A little of this and a little of that

Douglas A-26 Invader

I wrote a series on the Douglas A-26 Invader a little over a month ago. I continue to do research on the Douglas A-26's service as a tanker in the U.S. and in Canada. I have been having a blast doing so. I still have a couple of irons in the fire, so to speak, so it will be awhile longer before I post the series on the A-26 as a tanker. As some of you no doubt know, the A-26 served as a tanker in Canada for a many years. I have enjoyed learning a little bit more about wildland firefighting in Canada, and at the same time, I am learning a bit of geography. I have had the privilege of some old and new friends who have flown the A-26 who have been helping me. Thank-you.

Spring Fire Season in NJ

We had a couple of days of rain the end of last week which I believe helped to calm things down for a bit. While things may have been a little quieter for the last few days, we all know that fire danger can change quickly this time of year.  The SEATs continue on contract in all three divisions in NJ, the ending date depending on the division, see the schedule at the right of this blog. Here is an article on the spring wildfire season and what we can do to reduce wildfire risk, from North Jersey dot com.

Prescribed Burns

The prescribed burn season here in New Jersey was over in March before the SEATS went on contract. However, I'd like to share a nice article that recently came across my electronic desk on the importance of prescribed burns in the New Jersey Pine Barrens, go to this Philly dot com article.

Speaking of prescribed burns, it is now or will soon be prescribed burn season in Vermont.  Apparently, at least in the central and southern part of Vermont, prescribed burn season is for two weeks only. Vermont is near and dear to my heart, so I do try to look out for news on anything related to wildfire activity including but not limited to prescribed articles. For more information on planned prescribed burns in Vermont read this article from the Bennington Banner.

Scenic flights

I don't write much about the scenic flights I take with some wonderful pilots. I try to go up every three weeks but that doesn't always work out. For various reasons, it has been about six weeks since I went on my last flight. It has been too long. I have been itching to get back in the air for a couple of weeks now. If everything works out, I hope to go on another scenic flight early next week. Looking forward to that.

The Not So Mundane

Spring is here and with spring comes spring chores, planting, and gardening. And the never ending weeding. I am in the process of getting estimates for a new roof, exciting, huh? 

And the best part about spring? Baseball. :)

Bob Gibson

I cannot write about baseball players who made an impact on me in my youth without writing about Bob Gibson. Bob Gibson pitched for the St. Louis Cardinals from 1959 through 1975, with lifetime stats of:

ERA: 2.91
Won/loss 251/174
Strikeouts 3,117

I was not a National League fan growing up, but I saw him pitch in three World Series, 1964, 1967, and 1968. St. Louis beat the Yankees in seven games in 1964, beat the Boston Red Sox in seven in 1967 before losing to the Detroit Tigers in 1968. He was an awesome pitcher and I hated him. I hated him because he was such a good pitcher who beat up on the American League.

I am sure that I watched the 1964 series. Asides from the fact that the Cards beat the Yankees, there was nothing much that stayed with me about that series. 1967 was another story. Gibson, killed the Red Sox. I watched most of that series, The Sox could do nothing against Gibson. The Sox scored three runs off Gibson in the three games that he pitched (1, 4, and 7). Gibson pitched on three days rest, pitching complete games in his starts. That year he had a 1.12 fifth on the list for single season leaders for lowest earned run average. In case you are wondering, Dwight Gooden had a 1.53 era in 1985 (43rd on the list). All the players ranked between Gibson and Gooden played prior to 1920. Think about it. All these years later, I still shake my head when I think about watching Gibson pitch that year.

In 1968, he had one bad game against the Tigers, giving up four runs in the seventh and deciding game, losing 4 to 0 to Mickey Lolich and the Tigers. Lolich gave up only one run, in the bottom of the ninth inning, a homerun by Mike Shannon, the Tigers third baseman. Those of you who are into such things know that the Detroit Tiger’s Denny McClain won 31 games that year, the last major league pitcher to win at least 30 games..

My hat is off to you, Bob Gibson. The hatred of my youth is replaced by awe and respect. Will we ever see a single season era lower than your 1967 era?

*With the exception of the reference to single season leader for era, the stats come from The Official Encyclopedia of Major League Baseball: Total Baseball, Seventh Edition (2001), Total Sports Publishing.

