Comments on: Father & Son — Big Leaguers

By: bobabooie

bobabooie — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 22:54:06 +0000

My father was a big time Yankee fan (he was from Westchester County, NY which neighbors the Bronx) and was one of the million or so (The old Yankee Stadium held about 60,000) persons who claimed to have been at Don Larson’s perfect game in ’56 (I asked, no ticket stub extant). At one time the Yankees were very important to us, father and son, he even convinced the groundskeeper in the old Yankee Stadium (Center field a distant 464 feet to home plate) to let us on the field on an off day. (Try that today in their new Bronx fortress.) Then he divorced my mom. I had dinner only twice at my fathers house after he left……the first time was the earliest that I had ever eaten dinner (the sun was still shining bright, then after my dad asked me if I had had enough me and my sister were hustled back to our own house five minutes and a world away) the second time we were to have a special dinner (turned out to be hot dogs) which was cancelled due to the new step mom’s retching.

By: CMcFood

CMcFood — Thu, 06 Dec 2007 00:55:11 +0000

11. My dad grew up in the Baltimore area, mostly with his aunt and uncle because his mother died young and his father could not care for he and his several siblings, so they were split up among several relatives. I asked him if he was an Orioles fan growing up, but I don't think he was a much of a baseball fan at all. He was a natural lefty, but the prevailing belief at the time, at least at the school he went to, was that kids should write with their right hand regardless, that left-handedness was some sort of flaw that could and should be corrected. It kind of screwed up the way he writes and throws, so on the rare occasion I could get him to play catch with me, I end up chasing the ball half the time because he couldn't throw very straight. Fortunately I had brothers and other kids around to play with.

By: Josh Wilker

Josh Wilker — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 18:47:25 +0000

10. 9 : Peanuts are not considered a fruit by me, and, as you know, Ramblin' Pete, my word is the law on such matters. I'll eat peanut M & Ms, and in fact nowadays have no real preference between plain and peanut M&Ms, but I guess when I was a kid I preferred fewer complexities whenever possible. Raisinets are beneath contempt, in the lowest circle of candy hell along with (ugh) Chunky. I'm not real clear on what Goobers are . . . chocolate covered peanuts, maybe? If that's the case, they're OK by me.

By: ramblin pete

ramblin pete — Tue, 21 Aug 2007 00:04:39 +0000

9. A moving post, yes.

Are peanuts considered to be a fruit?
I have fond memories of your painstakingly picking raisins out of your trail mix, but I thought you were OK with the peanuts…

Where did you stand on goobers and raisinets?

By: ToyCannon

ToyCannon — Mon, 20 Aug 2007 22:45:14 +0000

8. Great stuff. I had a father and four older brothers to play baseball with. Baseball was the center of my families life. I consider myself very lucky.

By: David Brotsky

David Brotsky — Sun, 19 Aug 2007 23:27:35 +0000

7. excellent, Josh.

and here you said this was just a blog about baseball cards… i love how you make it about so much more…..

keep up the great work.

By: Catfish326

Catfish326 — Sun, 19 Aug 2007 17:47:47 +0000

6. Josh,

As you know, my dad died last week. Over the past week, my younger brother has been having anxiety attacks and my sister has lost 6 pounds. It’s been tough. I’ve been thinking back about everything. I was trying to think about what my Dad has taught me, if anything at all. The best I can come up with is, he showed me that if you squish the air out of a milk carton, and then place the lid back on, it takes up less space in the trash. Wow. That was it. Thanks Dad.

The only aspiration he ever had, that he told me about, was that he always wanted to fuck a gymnast. He died without realizing his one dream….

Never stop writing Josh. Ever.

By: Brent is a Dodger Fan

Brent is a Dodger Fan — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 17:36:49 +0000

5. This makes me want to ask my Dad how he learned to play ball. I know it was his mother who took him to games (not his father), including seeing the Cubs in the World Series (hasn’t happened since, you know).

It also makes me think of my Dad’s old glove. He has a newer one, but when my brother and I were growing up, Dad used an old first-baseman’s glove, a lefty’s glove, that looks like two oblong ovals stitched together. Really, nothing like what any gloves look like today, or since the 70′s.

I’m sure he still has that glove.

By: spudrph

spudrph — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 16:06:28 +0000

4. Jaw droppingly good.

Come on, Josh, what’s your REAL name? You can’t possibly still be unpublished when you write this well.

Fess up!

By: daryl

daryl — Fri, 17 Aug 2007 07:47:49 +0000

3. I find it interesting to see how families have changed some each generation. I think there will be very few fathers anymore that wouldn’t have some understanding of baseball. I remember only a few times where my dad ever really played baseball or even catch with us. That and things like fishing, there never seemed time for when I was growing up. I remember as a kid thinking there was always time for these if he would have tried harder. Now that I am the dad, I realize how hard it is and your writing just reminded me I need to try harder.

Of course, St Louis has been in the 100s for the last week or so, so playing outside just isn’t happening right now. Good stuff as always.