Even on a desolate winter afternoon with a chill wind whistling through empty seats, Don Newcombe elegantly strides into deserted Dodger Stadium dressed like he is visiting a palace.
Gray sport coat, maroon pocket square, plaid sweater vest, black fedora with maroon feather, the standard uniform of the most regal Dodger alive.
"When I was young I had nothing," he says. "I borrowed my brother's suits, I wore my teammate's suits, I always told myself, if I ever made it…"
Newcombe finds a seat on the fifth level overlooking the deep green field, positions himself on the left side of his interviewer because he is blind in his left eye, and...