I try to remember the good ole days of Brooks Robinson, Mark Belanger, Boog Powell, Frank Robinson, Jim Palmer, Dave McNally, Mike Cuellar, Pat Dobson, Tippy Martinez, Paul Blair, Dave Johnson, Elrod Hendricks, Merv Rettemund, and Earl Weaver. I have a glove Brooks Robinson autographed the day he retired. Used to rent out rooms in my house in Lynchburg, VA so I could afford to drive up to Baltimore for weekend home series. I’d stay with my aunt and uncle in Essex, MD. They had a dog that ate better than most humans. I came downstairs for breakfast one morning and my aunt asked what I wanted and I replied, “Nothing special, whatever the dog had.” She threw a towel at me and I got bacon and eggs. I used to sit in the upper deck with Wild Bill’s group. Good times.
Great, great memories. Baseball has a way of keeping those moments for us, I think more than other sports. I remember the fragrance of the yellow mustard steaming up from the first hot dog I ate at a Tiger game as a kid (against the Orioles who won).
By the way, you should consider sending a personal essay of things like you wrote about to the remaining newspapers. Your writing is so high quality they should publish it.