But I'm Much Better Now
[January 12th] -- For my regular readers (and thanks to both of you), you read me wax poetic about "when I was a kid." You know. "When I was a kid, [enter sappy baseball story here]." You might begin to wonder if any kid could be that one dimensional.
This is a picture of me taken in 1968, when I was twelve. We were living at the Lake Barcroft apartments, just a few blocks down Leesburg Pike from Seven Corners. If memory serves, I had just roped a double down the line off of Jim Perry of the Twins, and I was coming out of the batters box, heading towards first.
Or so I believed.
I wish I could tell you that I didn't wear baseball socks with dress slacks and penny loafers all the time, but I did. It seemed so, oh, I don't know, so "normal" I guess. It wasn't of course.
Look over my left shoulder. That's a Christmas tree. Not much of one to be sure. My mother had died less than year earlier, and my father wasn't ready to begin celebrating life again. But here it is, Christmas, and I'm wearing a short sleeve shirt and baseball garb [shake head in disbelief here]. After my dad took this picture, I went downstairs and bounced a tennis ball off the side of the apartment building. I flipped my fantasy switch to the on position and was instantly transported to RFK. Danny Cater lines a shot down the third base line, snagged by Kenny McMullen. Popup to short, Brinkman circles under and makes the catch. Fly ball to left ... and Howard drops the ball! (hey I was being realistic). There was ten inches of snow on the ground.
I was wearing an old Air Force parka. I could see my breath and couldn't find the ball when it dropped into the snow.
And I was playing baseball.
Yes, a kid can be that one dimensional.
NOTE: This is my son Korth. He knows how to dress for baseball much better than his daddy ever did.
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