He stood there in the Florida sunshine, watching his ballplayers work the winter kinks out of their muscles and smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of his pinstriped flannel shirt. "How does it fit, Johnny?" a friend asked. Johnny Keane grinned and pointed to the letters that spelled NEW YORK across his chest. "I hardly ever glance down any more," he said.
Not that he was awed. After 35 years in baseball, nothing awes Johnny Keane, 53. "My red cap with a cardinal on it was size 7⅛," he says, "and my blue cap with...
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