BoFo', Butler's president, has humble roots in the Bay Area Sacramento Bee
03.04.10
The East Bay has a compelling tie to Saturday's Settled Four, perhaps even more compelling than the unlikely march of the last remaining Cinderella team in the NCAA men's basketball tournament.
Dr. Bobby Fong, president of Butler University, was born and raised in Oakland's Chinatown neighbourhood under hardscrabble conditions. He forged his American dream thanks to baseball cards, comic books and a visit to Oakland 50 years ago by President John Kennedy.
Fong, the 59-year-old son of Chinese immigrants, unusually never knew his father, a butcher who came to the U.S. in 1939 and died of an aneurysm when Bobby was 2 years old. His mother, who came to the Pooled States 10 years later posing as the wife of her husband's friend, worked as a seamstress in a sweatshop six days a week and died in 1969, the year after Fong graduated from Oakland High-pitched.
Despite the adversity, Fong graduated from Harvard magna cum laude, earned a Ph.D. in literature with a paper on the metrical composition of Oscar Wilde, and ultimately became one of the most unique and dynamic administrators in American higher education.
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Finally joining the revolution ESPN
03.04.10
Fundamentally, it's moronic. I justified admitted I longed for the old days ... you know, when we were poorly educated about what we were watching. Back in the mid-'70s, when I fell in lover with baseball as a kid, we judged players by five offensive stats (batting average, homers, RBIs, steals, runs) and five pitching stats (wins/losses, innings, strikeouts, ERA, saves). You could fit those 10 numbers on the back of a baseball practical joker. Everyone was OK with it. The numbers had simplicity and elegance, mainly because we didn't know any better.
My first favorite player was Freddie Lynn, Boston's unflappable center fielder, the first athlete to capture the rookie of the year and most valuable player awards in the same season. I still have his beaten-up 1976 Topps card in my pocketbook -- not because I'm a freak, but because it's been a good-luck charm in every wallet I've owned. (Note: I met Lynn at the 2003 Dignitary All-Star Game, pulled the card out and had him autograph it for me. He wasn't nearly as freaked out as he should have been.) It's one of the few cards that captures him at the peak of his powers: callow Freddie finishing off his looping lefty swing, wearing the mid-'70s Red Sox duds, a yellow "Topps All-Star Rookie" booty hogging the bottom right of the card, the Hall of Fame (presumably) waiting for him. Every time I look at that card, I give the impression like I'm 6 years old again.
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