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Marilyn Monroe doing dishes at the same sink where I washed dishes every night -- that's a mental picture that will make a 13-year-old boy's head explode.One afternoon during our stay in Puerto Rico, Roberto and his wife Vera drove us around San Juan, showing us the city they were so proud of.

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My father explained that he'd been on the job only a few minutes and that he hadn't even met Clemente yet. My dad has Alzheimer's, so I can't ask him what happened next, but when his memories were still present, he took out a yellow legal pad and wrote down many of his baseball stories.Roberto reacted with a three or four minute outburst, combining English and Spanish, to let me know exactly how he felt about Stockton.Apparently he and Dick had had a falling-out some time ago over something Stockton had said on the air.He is still funny, and surprisingly quick with one-liners to crack up the staff at the facility where he lives. He is good at faking a casual conversation, especially on the phone. "What happens to memories when they're collapsed inside time like this?But if you sit and talk with him for a long time, he gets very anxious. They don't exactly disappear, they just become impossible to unpack. From the time I was a baby and my dad was working for the New York Yankees until I was in the fifth grade, when Dad left the Pirates to take a job at the Baseball Hall of Fame, I probably went to 40 or 50 major league baseball games a year.In these pages, he describes his first encounter with Roberto.

Dad introduced himself as the new PR guy, and in the next breath asked whether Clemente would do an interview with the sports director from KDKA-TV.

For you I will do it, my friend." He finished dressing, walked out on the field, and gave an interview to Dick Stockton for the first time in years.

-- Bill Guilfoile That night in my bedroom, early in the morning on New Year's Day, 1973, I don't think my dad had words for what he was feeling.

The next day I mentioned this to a Puerto Rican newspaperman. "No one would ever think of asking him for an autograph when he was with friends.

We respect him too much." I thought this was an interesting contrast to what athletes experience in the States.

Bottom: Kevin Guilfoile, at age 4, around the time of Clemente's death.