The one I’m liking most is about the album cover, which was just extraordinary. . . . One’s about famous people and artists from all walks of life talking about how the album influenced their lives. I have three books about the 50th anniversary of Sergeant Pepper. But I needed to get away from baseball for a few years. SI: Does your life equal boredom and loneliness? I’m guessing no.
RUSTY STAUB FREE
SI VAULT: He's Still Not Home Free (), by William Nack If someone would have asked me, ‘When you’re 63 you want to be doing 110 games broadcasting?’ I would have said, ‘Absolutely not. Below are outtakes from a sprawling road trip conversation, lightly edited for length and clarity. On this day, though, he spends the drive in conversation, his breadth of interests on vivid display. Mostly, Hernandez is happy for the time alone with his thoughts. He tries to stay off his phone and within the speed limit-though one suspects that most cops in Suffolk County would glimpse that moustache and downgrade a ticket to a warning. He tries to appreciate the beauty of the scenery. Hernandez makes the drive to the 55 Met home games he calls each season. It’s 86 miles from Southampton to Citi Field. “I’m just another guy,” he says, “who likes his job and doesn’t like his commute.” By his own happy admission, his is a world removed from his bright-lights-big-city 1980s existence. He lives on a quiet cul-de-sac a few blocks from the ocean. He’s no longer sitting across from Keith Richards or schmoozing with Jack Nicholson or, for that matter, being asked to play himself on Seinfeld. The symbolism is unmistakable: Hernandez wears his dorky employee badge because he no longer self-identifies as a star. Hours before he’s due at work on an aggressively hot July day, when Hernandez opens the door to greet a visitor, he is already wearing his Mets employee ID on a lanyard around his neck. “Do you know who I am?” may be the celebrity’s lament Hernandez takes no chances.
0 kommentar(er)