Frank and Brooks Robinson

It was difficult to be a baseball fan in the 1960s and not to know about Frank and Brooks Robinson of the Baltimore Orioles. Those of you who are baseball fans, know that they are not related. Brooks was the 3rd baseman and Frank played the outfield.

As I was checking out baseball stats for my recent baseball writing in The Official Encyclopedia of Major League Baseball: Total Baseball (seventh edition, 2001), I was reminded that Frank Robinson won the triple crown batting title in 1966, one year before Yaz. Considering that there have only been fourteen Triple Crown Batters in Major League history, it is notable that there were Triple Crown winners two years in a row.

That year, Frank hit 49 homers, 122 runs batted inn, and had a .316 batting average. That same year, not surprisingly, Frank was the American League MVP with Brooks finished 2nd and the Orioles Boog Powell finishing 3rd.. This was also the year that the Orioles beat the LA Dodgers in the World Series. Brooks got his own MVP in 1964.

Brooks was no slouch at the plate either and he played a mean 3rd base.

I would be remiss not to mention Boog Powell of the Orioles and give him his due, another awesome hitter. He won the MVP in 1970.

I actually think that I might have seen an Orioles game in person in either 1965 or 1966, but my memory is fuzzy, so I would not bet money on this.

I remember watching the Orioles on television in 1969, 1970, and 1971. I especially remember my disappointment that they lost the World Series to the Mets in 1969. Neither Frank nor Brooks hit during the series. Frank batted .188 and Brooks batted .053. That happens sometimes in the World Series. But I do not remember them for not hitting during the 1969 series, I remember them for all their accomplishments through the years, and their two World Series rings (1966 and 1979) and four American League Championships (1966, 1969, 1970, and 1971).

Carl Yastremzki and Harmon Killebrew

Carl Yastrzemzki (Yaz) of the Boston Red Sox won the last triple crown batting title in Major League Baseball in 1967. He had 121 runs batted in, a .326 batting average, and was tied with Harmon Killebrew of the Minnesota Twins with 44 home runs. I was thirteen that summer and remember the hitting competition between Yastremzki and Killebrew. It was exciting to watch (or read about in the newspapers). In addition, Boston and Minnesota were in a dogfight for the American League Championship during the last week of the season.

According to 1967 season statistics compiled by The Official Encyclopedia of Major League Baseball: Total Baseball (seventh edition, 2001), Yaz and Killebrew were 1 and 2 in the following categories:

Runs: Yaz 112, Killebrew 105
Total Bases: Yaz 360, Killebrew 305
Runs batted in: Yaz 121, Killebrew 113
MVP (American League) Killebrew finished a distant 2nd (161 votes) to Yaz (275 votes)

Killebrew got his MVP in 1969, the year they lost to the Orioles in the first American League Championship Series. That was the year of the “Miracle Mets.”

I remember watching both Yastrzmezki and Killebrew on television during the late sixties and early seventies. Yaz retired in 1983, and Killebrew retired in 1975. They continued a force at the plate after 1967, but 1967 was special.

Sandy Koufax

I don't think that I had any idea who Sandy Koufax was or what a great pitcher he was when I watched my first world series in October of 1963. I was still confined to bed, this time at home, recovering from my broken hip. My parents had purchased a small television (black and white) with a remote control that I kept in a little box near the hospital bed that they set up for me on the first floor. I was in a half body cast with the right leg free. So I wasn't going anywhere. So, I watched a couple of now defunct soap operas, cartoons, Dobie Gillis, and baseball. Oh, and I was supposed to be doing homework assigned by my home tutor who was supposed to be keeping up with my forth grade class.

In those days all the world series games were played in the afternoon. I suspect that as long as I did whatever homework assignment I had, or pretended that I had done my homework, that my mother would let me watch the baseball game. It was the Yankees versus the LA Dodgers. And I was rooting for the Dodgers. If you are so inclined, there is complete box score for this series found here. The Dodgers won in four games with Sandy Koufax winning two games. I watched Sandy Koufax in one more world series, the 1965 series

As a life long baseball fan, I am still awestruck by his lifetime earned run average (2.76). He retired at a fairly young age, somewhere around 30 years of age if I recall due to arm problems, perhaps arthritis. 165 wins. And hall of famer. Imagine what he could have done if he had been able to pitch longer.

Needless to say, Sandy Koufax was one of my first heroes, along with Don Drysdal. I knew that Sandy Koufax was special and in subsequent years I would find out how special he was. When people asked me what I wanted to do when I grew up, I would respond:

I want to be the first female pitcher on the Los Angeles Dodgers.

