Johnny Fontane
03-04-2004, 07:21 PM
I've been reading this biography, "Joe DiMaggio: The Hero's Life." I know that Ron has some fascination with the legendary NY restaurateur, Toots Shor, so I wanted to share a few excerpts from this book.
1940
There were days when DiMaggio had one of those games: he missed a ball in the field, or popped up a fat pitch when the Yankees needed runs, or the team lost a tough one (they were losing too many in that 1940 season)...right away, Toots was worried for the Dago. It wasn't worry about Joe's hitting, his fielding - nothing like that. But how would he feel? (Joe could take it too hard, get all worked up. He might not come to dinner. He might not eat! Toots would have to send food to his hotel.)...That night, Toots would be holding forth in his dining room, when the captain would appear to whisper: "Mr. DiMaggio is outside."
Toots would run out the door. Joe wouldn't come in - wouldn't want people to see him. So Toots would have to walk with him, 'round the corner, down Fifth Avenue, back and forth through the side streets. Neither one would talk much. Toots might ask: Did Joe eat the food he sent? Or maybe he'd tell Joe something that happened in the saloon. But after that, they'd walk in silence - half an hour, an hour, maybe two - till Joe felt better, till he could go back to his hotel and lie down.
1962
Joe and Marilyn hadn't talked since that fight. He couldn't even get her on the phone. She might be off with the Kennedys - how would he know? And the hell of it was, he wouldn't even care. He only wanted to tell her he was sorry. But, Jesus - she made him crazy....Joe said, "What can you do with a girl like that?"
And before he thought, Toots said to his drink:
"Aw, whaddya do with any whore..."
He was sorry before it was out. But who could he tell? Before Toots had drawn another breath, Joe was up, and on his way out the door. Toots ran after him, calling his name - calling, "Joe! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it - JOE!"
But Toots would stay sorry. DiMaggio would never come back.
Early 1980s
Fifty-second - that was Toot's. Used to be. Toots got to be an old drunk at the end. And lost his joint. All the guys sent money. Joe wouldn't. Then Toots had a stroke, too. He was walking on canes. Joe saw him, the last time, in the locker room at the Stadium - Old Timers' Day - and Toots stumped in. Everybody made a fuss. Mantle, Martin, Berra, Ford all hugged him. But Toots only wanted Joe. Joe was in his corner. and Toots came accross the room on his canes - or tried to come. Joe turned his back and walked away, into the trainer's room.
http://www.grandinotizie.it/image/g/000/00040.jpg
"The principal benefit acting has afforded me is the money to pay for my psychoanalysis."
This message was edited by Johnny Fontane on 3-4-04 @ 11:29 PM
1940
There were days when DiMaggio had one of those games: he missed a ball in the field, or popped up a fat pitch when the Yankees needed runs, or the team lost a tough one (they were losing too many in that 1940 season)...right away, Toots was worried for the Dago. It wasn't worry about Joe's hitting, his fielding - nothing like that. But how would he feel? (Joe could take it too hard, get all worked up. He might not come to dinner. He might not eat! Toots would have to send food to his hotel.)...That night, Toots would be holding forth in his dining room, when the captain would appear to whisper: "Mr. DiMaggio is outside."
Toots would run out the door. Joe wouldn't come in - wouldn't want people to see him. So Toots would have to walk with him, 'round the corner, down Fifth Avenue, back and forth through the side streets. Neither one would talk much. Toots might ask: Did Joe eat the food he sent? Or maybe he'd tell Joe something that happened in the saloon. But after that, they'd walk in silence - half an hour, an hour, maybe two - till Joe felt better, till he could go back to his hotel and lie down.
1962
Joe and Marilyn hadn't talked since that fight. He couldn't even get her on the phone. She might be off with the Kennedys - how would he know? And the hell of it was, he wouldn't even care. He only wanted to tell her he was sorry. But, Jesus - she made him crazy....Joe said, "What can you do with a girl like that?"
And before he thought, Toots said to his drink:
"Aw, whaddya do with any whore..."
He was sorry before it was out. But who could he tell? Before Toots had drawn another breath, Joe was up, and on his way out the door. Toots ran after him, calling his name - calling, "Joe! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it - JOE!"
But Toots would stay sorry. DiMaggio would never come back.
Early 1980s
Fifty-second - that was Toot's. Used to be. Toots got to be an old drunk at the end. And lost his joint. All the guys sent money. Joe wouldn't. Then Toots had a stroke, too. He was walking on canes. Joe saw him, the last time, in the locker room at the Stadium - Old Timers' Day - and Toots stumped in. Everybody made a fuss. Mantle, Martin, Berra, Ford all hugged him. But Toots only wanted Joe. Joe was in his corner. and Toots came accross the room on his canes - or tried to come. Joe turned his back and walked away, into the trainer's room.
http://www.grandinotizie.it/image/g/000/00040.jpg
"The principal benefit acting has afforded me is the money to pay for my psychoanalysis."
This message was edited by Johnny Fontane on 3-4-04 @ 11:29 PM