Bronx Banter: Klapisch: Lasting Yankee Stadium Memory #29

Klap your hands say Wells!

There was no debate: a source is a source. I’m not sure I would’ve gone to jail to protect them, but luckily for me, I wasn’t facing a judge after the game, only Boomer, who was too impatient to wait at his locker. There he was, at the door outside the room, like some hired muscle working the rope at a night club.

“What’s it going to be, Bob,” he asked, closing in on my airspace.

“We’re done, Boomer,” I said, holding my ground.

“####### right we’re done,” Wells said, walking away. It was the last time we spoke, but that’s not to say the big lefty was finished with this story. In fact, he himself became the leak, repeating the incident to anyone and everyone – his teammates as well as the rest of
the League.

I watched with amusement about two weeks later, as Wells was standing with several Orioles during batting practice. He was roaring with laughter as he mimicked Steinbrenner’s most cutting remark – “no one wants your fat ass.”

Not true, of course. Wells’ career lasted another 10 years, but true to his word, he never spoke to me again. He had his principles, I suppose, I had mine. Someday in his retirement Wells might realize I was right. But I’m not holding my breath.