RMJ 116 June 11

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 11 ● Los Angeles, vs Dodgers

One day, many years ago, pitcher Tom Dukes was sitting in his locker, smoking, just prior to an early day game. He said he was having a Mexican breakfast: a cup of coffee and a cigarette. That image stuck with me. I think about it occasionally when I have to get out of bed and do something important right away.

This morning, we all met with Dad’s accountant and lawyer to discuss estate matters. I thought we were going to make decisions regarding the allocation of estate property. Instead, we got an overview of the plan and were left with the task of assigning assets.

As meetings go, I consider this one a waste of time and money. I shudder to think of the fees that we will pay for the two hours we spent talking strategy.

The gist of the matter is that they are the professionals, and they should make a recommendation and explain it to us so that we can either sign off on it or make adjustments. What we covered today should have taken no more than ten minutes on the telephone.

Not to worry. Dad left Mom with a nice nest egg. No matter what she does with it, it should allow her to live comfortably for the rest of her days.

The one thing that really bugged me was the IRA tax. Under current tax law, the $1.2 million that Dad saved for retirement will be taxed at about 75 percent. “You’d have about $300,000 to split once Uncle Sam took his share,” the lawyer told us.

This will not kill us, but it is killing families who have small businesses. The estate tax is so severe that they have to sell their businesses to pay the tax. Then they have to find new jobs. And this is supposed to be the greatest form of government in the world? Work all your life, pay taxes, save part of what is left for retirement and to pass along to your heirs. Give most of it back to the government when you die.

I understand there is talk of reforming the estate tax to help people with small businesses: farmers and the like. I hope they pass legislation to that effect before Mom dies. I think they will have ample time; she looks a lot better today. And she was attentive and alert during our meeting.

           

I saw my old broadcast partner, Dewayne Staats, at the ballpark today. He is covering the game for ESPN along with my old teammate, Dave Campbell. Dewayne’s wife, Dee, had a brain tumor removed about six months ago. She still hears ringing in her ears.  We are getting to the age where mortality taunts us. 

I’m hoping Dewayne finds his way back into our broadcast booth; I think he would like to get back to everyday work in baseball. It’s nice to do assignments for ESPN; it allows a little extra time at home in the summer, which is nice when you have young children. 

Dewayne and Dee have two girls, both lovely, both just a few years away from moving out of the house and into their own lives. He doesn’t need to be home as much in the summer anymore. Besides, the Astros are still his favorite team, just as they were when he was a young lad growing up in East Alton, Illinois.

 

Tonight’s game was all Dodgers. They pecked away at Mike Hampton, and finally chased him in the fifth inning. Mike did not appreciate being removed from the game in the fifth inning, behind 4-3 with a man on third and two outs.

If I had been pitching, I would want to stay in too.  After all, how much worse could it get? Your ERA is going up, regardless. If you get the next out, you have a chance to get lucky. The team might just have a big inning and make you a winner. Why not stay in?

In this case, it was because I did not have confidence in his ability to make good pitches. If he gets going, and starts pitching well, I’ll leave him in games like this. Ramón Garcia got the last out of the inning.     

Ramón, however, did not strand his own baserunners. Neither did Mike Magnante, nor Jose Lima. It was garbage time in the end. We never threatened to make it a game.

 

After the game, we took off for the LA airport. Got there about 12:15. It took an hour to get off the ground, though. We don’t fly American much, and I can see why. We had trouble on the other end too, standing around on the tarmac in Houston from 6 o’clock until 6:30.

Barry Waters was fit to be tied.

“I’m going to have to stop by church on the way home,” he said. “With some of the language I used on that guy, I’ll probably have to say a hundred Hail Marys.”

“Dennis Liborio was pretty loud too. I hope the girl who was unloading the bags didn’t hear him. I’m not sure he realized it was a girl.”

 

When we got to the Dome, I had one more job to do: send Ken Ramos back to the minors. We met in my office and talked briefly. He understood, and he was not mad, but he did want to know why I had not given him at least one start.

“I probably should have, Kenny,” I said. “But I’m a rookie manager, just like you’re a rookie player. Sometimes when you’re new in a job, you press a little bit. I think you were pressing a few times at the plate. It’s only natural.

“There were several times when I thought about writing your name on the lineup card. Each time, I thought about Gerry and Drayton. I don’t manage for the writers or the fans; I don’t care what they think. I do care about the general manager and the owner.

“If we were on a roll, winning 8 out of 10 or something like that, it would have been easy. But the way we have been struggling, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m sorry I didn’t get you in there. But don’t give up. I know you can hit big-league pitching, and you do too. We might need you later this year. And next year is expansion.

“You have conducted yourself like a true professional, and I appreciate your effort. Good luck. I hope to see you back here soon.”

As I left my office, Kenny was with Barry Waters, trying to get in touch with his wife so that she wouldn’t drive to Houston as planned, but wait for him in New Orleans instead. They weren’t having any luck. I fear she was already on the road.