Wore My 44 So Long

Been thinking about 44 a lot of late.
Everyone seems to be saying this 44th president is history. I concur.
I credit Bush for me even knowing what number we're on, with him and his son's 41-43 banter. I sure didn't know what number Clinton was. I know he has a curved dick.
So as the week's festivities reminded me of 44, my ponderance turned to what every sports fan does - who wore 44?
Hank Aaron and Pistol Pete. Any others were lower tier who I'd have to double check to make sure.
Pistol Pete and Barry O'Bomber with the smokes and everything is curious, but I think it's Hammerin' Hank who offers an interesting sports context for our new prez.
Humble and soft spoken describe both and steady determination would probably also synopsize their styles.
I also truly believe that the two have similar racial awarenesses that prescribe critic silencing production combined with unwavering pride.
At Obama's relative young age it will be interesting to see if he replicates Henry Aaron's undeniable longevity.
I think what hits me the most though is that unforgettable picture of the two Disco-era white boys who ran the bases with Aaron when he hit 715. A timeless slice of Americana and more importantly a poignant statement about how greatness renders most of us colorblind.
It was in the end a meaningless stunt, but it will always be imprinted in our brains and in a way paved the road for Obama's unlikely ascension.