newspapers are still among us. I prefer to turn the pages of the Times every morning rather than turn on my computer.

Thanks again...and keep blogging.

Best,

Dave Anderson

Dave, just keep writing. We'll get you a ribbon.

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