“So put me on a highway…”
Dateline: Southern Open #3, Douglas Lake
“A gentleman is one who puts more into the world than he takes out.”
~ George Bernard Shaw
He came to every game I ever played as a child.
Uncle Jim.
Easily the biggest male role model in my life.
He sat in the stands reading the Buffalo Courier Express throughout the game. I’m not really sure he ever actually saw me play, he told me he didn’t much care for sports, cared more about me, “I’m here for the Root Beer, Donnie.”
Talks about life always smell of Root Beer to me, even now.
I was all county Little League Short Stop AND Pitcher. Later in life when that came up once he looked shocked, he never even knew but was in the stands every time I took to the diamond.
“…here for the Root Beer, Donnie.”
I played for Debolt Garage, and later, Lincoln Park Pharmacy in the Town of Tonawanda, N.Y. (a 3-wood from the Buffalo city line). Got coached some on the bench, the real coaching came at a picnic table in Lincoln Park.
“How did you do today?” That from a guy who sat through every inning.
“Great.” From a kid opening a bruised and rusty green and white ice-filled Coleman Ice Chest.
And that was the wrong answer, Uncle Jim never cared how I “did” on the field, he only cared how I “was” on the field.
Somehow he knew that when I hit the ball I ran the bases looking at the pitcher, that when I pitched I looked right into the batter’s eyes, knew all that while sitting on the top bleacher bench reading.
Uncle Jim never threw me a ball, never showed me how to slide, he was my greatest coach in life.
After every game we would sit and he would tell me of great men and their great deeds, some were athletes, most were not, “…but Donnie they all are gentlemen, play the game, whatever that game may be, play it like a gentleman.”
A respectful man who never played a sporting event in his life, he somehow knew how the games should be played, how those who play the game should act.
Every athlete I have ever covered, sometimes from sitting up on the top bleacher bench myself, every athlete I watch I do so with Uncle Jim eyes.
Play hard, but play right, be a gentleman to the game and your opponent.
Bass angler, and my friend, Guy Eaker, plays the game the Uncle Jim way.
As a gentleman.
With fire, with passion, with respect.
I miss Uncle Jim, when I close my eyes he is the father I see, the one who one day will be waiting for me, he never left me without saying, “Love you, Donnie,” even though I was a grown man with a child.
He never saw me as a sportswriter.
Never read a word I wrote, he passed away one night in Erie County Hospital in Buffalo, I was with him that morning.
Brought him the Courier Express and a Root Beer.
Sat by his hospital bed and talked all morning until he drifted off into a sleep that I’m told he never woke from.
I know that last day when he looked into my eyes, all he saw was the skinny kid with a Lincoln Park Pharmacy baseball cap and dust covered cheeks.
I know because he told me the same thing he always told me as I got out of his car when he dropped me back home after a game.
“Be a gentleman Donnie, once the game is over the King and the Pawn both go back in the same box.”
And then he went to sleep.
“…and show…”
“A legend is an old man with a cane known for what he used to do. I’m still doing it.”
~ Miles Davis
“Your Uncle Jim was a wise man,” and with that Guy Eaker cocks his head to one side, stirs his water with lemon and smiles.
It is 5 p.m., day 2 of practice here on Douglas Lake, he has been on the water since dawn, we are sitting in a booth in an almost empty restaurant, his cotton fishing shirt is pressed, his pants are pressed and creased, his shoes are shined, not a hair is out of place, I’m sure the few other customers in the joint think that nice tall tanned man is trying to help that long haired homeless looking dude.
Guy Eaker is a friend, is on my top 10 lists of favorite athletes I’ve ever met. Top 6 actually.
Guy is in the Bass Fishing Hall Of Fame, 10 times in the Bassmaster Classic, Angler of the Year, 291 Bass Tournaments. Born and raised in Cherryville, N.C., “the greatest place to live in the world,” been tournament bass fishing since 1975, “was the North Carolina state champion.”
In the back of my head I hear the whistling tune for The Andy Griffith Show.
“Guy, I grew up a city kid in Buffalo, N.Y., all those black and white years when I was young watching Andy of Mayberry in North Carolina, I was 6, maybe 8, was a huge fan of North Carolina even though I had no idea where it was…”
Guy nods, politely listens.
“…so I’m believing all this Andy, Barney, Opie and Aunt Bee stuff, fast forward 30-some years, I’m a reporter in California and get to meet and interview Sherriff Andy, tell him what an influence the show was to a city kid especially the dad walking in the woods and fishing with his son…”
Guy is just sitting listening, a big man with a gentle heart.
“…and Andy tells me, thank you and then says they shot that whole outdoor open in some park in Los Angeles.”
Guy just nods his head, “Yep.”
And then I say exactly this to him, “Thank you for being the real Andy of Mayberry for me, you’ve been that since the moment I met you almost 10 years ago, you embodied what that show was to a kid, kindness, a gentleman, compassion and…”
“…and I’m in color.”
