Later in life, I found new heroes, ones who needed no fantasy, just thanks. There was my Uncle Frank, who came home from the war as a corporal and went to night school to further his position at the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
There was Aldo Monducce, a fellow who lived downstairs from me, who went to college and taught me how to catch a baseball. His parents were immigrants from Italy and to me going to college was a big deal that stayed with me for the rest of my life.
As I went on to high school, there were a number of teachers that I loved, Mr. Hall my social studies teacher, and Mr. Giordano my English teacher and advisor to my senior class, who got me interested in reading classics like the Bard of Avon, William Shakespeare.
If we go back to my original heroes, there is one that I think I may be the original president of a fan club, that being the great #9, playing leftfield at Ebbets Field, the one and only: Gino Cimoli. Yes, this nobody, who came from nowhere, who did absolutely nothing, was my hero!
Why is Gino Cimoli, my hero? Because he achieved major league status, on my favorite team, and proved that mediocrity is contagious!
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