But there it was, in a Daily Tar Heel article in 1961. Don, who competed for Wake Forest University’s baseball team, was described as “a lanky right-handed junkball pitcher — a la Ed Lopat."
But Ol’ No-Hit, as he was affectionately called, was a star for all of us.
Don lost his battle to cancer on Sunday afternoon. He was 80. For his many friends in the card collecting hobby, this is a devastating loss. Don was a baseball fan to the core, starting with the Brooklyn Dodgers (he cried when Bobby Thomson hit “The Shot Heard ’Round the World” in the 1951 National League playoffs) and then the New York Mets.
Baseball was in his blood. He loved to collect baseball cards and immersed himself in the game, as a player, coach and fan.
We met through an internet card collecting group, Old Card Traders, more than 20 years ago. We could not have been more different. Don stood 6-foot-4 and I was 5-foot-9. He was still lanky, and while not at 185 pounds like his playing days at Wake Forest, he was still trim for his age. I am not (and never will be) lanky, and probably never 185 pounds again. He was an ACC guy, and I attended the University of Florida, deep in the heart of the SEC. He was from Lynbrook. I was from Brooklyn.
And of course, he was a Mets fan and I rooted for the Yankees.
That enabled me to play my best trick on Don. He’d been giving me grief for being a “DY fan,” so I photoshopped a Yankees logo on his golf shirt and posted the picture on my baseball card website. And there it sat for several months, until Don decided to check my wantlist to send cards. And oh, boy, there was quite a post to the OCT message board after that discovery.
Fortunately, Don could dish it out and take it, too.
We met the following year at a Village Inn, also in Brandon. No photo tricks this time.
We’d have a meal, swap stories, trade stuff. I’d usually bring books for Don, and he would have programs and extra business cards. He enjoyed going to minor league ballparks and asking the general managers to autograph their business cards.
Quirky, but they loved it.
He would also tell stories about his teammate at Wake Forest, Pat Williams, who went on to become a successful executive with the NBA’s Orlando Magic. Another good friend was Ernie Accorsi, who was general manager of the NFL’s Browns, Colts and Giants.
In 2016 we were going to meet at the IHOP with fellow trader John Miller, but our wires crossed. Don and I had our usual lunch, but John missed it. A few days later John texted me from the IHOP and asked, “where are you guys?”
Oops.
In 2017, John could not make it, but he called the IHOP and told the server he was going to pay for our breakfast. Naturally, we thought it was a gag, but John came through.
That was the last time we had lunch. Don's cancer treatments began to ramp up, restricting his travel and golf game.
At Wake Forest, Don hurt his arm between seasons and had to mix up his fastball with the breaking stuff. In 1962, his senior year, he went 4-3 during the regular season with a 3.22 ERA, walking only 13 batters in 69 1/3 innings. The Deacons were one victory away from reaching the College World Series, but on a rainy afternoon in Gastonia, North Carolina, Don lost a 3-2 heartbreaker to Florida State University despite pitching 10 2/3 innings and striking out eight batters.
Don and was only an infant when he made his public records debut in the 1940 census. He was born March 7, 1940, the son of Henry Roth and Dorothea Knoop Roth, who were living at 15 Russell St. in Lynbrook, New York. Henry worked in Manhattan as an accountant for the Union Pacific railroad company.
After college, Don served in the Army. He later became a longtime teacher at his alma mater, Lynbrook High School, and coached the Owls’ baseball and riflery teams. He was the driver’s education teacher at the Long Island school.
His kindness extended beyond baseball. In November 2005, he asked his nephew, Bob Roth (another card trading friend), to give my family a tour of the MTV studios in Times Square when we visited New York. Bob worked for MTV’s parent company, Viacom, and set everything up. The kids had a blast. So did their parents.
Great experience.
It seems as if Don knew everybody. In 2006 I won a Topps contest and secured two tickets to a game at Wrigley Field in Chicago. Had a great time with my oldest son and wrote about the experience. Don wrote back and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me? I know the groundskeeper there; he could have given you a tour.”
I should have known.
“Stay well and wash your hands,” he advised.
Of course, we know that cancer plays no favorites and allows no mulligans. Don knew it, too. He began sending me Yankees cards and memorabilia, noting they were from a friend who had passed away. The friend’s wife did not know what to do with the cards, so Don was giving them new homes.
I half believed the story. Given his medical condition, I guessed Don was just clearing out space and getting his own affairs in order. I’ll never know for sure.
One of the last of his many charitable gestures was to buy me a Bradford Exchange bronze statue of Derek Jeter. Typically, he could not bear to send me a DY gift through the mail (or get on the Bradford Exchange mailing list and become deluged with offers for Yankees memorabilia), so he had me order it and then sent a check to cover the expense.
I drove past that IHOP in Lake Wales a few months ago. It had closed down. That should have told me something.
Now, Don can mingle and chat with his favorite Mets: Tom Seaver, Tommie Agee, Gil Hodges, Ed Charles, Donn Clendenon and Tug McGraw.
I am sure he will get some business cards signed by Johnny Murphy — and perhaps even by Branch Rickey.
And he'll get a pat on the back from Ed Lopat — even if he was a DY.
Godspeed, Ol’ No-Hit.