THE MICK'S FIRST HIGH

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THE MICK'S FIRST HIGH

By Chris Miller

A couple of decades ago, Joe Pepitone wrote a book about

his experiences playing first base and outfield for the New

York Yankees from 1962 through 1969. It was called "Joe,

You Coulda Made Us Proud," and is currently out of print.

Good book, at least for Yankee fans such as myself.

Joe was one of the first "sixties" ball players. That is to say, he was a fun-loving, longhaired, crazy motherf#(er who was endlessly startling the more staid pre-sixties ballplayers, who didn't know quite what to make of him. He is credited with introducing the blow dryer to major league baseball. And he inhaled.

It's been years since I've read the book, but I want to attempt relating a

story Joe told that struck me as very funny at the time. This is not

plagiarism! More like repeating a joke you heard at a party or something.

Okay? So here goes:

Joe and Mickey Mantle, both being party animals, were buddies. One day in

'69, they were going to play a night game and found themselves with nothing

much to do during the day. Since they were in NY, and Joe was a guy from

Brooklyn who knew a lot of Sopranos-like characters, Joe suggested that he

pay a quick visit to one of these guys and return with some weed for them

to smoke. "Wha'?" said Mick. "You mean like mary-jewana???"

Micks 1st High

With a smile, Joe went off and scored from a dealer he knew. Returning to the hotel room he was sharing with Mick, he proudly placed some J's on the table. Mick gulped. "Uh, listen, Joe, we got a game tonight. Am I gonna be okay?" Pepi, as he was known, assured the Mick that the game was many hours away, that he wouldn't be feeling anything by the time he had to play. The Mick shrugged and reached for the reefer.

Well, they both got stoned. Very stoned, even for Pepitone. The fooled the

day away, having a good time, but Mick kept looking worriedly at his watch

and, sure enough, by game time he was just as stoned as he'd been all day,

if not more. In the first inning, Mick went to the plate and promptly

struck out on three pitches. Returning to the dugout with a peculiar fixed

expression, he took his seat.

Third inning -- same thing. Sixth inning -- same except he got a ball this

time. Finally, it's the ninth inning. With the game on the line, Mantle

came up to the plate...and hits one of the longest, hardest, bestest home

runs of his career, winning the game. He rounded the bases and as he shook

Joe's proffered (there's that word again) hand on his way to the dugout,

with that same peculiar fixed expression, he said "Joe, if you ever give me

anymore of that stuff, I'll kill you."

It is not recorded that the Pep ever offered the Mick so much as a toke

again. He finished his baseball career with a couple of other clubs, never

quite reaching his potential as a ballplayer. This year he would be

sixty-two. Every so often, I find myself wondering what he's up to these

days, and to what extent, if any, he still needs that hairdryer.

Oh, but I almost forgot -- there's a punch line. 1969, as all good New York

stoners will recall, was the year the smoke hitting town suddenly went from

being Mexican So-so to Columbian dynamite, which was way better. And it

just so happened that the day Joe Pepitone went to score for him and the

Mick was the very first day that a shipment of Columbian arrived.

Who knows -- if it had been Mexican the Mick had smoked, he might have hit

three home runs, switched from booze to pot, and be alive today.

Freaky thing, life.

Chris Miller is legendary for his short stories that appeared in the

National Lampoon magazine, several of which served as the basis for the

movie "Animal House" which he co-authored. He has written several

screenplays, just finished his first year of teaching "storytelling" at a

high school in Southern California and is working on a book about his real

life fraternity at Dartmouth in the early Sixties.

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