An e-mail: Rich, old bean, ’tis a sad day for real Yankee fans. Hank Bauer has gone to the great Bullpen in the Sky. Pat Buchanan may have gotten himself hopelessly waylaid somewhere along the line when it comes to American geo-politics and national/international security, but in this paean to the great Rock of Right Field, Hank Bauer and the other 50s Yanks, he nails it perfectly, bim! on the head. Back in the old (pre-’74) Yankee Stadium, the outfield walls were much lower than they are now, and I once saw Bauer with his back to the right field wall, jump up to rob some poor Tiger turkey (Tiger turkey? whatever…) of a homer, to land plomp in the ample lap of a woman sitting in the front Right Field box seat. I kid you not, he even doffed his cap to her as he untangled himself from the fraught and potentially delicate imbroglio, amidst tumultuous cheering all around. He was a great man. The greatest clutch hitter I ever saw (even better than Hector Lopez). Decorated Marine, Iwo Jima and all. Tougher than him you really don’t want to contemplate. After he retired, he bought and ran a successful liquor store in Kansas City (where he’d apparently laid down roots when he played in the minors there), which I once (don’t ask what the hell I was doing in Kansas City) had the pleasure of patronizing. (Unfortunately, he wasn’t there, or I might still be there, shooting the you know what with him….) They really don’t make ‘em like him anymore….