Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Beisbol Has Always Been Very Special To Me

“Baseball, it is said, is only a game. True. And the Grand Canyon is only a hole in Arizona.” ― George F. Will Baseball has always played a special role in my life. From the age of 8, on July 20, 1958, when my dad took me to my first game in the Bronx to see the Yankees play the Kansas City Athletics. It was meant to be that I would forever remember that date because the day would become one of the legendary dates of baseball history. Not because I happened to be one of the patrons that day at Yankee Stadium, but because late in the game, the voice of God, Bob Shepherd, would announce to the crowd that in Boston on this day, Detroit pitcher, Jim Bunning had pitched a no-hitter against the Red Sox. I would attend 100 or more games at Yankee Stadium in future years. I was there when we landed on the moon and I was there when my date had an attack of claustrophobia. I would visit other stadium in New York, Pittsburgh, Los Angeles, Anaheim, Atlanta, Miami Boston, Arizona and San Diego. The warden had regaled me with stories of how he played for Casey Stengel and the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1934. I wrote about the warden in my baseball fantasy Gift To My Dad (Amazon). My dad always called strangers he me “Mac.” I never liked that sobriquet. I substituted “Bud.” It sounded friendlier to me. And nothing I have ever found in life is more digestible than watching a game of baseball. As I reach the backstretch of my extraordinary life, it continues to be my foundation. I live and breathe baseball.

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