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“Play Ball!” and The World Plays Along
A haphazard geezer fan gets a reminder about baseball magic
The crowds! The organ music! The peanuts! The chants, the cheers! The excitement!
Oh, and the ballgame!
It’s all in an afternoon — or evening — for millions of American sports fans, so I don’t pretend to be saying anything new. But plunging into it after a decade’s absence amounted to a sight for new eyes — and what a view.
In an earlier life I was drenched in ballgames. My late beloved husband, Bud Johns, covered sports for the Flint (MI) Journal when he was still in high school, worked his way through college officiating games of all sorts (when he wasn’t playing one) and throughout his life covered and/or followed every sport known to TV. I once came home to find a curling match on. I draw the line at curling.
Baseball, though, was number one. Beginning with several 1940s Negro League players who became lifelong friends, he kept a mental file of players, games, batting averages and obscure trivia that boggled more sports-oriented minds than my own. For decades I was a San Francisco Giants fan with the ultimate personal game guide.
Then life intervened.
