An Odyssey: Brooklyn Dodgers to Tottenham Hotspur

Article by Mitchell Radow

In 1948 I was born and then raised in Brooklyn, New York. I came from a wonderful family. My immigrant parents had arrived in America from Eastern Europe with the qualities of hard work, honesty, responsibility, compassion and love of God. My parents instilled these qualities in me. I had a younger brother and sister, whom I loved deeply.

Growing up in Brooklyn in the 1950's were days of glory; thinking of those times I would call the experience "heaven on earth." I remember the closeness of families, the true friendships, the wonderful community spirit, and the crowded streets, sidewalks and parks- all testifying that people then were never afraid to go outside. Day or night as a kid, I had roamed around the neighbourhood carefree. Muggings, robberies and kidnappings only existed on the television screen, not in my safe little world.

The sweetest memories of all were the times I spent with my grandparents: Grandpa Dave and Grandma Anna and Grandpa Nathan and Grandma Rose. The fondest memory of my childhood was accompanying my Grandpa Dave as he earned his living by delivering beverages in his truck. Equally memorable was playing at the house of my grandparents. There weren't any toys in the house, so for hours I would play happily with a bag full of clothespins. We were materially poor, but in more important ways we were rich.

Across the street where I lived was Public School 273, the school I had attended from kindergarten through sixth grade. I still remember all of my teachers and most of my school mates. My best subject was history, where I succeeded in winning the American Legion Award as the best in that subject. However my fondest memories of school were not from the classroom, but rather to the nearby school yard. Memories of baseball, American football and basketball race through my mind. During the Summer, you would sometimes find me in the school yard from morning through evening. Sports was king, the most important activity in my life, as I spent all my free time playing, running, jumping and having fun with my friends. All we needed was a rubber ball, and we came up with dozens of different types of games to keep us occupied.

When we weren't playing sports, we would be watching sports on the television, or listening on the radio. Watching sports meant watching the games of the professional baseball team in Brooklyn, the Brooklyn Dodgers. The people of Brooklyn and the Brooklyn Dodgers baseball team were one. When the Dodgers won, we celebrated with them and when they lost, we cried with them. The Dodgers were called the "Bums." Brooklyn was the working class section of New York, where all the "real" people lived. The Dodgers were always a colourful team, like the very people of Brooklyn. They played hard, they had fun, they were very entertaining, they won exciting baseball games, but never could win the big games, never could win the World Series, the championship of American baseball. The team that always seemed to win the World Series were our arch rivals across the city, the dreaded New York Yankees. For the people of Brooklyn, the Yankees were the evil empire, with all their money, buying the best players and every time they beat the Dodgers in the World Series. Then one year a miracle occurred! In 1955, the Brooklyn Dodgers defeated the New York Yankees in 7 games to win the World Series! We were champions of the World. All day and night the people of Brooklyn celebrated and partied. I remember as a 7 year old boy being caught up in a motorcade parade in celebration of our beloved Bums. How sweet was the life.

However only two years later all my dreams crashed back to earth. My beloved baseball team, the love of my life, the Brooklyn Dodgers were stolen from the people of Brooklyn and hijacked to Los Angeles. The greedy owner of the Dodgers sold us down the river, so he could make millions of dollars. It wasn't enough that he was filthy rich, but he needed to be even richer. My heart was broken. No longer would I go to Ebbetts Field (the Dodgers stadium) to watch my favourite player, Duke Snider and my other heroes Jackie Robinson, Gil Hodges, Pee Wee Reese, Roy Campanella, Carl Furillo, Carl Erskine, etc. The Dodgers leaving Brooklyn was the one great intrusion of adult greed into my otherwise fun-filled and trouble-free youth. It foreshadowed that just around the corner was a life of uncertainty and pain which I wasn't prepared to face.

Although Brooklyn without the Dodgers seemed to be like the end of the world to a 9 year old boy, life still managed to go on. I grew up, became a 1960's hippie, graduated university, became an inner city school teacher and eventually moved to California where I became an organic farmer and yoga instructor. My life was filled with amazing adventures, achievements, setbacks, victories and disappointments. All the while, I continued to enjoy following sports, but never to the extent of my youth. What was missing was the love and loyalty to a team that I could support from my heart. True I rooted for the New York Mets baseball team and the Sacramento Kings basketball team, but these were no replacement for my beloved Dodgers.

Then in 2010, I embarked on a new and unique adventure, called marriage. At the age of 61, I found the love of my life and we we celebrated our wedding before my parents and closest family in Florida. Since my wife is a British citizen, a dental hygienist living in London, I left America to join her in the UK. We enjoy a peaceful, beautiful, harmonious and loving life together. I have found work as a visitor host in the museum field, and I feel comfortably settled and happy living in London.

Working at the O2 Arena, I frequently overheard my colleagues talking about football and their favourite teams, such as Arsenal, Chelsea and Manchester United. Being a sports fan at heart, I decided that I needed to root for a football team. As I was living in Walthamstow, my choice was Tottenham Hotspur, the nearest team to where I lived. I was told the Spurs had a penchant for disappointing their fans by losing the big games and choking at critical moments. This was no obstacle for me, as this scenario reminded me of the Brooklyn Dodgers.

In the 3 years of supporting the Spurs, with each passing day, they increasingly reminded me of my beloved Dodgers. The Spurs have heart, the Spurs have history and the Spurs have resilience, and that's what I want in my team. These last two seasons I agonised as the Spurs fought to the bitter end, finishing fifth in the English Premier League, a tantalising one point behind our arch rivals, the Arsenal Gunners; one point from reaching the glory of the Champions League.

However, despite these disappointments, I do not despair. Thanks to the Spurs, I have regained my youthful enthusiasm for a sports team. Just as the Brooklyn Dodgers reached the promised land in 1955, I am confident the same good fortune will smile upon the Spurs. My heart was broken when the Dodgers left Brooklyn, but now, more than a half century later, I have found their spirit in Tottenham.

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