Hari

 well, I beat the drum and hold the phone

The sun came out today
We're born again, there's new grass on the field
A-roundin' third and headed for home
It's a brown-eyed handsome man
Anyone can understand the way I feel  (John Fogerty)

I still remember the fist time i saw him...i was drinking a cold beer in 102 schoolyard on a seasonably warm good Friday afternoon.....1977 or 78........he was standing in Centerfield with a glove and a backwards baseball cap....chatting up a few girls outside the fence on the 71st street side .........suddenly there was the crack of the bat and he was off in a flash, darting to the base of the wall to make a running catch and then throwing an underhand flip of a strike to the 2nd baseman without breaking stride...and barely pausing the conversation. I asked my compatriots of the day , Steve Mac and Dano; who was that guy.......that's Billy Rohls Brother came the response.....Hari Rohl....for the next 15 or 20 minutes i was fixated on watching this happy go lucky guy.......anyone and everyone who passed the schoolyard would call out his name and he would wave.....carrying on multiple conversations and somehow paying enough attention to the game to catch every fly ball that came his way...patrolling centerfield like Willie Mays.....a modern day Neal Cassady ...a cool cat in a circus of chaos that was Bayridge and the annual Sneaker-Bomber game....he was a legend.

A few months later i was in  my yard shooting hoops, trying to emulate Bob Mcadoo and or Pete Maravich with crazy trick shots and long range jumpers......and my new neighbor told me to work on the fundamentals....work on your foul shooting he joked over the fence....and the guy standing next to him was the now familiar Hari Rohl ( His Brother Rob had bought the house next door to my parents on 76th street). I couldn't wait to share the news with my friends....over the next 10 years or so there were some occasions where my parents were preoccupied with work or something and we'd have the back porch to ourselves for a 2 hour beerfest. Dano would always find his way to the fence and he would call out Robbie's name as if we were ringing the bell and calling for a friend....keep in mind Robbie was about 15 years older than us, a married father of 3 and school teacher to boot....didn't stop us from trying to lure him across the fence for a cold beer.

Over the next few decades i became very good friends with Hari.....we'd share quite a few glasses of beer over the years, whether it be at the beer truck after a 5k or an early happy hour sports chat at  Lynch's, The Brooklyn Dodger -Salty Dog, P&C's or the park bench at 72nd and Shore Road. He would love it if you asked him about a ball player that was before your time, but someone that Hari had seen play....he would light up and talk in detail about his sports idols from the 60's......not professionals...usually a High School legend or Small College prodigy...and it didn't matter if we had the same conversation the prior Thursday.

I didn't see him as often as i would have liked over the last 5 years, but we stayed in touch on email....he would always find great stories about Brooklynites or funny anecdotes about Bayridge......he had a distribution list of about 30-50 names and it was an honor to be included. I kept telling him that i was getting close to retirement and was looking forward to visiting , if not moving to Florida. It breaks my heart to learn that he passed away yesterday at the age of 73......I hope it was quick and painless, hopefully in his sleep.....i hope he is chatting with his brother and Dano tonight at an early happy hour and talking about Lou Brock.

You got a beat up glove, a homemade bat
And a brand new pair of shoes
You know I think it's time to give this game a ride
Just to hit the ball and touch 'em all, a moment in the sun
It's a-gone and you can tell that one goodbye

Oh, put me in, coach
I'm ready to play today
Put me in, coach
I'm ready to play today
Look at me, I can be centerfield (yeah)