I share these memories of who was a second father to me. and for many, occurred in the then-peaceful ensanche Naco of 40 years ago.
What kind of life, Roosevelt!
You met and passed through dozens and dozens of nations, you received the self-sacrificing love of your wife for more than half a century, you exercised the profession that you were passionate about and many will remember you as the best. And yet, those who cry for you today, don't do it for it. It's just that your heart was too big.
Four decades ago, when one of your favorite expressions resounded, “vamo a da palo”, in less than 10 minutes all the children of the sector had already left their houses with their gloves and went to the I went across the sidewalk to try to handle the forceful lines coming out of the log, mission impossible.
What surprised me the most was how your hits never broke a light bulb, nor a glass on the balconies, you put the ball where you wanted, you enjoyed yourself without harming anyone; That's how your life was, that of an ethical hedonist, the man who never wasted a good gathering or a moment of pleasure, without affecting his neighbor, like a gourmet philosopher who knew how to live the life of intense and spiritual way.
It's been a long time since I quit. from wondering how I could repay you for everything you did for me; I was not going to be able That seven-year-old boy who you went up with Roosvelin to the seventh sky of the Quisqueya stadium while you were transmitting could not believe he was there, and when the game ended and you took us to the When I came to the clubhouse to shake hands with Pedro Guerrero, Rafael Landestoy and other greats, introducing ourselves as adults, I was in the clouds. Then you showed up every week with a Manny Mota poster, signed by him, “To Gus, with my best wishes.” It was too much.
There are countless prints that I remember of you. There were many times that I saw you go out in that big, very blue Impala, the morning was still cool, when you took the wheel and gracefully extended your left arm and let it fall. That boy thought, “Here goes Roosevelt to hit the road, enjoying nature, receiving the caress of the breeze, thinking about how his voice and his wisdom are going to help the Azucareros win a championship.” , tomorrow there is also a game in La Romana, it will stay the same day. to sleep there, where they treat him well and he is loved, when he grows up he would like to be like him”.
Several times I found myself in trouble when, as a teenager, I went by bus to see a game at a stadium in the East, the game dragged on and there was no way to return to the capital, but your hand always appeared. ;magical, getting extra lodging at the Costa club or talking to the driver of the team that was playing in the capital the next day, coming with the players.
We are not few of us who were initiated into journalism by you, Roosevelt. One day you told me, "when you see the newspaper's Jeep parked in front of the house, you go with me, so you can exercise and practice. Needless to say, I took substantial advantage of the best professor I could have, in twenty subjects at the university I couldn't learn that much. Then came that great school that was the Major League Baseball chain La Grande, broadcasting every night along with other greats from your father's house.
One day I called you and asked if I could ;as presenting my book, being put into circulation the following day. You only answered me: “Bring it to me”, you read it to yourself in one night and the next day you were there, with your immaculate prose delighting everyone present. The problem would come later, when one had to speak after you; you always set the bar very high. Your speech has passed. From being the prologue to the second edition, it seemed that it had been written by a chess player of many years. Your business, Roosevelt.
Today my eyes are moist, but with the conviction that you are in a higher place, the one you earned. Good job, Roosevelt!