Reggie

Well, the A's retired Reggie Jackson's number 9 yesterday, and waves of nostalgia are sweeping over me. He was my favorite player when I was a boy and I still remember my Dad taking me to the Coliseum all those years ago to see him play. At some ballparks the fans used to bring binoculars with them so they could see better, but at the Coliseum you always needed to bring a telescope if you wanted to catch any of the action. Lucky for us, though, my Dad managed to get tickets right behind the dugout and I got to see ol' Reg up close and personal, as they say. It was quite a thrill.

And then he left. Like a lot of A's players he had Charlie Finley problems, and when free agency arrived and his oppurtunity arose he couldn't get out of Oakland fast enough. Oh, the tears I cried when I heard the news. Well, not really. I was a lot older by then, but I don't think I ever forgave him. Especially since he left Oakland to go to Baltimore. I mean of all teams, those stinkin' Orioles. Ahhh, it still sticks in my craw.

I grew out of it, of course, and now he's come back and they've retired his number. Well, welcome back number 9, and forgive me if I stifle a yawn. You turned your back on me many years ago, and I'm afraid I have no hurrahs left for you.

Baseball

I think it was my Uncle Gary who took me to my first baseball game. It always fascinated me how Billy Crystal, when he was talking about his first ballgame, could remember the players, the situations, the counts, etc... in such exacting detail. I tell you, all I can remember about my first game was that it was a minor league game and one of the teams wore Red. That's it.

I do remember more about the first major league game I saw, though. It was the Dodgers and the Cubs at Chavez Ravine and the Dodgers had a lefty named Koufax pitching. And he threw really hard. Of course, sports wasn't nearly as big back in those days as it is now. There were no 24 hour cable networks or 24 hour sportstalk radio stations, and, in fact, the way a kid got to know the players was mostly through their baseball cards. I had a modest collection of baseball cards myself, and like most young boys at the time I used thumb through them and imagine that was me with a bat on my shoulder or my pitching arm cocked and ready to deliver a high, hard one. I wonder if anyone in this televised, 24 hour sports cycle world of today still remembers how those baseball cards used to fire the imagination. They made the players seem like gods.

Anyways, I got to see my gods in person for the first time that day, and I'll never forget it. I mean, there was Tommy Davis! I had his baseball card! And Maury Wills, and Billy Williams, and Ron Santo, and, oh my God, Ernie Banks! What a thrill that was, and I tell ya', other than the Dodger dogs that's the only memory I have. Billy Crystal may remember it was 2-2 fastball that Mantle hit to center field that brought in the winning run, but not me. I don't have a clue what the score was, or even who won, I just remember the hot dogs and the heroes, and I don't think I've seen a game since where the hot dogs tasted as good or the players seemed so magnificent.

Sigh... Yeah, I'm feeling a little nostalgic today.