Oct, 1941 Some Gas station on 52nd and Leavenworth streets, Omaha, NE No TV yet, just radio. A young man hanging around the Gas station looking for something to do. The owner and some other folks listening to a Baseball game. World Series, game 6 or 7? Memory not as clear as yesteryear.... Hugh Casey on the mound for for Brooklyn, Mickey owens the other half of the battery. The Yankees' Tommy Hendricks at bat. Called 3rd strike...ball gets past Owens...Hendricks safe at 1st. Up next.....Dimagio. Single. At the plate, King Kong Keller....game over. A 12 year old boy becomes a life long Yankee fan. I'm 45....I never thought to ask my Dad this until tonight. Great story Pops. I love You Dad.
Nice note AJ. Tell your mom and dad we said hello. Me, it was sometime about 1949 when I became aware of Major League Baseball and the Cleveland Indians. Always second to the NY Yankees. About the same time with football, the Miami Hurricanes and Cleveland Browns. No TV yet but that came a few years later. Then the Boston Celtics. A few years later I graduated from High School and went to college somewhere called Gainesville and the University of Florida and became a life long Gator fan.
1949??? My mother was 11 years old at that time! :wink: For me, it was 1964, my first year of Little League Baseball. My coach was Tom Taylor who was a big Braves fan. He took the whole team to a game in 1966 when they moved to Atlanta. I admired my coach and followed his loyalty of the Braves. My question is this: How in heck do I remember Coach Taylor's name from over 40 years ago and I can't remember what I had for breakfast yesterday?
I was born three days after Don Larsen's perfect game.....grew up during the time of Mickey, Roger and Whitey. Lifelong Mantle fan....Dad - from New England - was a diehard BoSox fan and no doubt having him pontificate about the evils of the evil empire helped fuel the passion! :twisted: Yanks AAA franchise was in Columbus during the day- my Dad was a radio broadcaster and on occasion, I got to hang in the press box. George is an Ohio boy and a Buckeye - met his wife - an alum - while on campus. George is a big Buckeye booster - the band room in the stadium is named the Steinbrenner Center .....he was coaching high school football at St Thomas Aquinas in Columbus when I was a boy....obviously before he got involved in the family shipping business! Went to junior high and high school and played with the O'Neill boys - Mike, Patty, Robert and of course Paul - story later - .....their father Chuck coached our summer league team. Chuck, a lefty, was a minor league pitcher - got as far as AAA the story goes. Always threw BP and taught us the see-saw every pitch mind game battle between thrower and hitter....and always brought it....hard nosed, old school, wonderful man. No doubt my finest athletic accomplishment was my absolute and complete mastery of the great Paul O'Neill. An outstanding major leaguer, he was a phenom of epic proportions during his school boy days.....I owned him. I struck him out each and every time I faced him.....he was overmatched and he knew it, yet there was nothing he could do......yet stood in and kept hacking away......we faced off against each other many times, yet he had no chance.....of course he was only 5 or 6 at the time and I was 13 or 14, he was a tough out! :wink: In truth his brother Mike - nickname Goofy - was the best athlete in the family. He was an absolute b!tch....don't know whatever happened to him tho......
I grew up in Dayton, Ohio and can't remember ever NOT being a baseball fan. I mirrored my father who was a Yankee and Reds fan. My first game was a double header in 1962, the Reds v. the Houston Colt 45s in old Crosley Field. Field box seats, the two games cost $2.75 total per seat and I have the ticket stubs. I studied stats like a fiend and baseball trivia was always my specialty. I used to take on all comers as kid... my dad would take me into the neighborhood bar, buy me a Barqs Creme soda and a burger and I would dazzle his buddies. When I was a kid Mike Schmidt was a lifeguard at my pool, Phillips Aquatic Club and he usd to yell at me all the time for jumping off the 10' board on top of my buddies. He was a couple of years my senior and played for Fairview HS in Dayton. Steve Yeager of the Dodgers played for Meadowdale HS at the same time in the same league.
My Dad, a broadcaster as I mentioned, would take me on road trips around the area and on vacations to various ballparks for games......we saw old Crosley Field, old Forbes Field, old Tiger Stadium, old Municipal Stadium, Candlestick......damn I'm getting old! Of course Fenway and Yankee Stadium, and Riverfront. But the best, he was managing a station in Philly while I was in college and obviously had access to press credentials.....I would meet him at the Vet to watch - at that time - Schmidt, Bowa, Cash, Allen, the Bull, Lefty, Tug and the boys as often as I liked.....great stuff. Nothing like an evening at the ballpark with your old man.......
