Socking it to the Greatest Generation

Thanks, grandpa, and grandma, you served your purpose, but now it is time for you to stay in isolation while the rest of us don't. Op-ed.

Jack Engelhard ,

Jack Engelhard
Jack Engelhard
Jack Engelhard

This is starting to get creepy, all this talk in the US about isolating people 70 and older. They made horror movies about scenarios like this.

But I heard it on the radio just this morning, and not the first time, that once the Virus scare is over, and once the pros start playing ball again, the “elderly” should be excluded from attending the games. I heard that it’s a notion being considered for football, or maybe it was baseball. Or both.

Some stormed the beaches, and they were hailed the Greatest Generation.
If so, it means that Robert Kraft, owner of the New England Patriots, a man in his late 70s, is out of luck, and so are other owners around the same age.

They are all billionaires, and some stormed the beaches, and were hailed the Greatest Generation.

This is their reward? Thanks, grandpa, and grandma, you served your purpose, but now it is time to go.

There is no room for you in the bleachers, or anywhere else…and kiss the grandkids goodbye.

The irony…that when they were young, and poor, they had to sneak into the ballpark, to watch Duke Snider swat another homerun.

Now they will have to sneak in again.

The typical “old-timer” does not need videos to watch Willie Mays make that basket catch. He was there, and saw it happen from the stands.

He saw Joltin Joe at the plate and how smoothly DiMaggio rounded to second. He saw Stan Musial take that easy swing that somehow got the ball perfectly where it belonged.

He told you how everything went quiet when Ted Williams stepped up, and the roar after he delivered.

He told you how Number 7 would always be magic because it was the number that belonged to Mickey Mantle.

He told you how a Mantle homerun was unlike any other homerun. It was a blast to the skies.

He told you what it was like meeting the Rebbe at 770 Eastern Parkway, and that with all his warmth and Torah wisdom, the Rebbe still knew the results of last night’s game.

He told you how nobody announced the game, on radio and TV, better than Vin Scully, and how nobody wrote it better than Jim Murray.

He told you what it was like, the thrill of it, reading Hemingway for the first time, and watching Ali meet Frazier for the last time.

He told you how it was when Secretariat won the Belmont by 31 lengths, to win the Triple Crown.

No time capsule will ever tell it like it was when the Americans beat the Russians for the Miracle on Ice. Yes, Al Michaels, we believed in miracles.

Those were the days. He called it the Age of Champions, your grandfather did.

He thrilled you and the kids with those stories… the kids on his knees, and they always wanted more.

Finished? Time’s-up?

New York-based bestselling American novelist Jack Engelhard writes regularly for Arutz Sheva.

He wrote the worldwide book-to-movie bestseller “Indecent Proposal,” and the authoritative newsroom epic, “The Bathsheba Deadline,” followed by his coming-of-age classics, “The Girls of Cincinnati,” and, the Holocaust-to-Montreal memoir, “Escape from Mount Moriah,” for which contemporaries have hailed him “The last Hemingway, a writer without peer, and the conscience of us all.” Website: