From Philip Roth's Pulitzer Prize winning American Pastoral: One night in the Summer of 1985, while visiting New York, I went out to see the Mets play the Astros, and while circling the stadium with my friends, looking for the gate to our seats, I saw the Swede, thirty-six years older than when I'd watched him play ball for Upsala. He wore a white shirt, a striped tie, and a charcoal-gray summer suit, and he was still terrifically handsome. [***] "You're Zuckerman?", he replied, vigorously shaking my hand. "The author?" [***] "These are my friends," I said, sweeping an arm out to introduce the three people with me. "And this man", I said to them, "is the greatest athlete in the history of Weequahic High. A real artist in three sports. Played first base like Keith Hernandez - thinking. A line drive doubles hitter. Do you know that?" I said to his son. "Your dad was our Hernandez." "Hernandez's a lefty," he replied. [***] The following letter reached me by way of my publisher a couple of weeks before Memorial Day, 1995. Dear Skip Zuckerman: I apologize for any inconvenience this letter may cause you. You may not remember our meeting at Shea Stadium. I was with my oldest son (now a first year college student) and you were out with some friends to see the Mets. That was ten years ago, the era of Carter-Gooden-Hernandez, when you could still watch the Mets. You can't anymore. [***] Sincerely, Seymour "Swede" Levov, WHS 1945 [FIMG=333]https://readwithstyle.files.wordpress.com/2013/05/american-pastoral-book-cover.jpg[/FIMG]