Keith Burgess-Jackson, J.D., Ph.D.

9-1-89 . . . There was shocking news from the east coast this evening. A. Bartlett Giamatti [1938-1989], the fifty-one year old commissioner of baseball and a genuine lover of the game, died of a heart attack in his summer home on Martha’s Vineyard. He had been commissioner for only five months, during which time he was preoccupied with the Pete Rose gambling investigation. Just eight days ago, in a much publicized—and criticized—act, he banned Rose for life. I watched the entire press conference at which he made the announcement and answered questions. Looking back, I didn’t notice anything unusual about Giamatti. He was a barrel-chested, stout man to begin with. Apparently he died after eating a heavy meal with his wife. Perhaps, come to think of it, Giamatti’s stoutness contributed to the heart attack. That’s why I’m determined to stay physically fit throughout my life. I may get hit by a truck tomorrow, but I want to do what I can to minimize the chances of having a heart attack or dying of heart disease. Obese people make their bodies work harder. Really, all it takes is a smattering of self-discipline and rudimentary self-denial. Just don’t eat that extra piece of pie; better yet, don’t make the pie in the first place. Or if you do eat the pie, make sure you burn off the calories in strenuous exercise. In my case, that means bicycling.