The New York Times - USA (2020-06-28)

THE NEW YORK TIMES, SUNDAY, JUNE 28, 2020 +MB 3

Then Those Punches Flew

Readers responded at nytimes.com to
David Margolick’s article last Sunday about
a legendary brawl in 1957 at the Copaca-
bana (supposedly) involving New York
Yankees. Comments have been edited.

BACK IN THE ’80S,I was a reporter working

on a story about bringing baseball back to
Washington, so I went to Major League
Baseball’s winter meeting in a ritzy hotel in
Miami. I was amazed at the ex-players who
were there: Hank Aaron, Yogi Berra...
and Billy Martin. I was at the crowded bar
having a drink and looking around for
players. When I turned to my right, Martin
was standing next to me shoulder to shoul-
der, alone, hunched over a beer. I had a jolt

of adrenaline; he didn’t look too happy, and
I thought if I bumped into him the wrong
way or tried to start a conversation, he’d
throw a punch.
I just stood there looking ahead until
finally he looked over and said, “How’s it
going?” Believe me, I breathed a big sigh of
relief. He turned out to be the nicest guy,
and we had a regular conversation. Old
rumors die hard. Billy wasn’t the bad guy

people made him out to be, even in a bar.

KEITH GIRARD, NEW YORK

I WAS AT THE COPAthat night with a friend
to see Sammy Davis Jr. I had been a Co-
pacabana singer and dancer previously and
Sammy used to visit me and my former
husband, David Wolper, when we lived in
Hollywood. I knew Yogi Berra, since his
mom and my mom were friends and he
lived around the corner from us on the
Italian Hill in St Louis. Yogi used to get
seats for all the Copa girls to Yankee Sta-

dium once in a while. The crowd used to

whistle and yell out when we walked in all

decked out. Yogi and Joe Garagiola (our

other neighbor on the “Hill”) were also on

the Johnny Carson show with me when I

performed.

“Nobody did nothin’ to nobody” sounds

just right. If there had been any disturb-

ance like that at the Copa, the people in-

volved were picked up fast and the table

was picked up fast and in a blink of an eye

were gone. After my stint at the Copa, I got

a job singing at Lou Walters Latin Quarter

but always checked out the shows at the

Copa when I had time.

TONI CARROLL, NEW YORK CITY

AH, THE COPA!November 1948 my aunt, a

nun at a girls Catholic High School in

Brooklyn, arranged a blind date for me

with one of her students. “She’s nice, and it

won’t cost you anything.” We were at the

prom at the Waldorf for a half-hour when

we left for the Copacabana. Jimmy Durante

was the attraction. We were on the Burma

Road, walls on two sides, when I heard a

familiar voice over my shoulder. “Where

you kids from?” It was Durante. “You

oughta be near the action!” We were

moved, all eight of us, to the action, where

Jimmy tore up the piano. Great time, great

guy.

JOHN G. AICHER, SOUTHOLD, N.Y.

READING THIS ARTICLE,I can hear the

home run battle between Mickey Mantle

and Roger Maris being played out on a

transistor radio in 1960 while watching my

father and my Uncle Pete drink beer out of

a cooler on a hot summer day at the New

Jersey shore.

RAUL, NEW HAMPSHIRE

I GREW UP IN THE 1950S.We lived for base-

ball. Copacabana? Anybody got his card?

The players were like family. They signed

and stayed with the same team for most of

their careers. When somebody was traded,

it was like a friend died. The game wasn’t

about money, it was about the game and

that made it special. Now, players need

names on the back of their uniforms so we

can keep track of who’s on “our” team.

Sure, there were problems out there and

there still are, but summer and baseball

were what we lived for and I really miss

that.

CHAUNCEY GARDNER, THE GREAT FLYOVER

THE YANKEE LEGENDS.Back in the day

when players were regular guys.

JOHN ZOTTO, BENNINGTON, VT.

KIND OF WISH I KNEWthis stuff about Billy

Martin when he was alive. Seems like he

was much more as a person than the col-

orful caricature that we were given as kids

— back in the days when he was managing

the Yanks. As a black kid back then, kind of

cool to know he fought (figuratively) for

one of us.