Day games in baseball

Looking back on my childhood experiences as a baseball fan, it feels like there were more baseball games played during the day. For example, I can remember asking my parents if I could leave school early to watch day games during the 1967 and 1968 World Series. When I was recovering from my broken hip at home, I can remember watching the 1963 World Series, the Yankees v. the Dodgers. I know for a fact that there had to be some day games in 1963 because I had an early bed time and would not have been allowed to stay up late to watch baseball.

Baseball writers and sports radio talk show host will frequently bemoan the lack of baseball played during the day, especially around World Series time. All I am going to say is that I am glad that there were more day games played during the week while I was growing up in the sixties. I feel fortunate because watching day games gave me an appreciation for baseball and some of the dominant players of the era that I might not have gotten otherwise. I will be writing about some of these players, so stay tuned.

PATH tubes to Yankee Stadium one last time

For many years we lived less than two miles from what are known as the PATH tubes, in this case the Newark to World Trade Center line. So, for all those years and continuing after we moved further west in NJ when we had need to go into NYC we would drive to Harrison, NJ and take the PATH tubes into lower Manhattan.

The lower Manhattan station, as many of you may know was in the World Trade Center. There were some escalators leading from the mall–like promenade to the PATH station. Sometimes we would meet up with people, usually my older cousin, at the top of the escalators leading to the PATH station. This was a good rendezvous point, and reasonably easy to get to from the west–side subways. I have many found memories of the PATH station at the World Trade Center and environs. It was for many years, our gateway to New York.

When we would go to Yankee games with Anne and were husband, we would usually meet up at our house in west Hudson County and drive the short distance to the PATH station. There were some reasonably clean bathrooms in the PATH station that we would use. They also were not too scary in that we were never afraid to use them.

So when we had tickets with Anne for a September Yankee home game we rendezvoused with Anne in the PATH station at the World Trade Center. We were living in western Jersey at this point and drove to Harrison where we parked our car and boarded the PATH train. We met Anne and her husband in the PATH station, used the facilities and got on the C train to start the subway trip to Yankee Stadium.

This was an ordinary Saturday in September. We had ended up being invited to a wedding of some friends in Massachusetts after we had already purchased the tickets to the Yankee game. So, we regretfully declined the invitation. I was scheduled to have thyroid surgery 12 days later, knew that I would be busy at work finishing up various projects, and was looking forward to spending that Saturday afternoon watching a baseball game with good friends.

My scorecard showed that the Yanks were playing the Toronto Blue Jays. David Cone was pitching for the Blue Jays and Mike Mussina was pitching for the Yanks. The Yanks beat the Jays by a score of 9 to 1.

The date was September 8, 2001.

A memorable baseball weekend (part 3): May 28, 2000 Red Sox v Yankees

The four of us had purchased tickets during the winter to the Yankees home game against the Red Sox on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. We did not know that this would be our second game of the weekend. Our friends husband had to miss the game because of a bad cold, so we had a ladies night out and an extra seat for our stuff. The seats were pretty decent seats on the third base line in the loge (second) level.

I don’t think that I kept a scorecard because I had a notation on Friday night’s scorecard that this game was a pitchers duel between Pedro Martinez and Roger Clements with the Sox winning in the top of the ninth inning. I dug up the box score for the game on the Internet. Both pitchers pitched nine innings. Martinez gave up four hits and no runs and Clements gave up five hits.

Watching the two pitchers battle it out was awesome. The Red Sox – Yankee rivalry is one of the oldest in baseball. Crowds at either ballpark are always highly energized, and the crowds during the two games we saw this weekend did not disappoint. But the crowd on that Sunday night was even more energized because the game was scoreless into the top of the ninth inning. No matter whether the game is played in Yankee stadium or Fenway Park (in Boston), there are always a representative number of fans from the opposing team in the ballpark.

There were two buddies in their twenties sitting in front of us, one a Yankee fan and the other a Red Sox fan. Both were wearing Jerseys from their respective teams and were razing each other about the respective opposing team. As the night went on, they continued to raze each other getting a little louder towards the end of the game. It was all in good fun and they were very respectful to us, and especially so to our friend, Anne. Anne took it in her stride, later commenting that she is often treated as if she was someone’s mother.

