Fraternity responds to tragedy with brotherly love

“FRAT boys” take a pounding, these days, often by those who decry profiling while profiling.

The Delta Chi brothers of the University of Maryland could offer a convincing op-ed. In 2010, they lost a golf-loving brother Andrew Maciey to heart disease at 24. What to do in his memory? Hold a golf tournament, donate the meager proceeds to a heart hospital. They did.

But why stop there? According to board members Dan Igo and David Stone (Class of 2008), Delta Chi went big, creating “The Round of A Lifetime” foundation, raising money to provide golfers of all abilities who have heart disabilities a chance to play America’s most famous courses, including Congressional and Pinehurst No. 2.

The charity pays for it all — air fare, lodging meals, medical care and monitoring and has now financed 11 golf trips for heart patients, including a transplant recipient, from all over the country. Frat boys. Ugh. For more info: Roundofalifetime.org.

➤ Reader Ted Damieci has invited us into his Wayback Machine to study Rob Manfred’s “ghost runner” extra innings as performed by the 1962 Yankees:

“Bottom of the 10th at Yankee Stadium, the real one (the one with fans seated in the good seats).

“Manager Ralph Houk sends Hector Lopez to be the runner at second. Bobby Richardson bunts Lopez to third. Tony Kubek hits a sac fly to center. Game over.

“Would you think the managers would practice these plays in spring training? Nah, the 2022 Yankees: Grip it and rip it.”

➤ Tim McCarver, longtime Mets then Yankees and Fox TV analyst, recently called it a career, retiring from his part-time gig as a Cardinals announcer at age 80.

If there’s one thing McCarver did that will always stick in my head, it’s what he did for Ralph Kiner — and viewers of Mets telecasts — rejuvenating Kiner as a cherished presence in the booth.

In 1982, for some inexplicable reason, the Mets hired Lorn Brown, who had called White Sox and Brewers games, to work telecasts on Ch. 9. Brown was a nice fella, but excruciatingly dull, often given to reciting players’ Pacific Coast League stats and just killing time. His soporiferous style also put Kiner to sleep — almost literally. The broadcasts were rated ZZZ.

In 1983, when McCarver replaced Brown, Kiner, as if stirred from a deep slumber by a magic wand, began to perk up, again. Soon, the stories, the strategies and the laughter returned. From 1983-95 Kiner, who died in 2014 at 91, and McCarver became a terrific team.

And that was all due to McCarver.