So Long, Mayor.
This is the saddest ditty of the last six months. My old friend Marty Dunn, former Holyoke mayor and state senator, died on 9/11. He was 64.
Together with the attorney Greg Schmidt, the agency ran all of Marty’s campaigns —breaking every rule in the book and winning ‘em all by landslide. But it isn’t the political stuff we did together that I’ll remember most. When I think of Marty, I’ll always think of Wiffle ball.
We played every Saturday and Sunday in my backyard for years. And we stuck with the famous Holyoke tradition…everybody had a nickname. Marty was called “Boddicker” after Baltimore Orioles pitcher Mike Boddicker who pitched so slow it was called “Little League slop.” That’s how Marty pitched.
The guy who had the most nicknames was Nate “Tuba” Lyons. He also went by "Clarence", "Meat" and "Lumpy." The rest of the line-up included Pat “Swing and a Miss” Dowling, Ryan “Pawtucket” Paquette, Justin "Clash" Bartha, Billy "Base Hit" Lyons and Lenny “Dibble” Jacobson. Billy Guard was “National Guard”, Nick Stark was “Nick at Night” or “Stark Naked Nick” or "Nudist Nick Naked" and young Greg Schmidt was “Louie Dumbrowski.” Some kid from Chicopee showed up with high socks and baggy shorts and we called him “Clamdigger.” He played one game and we never saw him again. Gainer was “Johnny Ballgame” and the little bastard played to win and swore like an ironworker. I was "The Commissioner."
None of us will ever forget those lazy summer and fall afternoons, swinging at a ball with holes in it. Those were our “wonder years.” And when Marty was on the mound throwing his famous meatball, it was guaranteed that at least one of us would blast it over the outfield bushes into old lady Fleming’s backyard for a long-gone home run.
Today, we ran our final ad for Marty Dunn. I’ll put the dukes down and raise my right hand in a salute. Love ya, Marty.