Great, great stuff, guys. As a 7-8 yr. old kid in suburban Chicago, I learned how to play baseball by endlessly throwing a tennis ball against the outside wall of the garage and fielding it. Before I ever went to my first ML game, I adopted Stan the Man as my idol. Like him I was a lefty, and I had lived a few years in St. Louis (age 3-7). I had been collecting baseball cards since I was 6, so I knew about the players. I went to my first ML game when I was 11 with my Little League team. It was a White Sox game. Later that summer, my Dad took my brother and me to a Cubs-Reds game at Wrigley. That's when I adopted Ernie Banks as my "other" idol and when I became a NL fan for life. We moved to the Jersey side of Philly when I was 12. I went to a couple of Phillies games over the 4+ years that I lived there, but I never adopted the Phils as my favorite team. We moved to Indy when I was 17. My first of two world series games was in 1961. I watched the Yankees beat the Reds on their way to a 4 games to 1 world championship. Over the years, I've been to several Reds games in Crosley, Riverfront, and the Great American Ballpark. I also have been to several Cubs games at Wrigley over the years. In 1995, my family's birthday/father's day gift was a family outing to a Cubs-Dodgers game at Wrigley. My 60th birthday was a family surprise party at an Indianapolis Indians (AAA International League). I was truly surprised and deeply touched. My second world series game was in 2005 at Comiskey as the guest of my college roommate. Just this past summer, for my 65th birthday, the family arranged an outing to an Indpls. Indians game. Like several of you, baseball has been an integral part of the fabric of my life. It's a wonderful pastime.
Here is a story I wrote in another venue a few years back. True story... It was a crisp autumn night in Cincinnati, late September, 1964. It was a meaningless game pitting the Cincinnati Reds against the St. Louis Cardinals and a half full Crosley Field bore testament to the fact. My father brought me to the game with a pair of last minute tickets he acquired at work. The familiar ballpark smells filled the air, roasted peanuts, cigars and hot dogs on the grill. We settled in to our seats to watch the game and the innings passed by quickly with little scoring or fanfare. Late in the game a pinch hitter emerged from the Cardinal dugout. He moved slowly and wallked to the plate slightly hunched over. My father immediately straightened in his seat and said " I know this old guy doesn't look like much now but he is one of the greatest hitters in the game". My attention was now riveted on the hunched over figure at the plate who promptly laced a line drive single to center field. My dad smiled with satisfaction and I later realized that I had witnessed the final hit in the career of "The Man", Stan Musial. On a hot summer night in Cincinnati, August, 1986 a father and his excited son entered Riverfront Stadium followed by the youngster's grandfather walking slowly, hampered by his bad hip. It was a meaningless game between the Cincinnati Reds and the San Diego Padres. It was the young boy's first big league ballgame and he could barely contain himself as they settled into their seats. In the 6th inning the Reds inserted a pinch hitter into the lineup. He was a short, stocky figure as he swaggered to the plate, his black hair tinged with grey. The father told his son "I know he doesn't look like much now but this is one of the greatest hitters to ever play". On the second pitch the hitter lined an opposite field hit down the left field line. Instead of holding at first he turned the base and ran to second as fast as he could, sliding in safely head first. The crowd, including the little boy, went wild. The youngster had just witnessed a classic baseball moment courtesy of "Charlie Hustle" himself, Pete Rose. I looked at the little boy's grandfather. My dad looked back at me. We did not speak. Our moistened eyes said everything. The circle was complete.
Great stuff Krebsie.....I was fortunate enough to take my little guy to Yankee Stadium - the original - a few years back for his first major league ballgame. Quite a day for us both. I asked a New York cop to take our pictures with all our Yankee garb on and have it framed in my office. I don't know what it is about fathers, sons and baseball, but it is.......very special stuff and sadly, I think it's getting away from us.......maybe it's me, but it just doesn't seem the same.
This stuff, to me, is what truly makes sports great. I have to say though, you guys are really ageing yourselves. I am truly passionate about 2 teams: the Vols and the Braves. I became a Braves fan in 1991, I was 9 years old. It's kind of funny. My Dad was never a big sports fan. He did like NASCAR but I don't remember my Dad watching a baseball, football, or basketball game until I became a fan. I remember the '91 Series because we were at my parents' friends' house and they were watching the game. I don't remember what game of the Series it was but that was the first game I ever remember watching. The next season I watched the Braves on TBS very closely and became a Dave Justice fanatic. He was my childhood baseball hero. The miraculous game 7 victory over the Pirates happened at the end of that season. I also will forever cherish all those summer and early fall nights spent watching the Braves with my Dad. I don't do that now since the Braves are no longer on TBS and I don't live at home but those memories are etched in my mind forever. My love for the Vols began the same year when they took down Notre Dame in the epic comeback game. I can remember jumping up and down in my parents' living room with my sister as Tennessee came back from a 31-7 deficit to win 35-34. I also remember the 1993 tie with Alabama that broke Tennessee's losing streak in the series and the '95 win over Georgia on a field goal by freshman kicker Jeff Hall who would go on to play a pivotal role in Tennessee's rise to national prominence in the mid to late 90s and the national title season in '98. All of those were great memories that made me a Vol football fan for life.