“…me a sign…”
Guy left the Elites a few years ago, “…to take care of my wife, Pat, she was going through some medical issues, confined to a wheel chair, sick, needed me to step up as a husband so I left to take care of her, I didn’t retire, looking back I should have taken a medical leave, but I didn’t and now that she is healthy again I’m fishing the Opens to qualify to come back to the Elites.”
Across from me sits a man, 6 foot, 2 inches tall, weighs 200 pounds, lean, no fat, “I exercise every day, my cholesterol is 156, cut out all that fried and fatty stuff eat salads now,” takes “only” two pills a day, works his 2-acre Cherryville garden with “500 azaleas and 52 dogwood trees,” every day.
And is 76 years old.
I can count the men of wisdom in my life on my fingers, I need all fingers of both hands, I’m lucky in that aspect. Guy sits in order about the ring finger of my right hand because of the group, he is flat out, The Gentleman.
“I was raised to have manners, taught always to be nice, nice don’t hurt you none, nice comes back to you, being a jerk also comes back to you as well. I prefer nice coming back.”
Born in 1939, “In a mill factory company owned home,” in Cherryville, “lived all my life right there where I’m at,” both parents worked full-time in the mill, “my father worked the first shift, came home and my mother would then cook dinner and go off and work the second shift in the same mill.”
In time, “they saved enough to buy their own home across the street from the mill.”
“My two kids, Guy Jr., now 56, daughter Carla, 52, both graduated from the same high school I did.” That would be Cherryville High where Guy lettered in football, basketball and baseball, “graduated in 1958, had 48 people in the class, 35 or so are still alive and we get together regularly.”
It is also where he met the love of his life.
“..and take it…”
“It was 10th grade, I’m walking down the hall and I see this beautiful girl walking past me and I say who the h-e-l-l is that…”
And yes, this 76-year-old man JUST SPELLED OUT HELL rather than say it to me, spelled it, and when I asked him why he did that, “…not polite to cuss, wasn’t raised to be rude, not mannerly.”
Softly, Andy of Mayberry whistles in my head.
Turns out that beautiful young girl was Pat, years later they were married, been married now for 56 years. Guy has an 80-or-so-year-old sister, Earlene, who has some medical issues and lives with him and Pat, “we got the room,” and “it ain’t no trouble to have her with me, if not she would be in a nursing home or something and that’s not going to happen.”
I just listen, “We are good Christian people you know, I still go to the same church I went to as a child. Earlene is my sister, whatever she needs, my parents taught me to be a caring person, taught my kids the same.”
As I’m writing down the notes I catch someone standing by our table and I look up and just as I’m about to say we don’t need anything, “Mr. Eaker, Guy Eaker,” it turns out not to be a waiter, but a fan, “…you don’t know me but back in 1989, my first fishing tournament, my first day on the water I drew you, and I just want to thank you for being so kind to me that day, it meant so much, meant everything really.”
I swear to God that happened, turns out the man’s name is Todd Lee, thatfirst tourney was on Lake Guntersville, and he has never, “forgot being in the boat with Mr. Eaker.”
Anyone else I would suspect a plant, some sort of joke.
But not with this man, not The Gentleman sitting across from me.
Nope.
“..to the limit…”
“Courtesy is as much a mark of a gentleman as courage.”
~President Theodore Roosevelt
“This little ole guy sure got to see the world through fishing, not bad for the son of two mill workers.”
Not bad at all, in 1992 his hometown of Cherryville, N.C., had a Guy Eaker Day.
“Tell me some wisdom my friend, tell me some wisdom, help me be wise.”
Guy is sipping his coffee, tells me, “I’m worried about this country,” of which I say, “me too,” then “not sure I know anything wise to tell you, ‘cept everything always begins and ends with nice.”
Everything begins with and ends with nice.
Wisdom always comes in short sound bites, short sentences.
“You can be competitive and be nice, be proper out there, yeah I want to win, but never, never at any cost. Just do your job, no hot dogging or acting up, not respectful, respect for others is the same as being nice.”
Respect others, treat others right and it comes back. “You know db, when I left the Elites those years ago I never lost a sponsor, not then, not now, still have all the same sponsors still have all the same deals as I did back then.”
Everything begins and ends with nice.
I wish, we had a Senior Tour, an All-Star Game or Legends League.
Take nothing from those who play the game today, but it wouldn’t hurt the sport none to have yesterday take to the field.
Wouldn’t hurt the young none.
You can be smart and you can be wise and I’ll take wise any day.
I’ll take kindness.
I’ll take respect.
I’ll take nice.
For once the game is over, the wise, the kind, The Gentlemen amongst us know, the king, and the pawn, go back to the same box.
Choose nice.
“…one more time.”
Take It To The Limit
The Eagles
db
“It’s what you learn after you know it all that counts.”
~Coach John Wooden