Free Republic

It was a brawl that forever defined one of sports' fiercest rivalries, with an ugliness that offered a new and frightening definition of sports violence. Yet, 50 years later, the most enduring memory of baseball's most famous fight is that it did not define the men. Monday marks the 13th anniversary of a far more powerful moment, one occurring at Roseboro's funeral, when, in a hall filled with old Dodgers, an old Giant suddenly walked to the lectern. It was Marichal, who wanted to say goodbye, and thank you.

John Roseboro, RIP: Forgiveness Incarnate by Jeff Kallman What should we call it when a decent baseball player, probably thrice as decent a man, is remembered best for a desperate sprawl to avoid having his head split further open, his ordinarily warm face pushed back into a contortion of cold agony? Call it disproportionate, call it unfair, and call it as distorted in the retelling as it was in its actual ignition and action."The thing I'm remembered for most is the Juan Marichal incident," wrote John Roseboro, to begin his 1978 autobiography. "It's too bad, because a ballplayer would like...