I wasn't always a rabid Johnny fan. When I was a wee lad I liked the Yankees. Bobby Murcer was my boyhood hero. I got to see Mickey Mantle play. He was fat, painfully slow, played first base badly, struck out more than half the time and wreaked of booze but he was Mickey Mantle. I wouldn't speak badly of him.
I wasn't alive when they were active and never had the pleasure of watching Ruth, Gehrig and Dimaggio play. But I had some sense of history and understood what these players meant to the team I loved. If one of these three had been named Yankee coach, I would have just known instinctively that they deserve more leeway and a longer leesh than a former LA Dodger coach who had been working as a broadcaster or the former coach of a Double AA team in Queens. Even though I wasn't around for their glory years and the teams they coached sucked.
I don't understand this generation.
Where is the sense of history? Where is the respect? Where is the reverence?