One of my early memories is of my mother taking me to East Windsor, New Jersey to visit a friend. She did this from time to time. I remember that she took me there on Opening Day in 1976, which was the day the world finally got to see the revamped Yankee Stadium. I sat in front of the television and fell in love with Thurman Munson and Graig Nettles and Mickey Rivers and Roy White.
I also learned during one of these trips that a friend of the family had developed a cocaine habit and had spent all their family’s money and was being divorced. And I learned that one of his coke-buddies was Robin Williams, who apparently had an unquenchable desire for the stuff. I may have some details wrong, and my mother will probably correct my memory, but from my earliest childhood I have always associated Robin Williams with substance abuse. And I have always loved him. I think he was the best comedian I have ever seen because he was the most generous comedian I have ever seen. I knew how vulnerable he was. I knew how eager to please he was. I could see how much he loved because he wanted so desperately to be loved back.
And who was ever quicker on his feet with a retort? Who has ever been as spontaneously and energetically creative? Has anyone ever been funnier without being mean? My favorite routine of his was actually about golf, of all things, which I don’t even play or watch.
All the other comedians I love have made their names talking about politics, race, or inequality. Robin Williams could talk about anything. He struggled with addiction his whole life. He once told a story about relapsing after a couple of decades of sobriety because he had found himself in a remote Alaskan village where he knew he could drink without anyone knowing about it. Within a few weeks, he was back in rehab. That’s how trying to live sober is. Always a struggle, no matter how long you’ve been doing it.
Reportedly, he was back in rehab this summer. Reportedly, he was severely depressed. This greatly saddens me. He gave so much that he should never have felt badly about himself. I will miss him terribly, and I will never get over how he died.
Truly a comedic genius. I first saw him when he did his first HBO special, right around the time you describe. The guy was off the wall. Had never seen anything like it. He climbed into the audience and up a curtain into the balcony at one point. Was obviously completely off script, just doing whatever came into his incredibly weird mind.
Greatest of the non-Jewish comics in my book and possibly very best of them all. Certainly one of the greats. The way he performed on Carson’s last Tonight Show was something to remember. So sad for him and his family.
As a side note, I too recall that first game at the refurbished Yankee Stadium. That’s the year I became a total Yankee fanatic. Great memories — Chamblis, Randolf, Dent (Stanley in “76), Nettles, Munson, Pinella, Rivers, White (Jackson beginning in “77). What a crazy mix of lunch bucket talent in a bunch of primadonnas.
I can still make up a lineup card for the 1976 Yankees and manage the pitching rotation.
I cried the day Thurman Munson died.
And now Robin Williams has been taken from us as well. I found the Fisher King to be especially moving as I had taken a lot of Folklore & Mythology courses (a lot for a physicist, anyway) and had some sense of the depth that had been built into the film. Good by, Mister Williams.
When Thurman Munson died, it nearly crushed me. I could easily cry right now just thinking about it. I have been fortunate to lose only one close family member before a ripe old age, and losing Thurman was complete and utter devastation for me. It was the single most traumatic thing that happened to me in my entire childhood, and that includes losing a beloved cat and falling off a bike and chipping one of my front teeth. It includes breaking my thumb and burning my hand on the kitchen stove. I was inconsolable and never got over it.
My love for Thurman Munson was a match for any other love I have ever felt for anyone. At that age, all I really cared about was baseball. It completely consumed me. I hated Reggie Jackson and Sparky Anderson with the heat of a thousand suns for daring to say a critical word of Munson. I never forgave either of them. I even rooted against the Detroit Tigers in the 1984 World Series because Sparky was coaching them (and because Gossage and Nettles were playing for the Padres).
I did not forgive.
Did you and I have the same childhood? I was staying with friends of my family in upstate New York when Munson died. I was beside myself. The family I was with was totally working class and they listened to me for a good chunk of the day and then one of the guys (an adult) went off on me. Said I had whined all day about “Munson, Munson, Munson” and it was time I shut the f up. Good times.
Can’t say it was the most devastating thing in my childhood. You probably had better parents than I. But we had certain similarities.
Ok, Mickey Rivers leading off; Willy Randolph second; Munson, third with Jackson hitting cleanup. In the fifth spot, Chris Chamblis. Batting sixth, Greg Nettles. Seventh, Lou Pinella. Bucky Dent 8th and Roy White 9th. That would be a decent “77 or “78 lineup. In “76, Stanley would bat 9th and Oscar Gamble or Carlos May would be in there somewhere, though not batting in Jackson’s cleanup spot.
Pitching — in “78 you’d have Guidrey as the ace after moving into the rotation in “77. Ed Figeroa was good for close to 20 wins in his best years. Dick Tidrow was good for 10 to 15. Other starters depend on the year. Catfish Hunter is “76. Ken Holtzman. Doyle Alexander. Sparky Lyle anchoring the pen until “78 when Gossage came in and, in Greg Nettles words, Lyle went from Cy Young to soyonara.
Don’t forget Dock “I pitched a no-hitter on LSD” Ellis. Batting cleanup in 1976, you could see Chambliss, Piniella, or Carlos May, for the most part. Roy White was more apt to bat second than ninth. Oscar Gamble could not fit his ‘fro in his helmet. And don’t forget the explosive power of Jim Mason who hit 12 homers in a nine year career and started almost half of the games at shortstop.
Yes, Dock Ellis. Thanks for bringing a smile to my face. I don’t recall White batting second too often. Where was Randolph? Both Rivers and Randolph came to the Yankees in “75.
Gamble had quite the fro. The only thing I remember about Jim Mason is the home run he hit against Cincinnati in the 4-game sweep. It may have been the only Yankee home run. That was sad but it didn’t offset the rest of the season. Chamblis’ home run against the Royals was the highlight for me of that year. And the years to come were even better. To this day, I love invoking the name Bucky “Fuckin'” Dent with my friends from Boston. Watched that game with my close friend at the time, Eric, a Mets fan. His frustration was the perfect counterbalance to my elation.
I remember John Houseman being asked who he thought was the greatest actor in the (then) upcoming generation was and having only seen him on TV doing comedy I was shocked when he said Robin Williams.
Without a doubt the greatest improvisational actor and funniest comedian ever.
I was an actor for a time and I never thought Williams was very good in that department. Mediocre in my opinion, though he was good at going off script of course.
Phenomenal comedian, mediocre actor.
Thanks for posting Williams’ “Golf.” Loved Williams and golf is one of my favorite joke subjects. Even when I was the joke the one time I got roped into making a lot of divots and losing a lot of balls.
not surprising to connect him with substance abuse, which he not only struggled with for years but did comedy about.
IIRC a routine started “I had to stop drinking because I kept waking up naked on the hood of my car with the keys in my ass.”
Rest in Peace, one of the notables of our time. As a different comic put it, he stomped on the terra.
Amazing:
The movie that has come to my mind today is not one of the best movies that Robin Williams was in. But it is one that is full of memorable images and scenes. It is What Dreams May Come. The art direction was stunning-for a movie made two decades before it came out. The dialogue had its high points, such as this one:
And the plot revolved around rescuing his wife (they had both been killed in an accident) from hell, a quest plot but a very shaky one.
But Robin Williams sold it, made it come as close to working as a movie as possible.
So much so that at today, it was unforgettable.
And then there’s the scene in Patch Adams in which Patch Adams moons the UNC Chapel Hill quadrangle.
Williams was generous. The career revival he gifted to Jonathan Winters was a great kindness.
“Good Morning Vietnam!” RIP MR WILLIAMS