Maybe you have to be old enough to remember what Washington Heights was like in those years, when crack was rampant, when the dealers seemed to grow more bold and more brazen by the day. Maybe that best illustrates what happens in that neighborhood now, the small miracle that arrives every spring.
Or maybe this does: One act of kindness, of forgiveness, brought forth by a hero’s stricken family. Because hope should always trump hate, shouldn’t it?
“The place was broken. The police in a way were broken, and we were broken-hearted,” Mary Jo Buczek says. “And yet, we knew that what Michael would want, more than anything, was to lend a helping hand. To offer a little goodness.”
Michael was Mary Jo’s brother, who on Oct. 18, 1988, was in his third year as an NYPD officer working out of the 34th Precinct, who on that terrible night responded to a call on West 161st Street and then, after spotting suspicious men loitering near the building, approached them. The suspects fled. Michael Buczek and his partner, Joseph Barbato, pursued.
One of the men turned and fired. The bullets hit Buczek in the chest.
“He was only 24 years old,” says his friend, Sgt. John Moynihan, who had met Buczek not long after he had joined the 34th. “Most of us in that precinct were so young. And it was so striking to all of us to feel the sudden loss of a brother officer. The feelings, the emotions … they were so powerful. Are powerful.”
An interesting thing happened not long after that awful night, though. Michael Buczek was a rabid baseball fan — “The Yankees,’ his sister says, laughing, “always, always the Yankees” — but more to the point, he was a kid who had grown up in the Jersey suburbs but immediately grew to love Washington Heights.
“He always told me, ‘Mary Jo, these are such great people, this is such a wonderful neighborhood, it’s why we want to do our jobs so well, to let them have the life they deserve,’ ” Mary Jo says.
So, rather than allow bitterness to fester, rather than blaming Washington Heights itself for the murderous hand of three men (all of whom would ultimately pay for the crime), the Buczek family decided to go another way. The following spring — in the name of their son, brother, cousin and friend — they formed the Police Officer Michael J. Buczek Little League.
Saturday, it celebrated its 27th Opening Day with a parade beginning at P.S. 48 on 185th and Broadway, a school now named for Buczek. Ceremonies then followed at the park (also named for him) at Fort George and Amsterdam Avenue in Highbridge Park. It is always a cocktail of emotions — joy, sorrow, hope, remembrance. This year was just a little more so.
One of the more remarkable ideas hatched along the way was for the 250 or 300 kids in the league to wear major league team names on the front of their shirts — Yankees, Dodgers, Red Sox, etc. — but on the back the players carry the name of an NYPD officer killed in the line of duty.
“You know the old saying, ‘You don’t play for the name on the back of the jersey, but for the name on the front of the jersey?’ We do it a little different,” Moynihan says. “We really do play for the name on the back of the jersey.”
This year, one of the solemn duties was to add three names to the sad roster: those of Officers Wenjian Liu and Rafael Ramos, shot in cold blood in their patrol car on Dec. 14, and Michael Williams, killed in a September car crash.
“There isn’t a better way we could have honored my brother’s legacy,” Mary Jo says. “Generations of kids who played in this league have come back to coach and volunteer. And 35 former players have grown up to be police officers themselves.”
And in perpetuating the names, the league also has done — continues to do — an invaluable service.
“Police officers who give their lives die twice,” Moynihan said. “Once when you physically die. And once when someone says your name for the last time.
“Hopefully, now, that never has to happen.”
Vac’s Whacks
You can feel however you want to feel about Alex Rodriguez. But if it comes down to siding with the player or the owners about whether he should be paid his bonuses for milestone home runs, how can you possibly root for the brass? This was their idea. They should have to live with it.
I don’t think I ever have known Rangers fans to walk with this much confidence at this time of the year — not even 1994, when The Curse still hung around their necks like millstones, and they constantly awaited The Other Shoe to drop. It’s actually quite marvelous to see.
I don’t often throw the word “masterpiece” around, especially when it comes to sports books. But “Billy Martin: Baseball’s Flawed Genius” by Bill Pennington qualifies. A fascinating subject expertly detailed.
If the Nets can at least push the Hawks to six games, I’ll take back many of the bad things I’ve said about them. Or at least some.
Whack Back at Vac
Charlie Romanelli: I go back and forth about Carmelo, but your words ring with truth. The reality is, there are a whole bunch of players who have played for the Knicks who deserve a special place in Springfield because they played for a team owned by James Dolan.
Vac: Maybe they can get a few million years knocked off their stay in purgatory, too.
Bill Green: Would you have thought after two weeks of play that the Yankees MVP would be A-Rod?
Vac: I keep wondering who this imposter is, because I remember reading somewhere he never would play another game for the Yankees. Guaranteed.
@HATS_ALL_FOLKS: You said it wasn’t supposed to be easy, but the #Islanders made it harder than it had to be Friday night. Pathetic effort against rookie goalie.
@MikeVacc: That should’ve been a house-money game. But after 3-1 up against a green backup … not good. Not good at all.
Andrew Lloyd: Matt Harvey drilling Chase Utley is the first bona fide signal that things have changed for the Mets. It was huge, no?
Vac: As far as messages go, it was delivered loud and clear.