My heritage is showing. I love baseball and I don't know why. It can't be because I am an American. We have a whole country full of them and a significant number of them ignore the game and some even hate it. It can't be because I was born in Chicago. They have always had two major league teams there since I can remember but there were friends of mine there who didn't know who Nellie Fox was.
But the game is something special to me. I have gone out of my way to see a game or two. I have seen the Major League game played at Fenway, Shea, the old and the new Yankee stadium, the Vet, Exhibition Stadium, Olympic Stadium, the old Comisky, Municipal Stadium, Tiger Stadium, and the King Dome.
I once took a trip with a friend over Labor Day week-end with a stop in Boston on Friday night, Montreal on Saturday night, and Toronto on Sunday afternoon, just to see three baseball games. Am I nuts? I don't think so. I had the time, the resources and the will. We saw all of the games too.
I went to Yankee Stadium one week to see the Yankees play Texas. I went back the next Saturday to see them play again and then went again the next day to see Seaver pitch for the White Sox in his 300th win. My partner is a Yankee fan and I despise them. Just before the tiles fell in Seattle a couple of seasons ago we went to three consecutive games between the Mariners and the Yankees.
In the summer of '72 I was in Appleton, Wisconsin so I went to see the old Appleton Foxes play. Here in Portland, I used to go see the Portland Beavers until greed took them to Salt Lake City. I haven't seen the Rockies play here yet but I plan to soon. I have seen the Colorado Rockies Eastern farm team, the New Haven Raven, play at Yale Field as well as having seen the New York Yankee's farm team, the Norwich Navigators, play their opening season at Dodd field. Last summer my partner and I tried three times to see the Portland Sea Dogs play in Portland, Maine but we missed them each time.
So what I am saying is that I like baseball.
Sunday night
March 3, 1996