Bomber Bites with Billy Brost: Happy Birthday Whitey Ford!

Today marks the 86th birthday of the “Chairman of the Board.” Some may know him better as “Slick.” I know him as Mr. Ford, and today I wish to share my personal encounter with Edward “Whitey” Ford. Sure, we all know he was the ace of the dynasty Yankees’ teams of the 1950s an 1960s. We also know that he along with Mickey Mantle and Billy Martin, didn’t quite act as altar boys while in the Bronx either. 

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None of that mattered. Ford missed two full seasons at the very start of his career to serve our country–something that is rarely mentioned in this day and age of athletes doing everything BUT the right thing. If we were to tack on 34 more victories, or 17 each for the two seasons Ford missed, instead of retiring with 236 wins, he’s sitting at 270. How he appeared on only 284 of the 365 HOF ballots once again just shows why the system is broken, but enough about the player, I want to talk about the man.

Mandatory Credit: Chad R. MacDonald.

It was back in the summer of 2003, and I was still living in Beaverton, Oregon, completing my Associate’s degree in Computer Information Systems. I was living alone, and just trying to fly under the radar. My mother and her new husband, my stepfather, lived in Las Vegas, Nevada. My stepfather had been a cabbie in Sin City for over 20 years, and was a diehard San Francisco Giants’ fan. He worshiped Willie Mays, and had never seen a World Series victory for his team that he could remember. The closest was the previous season, when the Giants choked away the series to the Angels.

Anyway, my mother and stepfather thought it would be fun to fly my daughter out from New Jersey, and me down from Oregon to celebrate my birthday in August. I said, sure why not. So we all met down there, and planned on spending several days. Once we arrived, we swam, went out to dinner, and caught up.

For me though, the biggest surprise was yet to come. My stepfather informed me that he and I were going to the Stardust Hotel and Casino for an event that he thought I would enjoy. I was always game for an adventure, so Mom and my daughter Alexa, went shopping, Gary and I headed to the strip.

Once we arrived, he handed me a ticket and said “Happy Birthday Billy Boy!” I looked down and it was an admission ticket to a card and memorabilia show highlighted by a signing panel featuring…you guessed it, Whitey Ford! Bob Gibson, Dodgers’ shortstop Bill Russell, the great Maury Wills, and the following day, was going to be Giants great Juan Marichal. My stepfather, being the loyal Giants fan he was, had to talk a little smack with Wills, who gave it right back. It was a hoot! I was giddy with excitement and nervous beyond belief. I had listened to my father tell stories about the greatness of Ford and Mantle my entire childhood. My Dad grew up a Yankees fan of that era, and left them when George Steinbrenner bought the team.

So, with ball and pen, I get in line, as Whitey is at the furthest end of the panel. The line slowly moves up, as fans of different teams move along, getting balls, pictures, jerseys and the like signed. Then it happened. I was next in line, decked out in my pinstriped jersey, and my throwback Yankees cap. The usher hollered “Next!” and I was on. I walked through the line, shaking hands and saying hello to each player until I reached the end of the table. There he sat. The greatest pitcher in New York Yankees’ history. A living legend. I broke out in a cold sweat, I began to shake, and I couldn’t speak.

Myself and Whitey Ford at the Stardust, August, 2003.

Whitey, being the congenial and friendly person that he was, smiled and said “Come on over here young man, have a seat and let’s talk.” I was beside myself. Whitey had the show coordinator bring a folding chair over and sat it down next to him at the table, which didn’t please the money-grubber who didn’t give a crap about one fan’s once in a lifetime experience. Whitey said, “Sit down, tell me about yourself.”

I’m sure he had heard it all before. I told him about my Dad growing up rooting for he and Mantle and Martin, how I grew up a fan of Don Mattingly, and how much of an honor it was for him to take time with me. A middle-aged woman was sitting behind him. She said, “Do you have any children that are Yankees’ fans too?” I said “Yes, as a matter of fact, she is here visiting from New Jersey.” At that point, both her and Whitey’s face lit up and they said “Where in New Jersey?” and I replied “Fair Lawn”.

They couldn’t believe what they had heard, as Whitey’s daughter at that point in time, lived in Hawthorne. It’s a small world. We continued to chat for about 20 more minutes, and the line began to swell. Whitey signed a ball and a picture for me, and handed me a small piece of paper and said “Keep this to yourself kid, and whatever you want, send it here.” I didn’t look at the paper until I got back to my Mom’s house. Before we left, my stepfather came into the area, snapped several photos of Whitey and I, and before we left, Whitey shook my hand, pulled me close and gave me a hug. He said “Thanks for keeping our history alive young man.” On the piece of paper, was his daughter’s mailing address in Fair Lawn, and said “mail anything you wish here, -Whitey”

My late stepfather and I, right after our baseball adventure!

It was the thrill of a lifetime. To this day, I get goosebumps when I think about it and discuss it. I think it’s somewhat ironic, that today is Whitey’s 86th birthday, and the World Series involving the Giants begins tonight as well. See, my stepfather never got to see the recent success of his lifelong love. A couple years later, he was diagnosed with colorectal cancer, and lost his battle with the disease at the age of 57 back in 2008. So every time the Giants reach, I hope that Gary is looking down and enjoying every minute of it.

I want to take today to say Happy Birthday to Mr. Ford. Thank you sir for taking the time out of your busy schedule to make my birthday something I will never, ever forget, and a thought sent out to my late stepfather Gary Hight, who treated me like his own son, and made sure that I was able to meet greatness in person, and to enjoy a baseball moment with me all our own.