KEVIN, LOS ANGELES

READER COMMENTS

NEW YORK DAILY NEWS ARCHIVE

Ginia Bellafante’s Big City column will return
next week.

Space Saver

DEAR DIARY:
I was walking in Manhattan with my
family when we noticed a man standing in
the street near the curb on the opposite
side, blocking a car that wanted to take
the space. We figured he was trying to
save the space for someone who was
circling the area.
We watched as the car edged forward
toward the man, who stood his ground.
After almost touching him, the driver of
the car, obviously furious, gave up and
zoomed away.
At that point, my brother crossed over
and stood in the street at a distance from
the man who was saving the space.
“Do you mind if I double park,” my
brother said.

ROBERT GOLDSTEIN

Empty Seat

DEAR DIARY:
The bus was crowded when my sister
Joan and I got on. Standing room only. We
grabbed an overhead rail and hung on.
At 42nd Street, many of the passengers
got off, and we were lucky to grab two
seats together right behind the driver
before a new crowd boarded.
As the bus, now filled again with stand-
ing riders, proceeded, I noticed that the
seat next to the one where Joan was sit-
ting was empty.
One after another, passengers ap-
proached the empty seat, looked down and
moved on.
Strange, I thought. Then I looked more
closely and saw the reason: There was a
ripe banana in the middle of the seat.
I nudged Joan and warned her that an
unobservant person might come along and
just plop down on the seat. If that hap-
pened, I said, she could wind up with
banana purée all over her clothes.
She picked the banana up carefully and
placed it on the window ledge behind the
seat. Someone sat there immediately.
We got off at 21st Street. The banana
continued on downtown.

MARIE KING

Maximum Efficiency

DEAR DIARY:

Walking in New York requires constant

calculations. I treat every movement from

point A to point B as an exercise in maxi-

mum efficiency.

I make it sort of a game: the pace I

must keep to reach my destination in

time; how far I can stand from the curb

without endangering myself; how long a

stride or jump to avoid a hole or puddle.

I work in Midtown and pass through

Grand Central Terminal at least twice a

day. It’s an area where such calculations

are essential to avoiding close calls, minor

collisions or simply awkward moments.

Not long ago, I was walking near 46th

Street and Park Avenue. There was a man

walking alongside me, and we were keep-

ing the same brisk pace.

I noticed that four people were heading

our way. Three of them adjusted their

trajectories to avoid us, while one, a wom-

an, continued to walk directly toward the

man next to me.

Did she plan to walk between us? Would

she collide with him in a moment of pain

and awkwardness? The moment of truth

was inches away. I prepared for impact.

And then they kissed. It wasn’t a miscal-

culation after all.

JAMES L. ANSORGE

At the Library

DEAR DIARY:

It was December 2018, and I was walking

through Bedford-Stuyvesant after a job

interview when my phone rang.

It was a man from the company where I

had just interviewed. He asked if I could

update my résumé. The layout was wrong,

and some of the text I had included as part

of my profile was superfluous, he said.

I didn’t have a computer and hadn’t

even found an apartment yet, and he

needed a final draft within the hour.

Desperate, I entered the public library

on Franklin Avenue near Hancock Street.

The woman at the front desk said that I

couldn’t use the computers without a

library card and that I couldn’t apply for a

card without an address. When I ex-

plained the dire nature of my situation,

she stood up from her computer.

“Use mine,” she said.

As she and the people who were lined

up waiting to check out books cheering me

on and offering to review my work, I

edited the document and fired it off.

Nine months later, I was working in my

dream job.

SAM VAN ROON

On Pleasant Avenue

DEAR DIARY:

I was waiting to cross Pleasant Avenue

going east toward Costco. I noticed an

attractive young man and woman on the

other side waiting to cross in my direction.

They didn’t have the light, but the

young man kept trying to cross anyway.

The young woman, mindful of the traffic

that was approaching from the north and

south, kept holding him back.

When the light finally changed, we all

began to cross the avenue. As I passed the

couple, I heard the young man speak.

“This is the most awkward Tinder date,”

he said. “I’m going to delete this app.”

KATHLEEN B. HASKINS

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ILLUSTRATIONS BY AGNES LEE

Metropolitan Diary

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