[Scoutmaster]

1967.

Seattle.

I was one of three boys in a baseball-crazy family, all with summer birthdays. A case of Topps cost $3 and you knew what you were getting from the other two brothers for your birthday - they'd go in together on a case and you'd have that wonderful two hours of opening packs, sorting and trading cards, and chewing terrible gum.

The sports announcer on KOL radio ("Colorful KOL - Thirteen Double O!") mangled Yastrzemski's name on the radio that summer and called him something like "Yazzleputski."

In our family, Yazzleputski won the last Triple Crown, and it will always be Yazzleputski.

Congratulations, Cabrera.

[cripplecreek]

I was one of three boys in a baseball-crazy family, all with summer birthdays. A case of Topps cost $3 and you knew what you were getting from the other two brothers for your birthday - they'd go in together on a case and you'd have that wonderful two hours of opening packs, sorting and trading cards, and chewing terrible gum.

I was thinking yesterday about the way baseball has tied generations of families together. My great grandparents were Tiger fans and the game was on at their house every day during the summer. Some of my earliest memories were of my dad sitting in the car listening to Ernie Harwell saying "He takes strike 3 standing there like a house by the side of the road". Today my cousins and I talk Tiger baseball on holidays.