In the top of the ninth inning, Boston’s Trot Nixon hit a two–run homerun off of Clements to make it a two –nothing ballgame. We did not lose hope, hoping for a bottom of the ninth comeback. The home crowd got even more vocal and more energized. The Yanks did not score a run and the game ended.

By the way, Anne’s husband watched the game on TV.

A memorable baseball weekend (part 2): May 26, 2000 Red Sox v Yankees

I think we got to our seats in time for me to fill in the rosters for the Red Sox and the Yankees prior to the start of the game. The seats were great, a few rows back on the first base side. We felt like kids, none of us had ever had such good seats at a major league baseball game. We were a little above eye level with the field. Shortly after the start of the game a waitress assigned to our area came by. It seems that club seating comes with seat side food service. She gave us a menu and said that she would be back to get our order. Since it was a night game and none of us had time to eat dinner prior to leaving for the game, we had decided to eat dinner at the ballpark. I have a note on my scorecard that we spent $68 in food, seems that seat side food service comes at a premium. I did not make a note of what we ordered, probably sausages, fries, and a soda.

The Red Sox got off to a quick lead, at the end of the third inning they were leading by a score of 4 to 1. David Cone took the loss for the Yanks with Ramon Martinez notching the win for the Red Sox. The Yankees only run came in the bottom of the third by our reserve infielder, Bellinger (playing 2nd base that night) with a solo homerun.

The most entertaining part of the game came perhaps one–third of the way through the game. We noticed a buzz in the crowd and everyone was staring at something behind home plate. It took us awhile to figure out what was going on. Finally, we looked in the netting behind home plate and saw a body lying in the net. We looked in stunned silence at the body before the body stirred and attempted to climb up the netting. The crowd cheered when they saw that the body, male, was indeed alive. He got up, took some bows and tried to climb back up the netting. It became obvious to us that he was drunk, because he was unsteady on his feet and kept falling down as he tried to climb back up the netting. We started to boo. At some point, we looked up in the stands over where he had fallen in the netting and saw some of New York’s finest. They were ready to cart him away. And when he finally got back up, they did escort him out of the area. And probably out of the stadium.

The game went on and we had a great time. We enjoyed being so close to the action. We were in foul ball territory. Nothing came our way, but I have a note on my scorecard that two balls bounced off the scoreboard near our seats.

At the end of the game, we walked a short distance to the parking lot. Since this was the first time any of us had driven to the stadium, the traffic jam inside the garage caught us all by surprise. Writing this almost eight years later, I want to say that it took us 30 minutes to leave the garage. The reality was that it was perhaps half that time. We resolved never to drive to the stadium again. The trip home involved going back a different way from the one we used to get to the stadium. I don’t believe that this was our intended route, but it worked out. We got back to Manhattan and eventually back to the GW bridge for the trip home.

A memorable baseball weekend (part 1): car trip to Yankee Stadium

Perhaps the most memorable Yankee game we attended was on Friday May 26, 2000. I think this was the Friday of Memorial Day weekend. I got a telephone call that afternoon in my office from a good friend of mine. Her husband had just been offered four tickets to that nights game with free parking. The Yanks were playing a home series against the Boston Red Sox. I jumped at the chance for club seating. Now, the four of us had tickets for the Sunday night game against the Red Sox, and none of us wanted to pass up the chance to have such good seats. These seats are only available to season ticket holders. We thought it would be fun. What could be better for a baseball fan then a Yankee baseball in the Bronx against the Red Sox on Memorial Day weekend?

Our first adventure was driving to the Bronx. Our friends picked us up at our home. We were living not far from one of the exits to the New Jersey Turnpike. Given the fact that it was Memorial Day weekend and we had cross that bridge, otherwise known as the George Washington Bridge (GW Bridge), we allotted extra time for our trip to the Bronx. As we all expected, we ran into traffic perhaps a mile or so before the tolls at the GW Bridge. We were in what are known as the local lanes. The traffic was inching forward when we noted that a young man in a nearby car got out of the car, saying that he would be back in a moment. He climbed up the wall and disappeared. We entertained ourselves wondering where he was going, coming up with a few possibilities that I won’t go into here. A few minutes passed, more than enough time for him to do whatever business he was doing. The three of us (passengers) peered out the window waiting for him to return to the car. We were still close enough that the wonderer could have returned to his car. Several more minutes passed, and he did not return and we were beyond the last exit in NJ. We wondered what happened to him and how he would get to wherever it was that he and his friend in the car where going.

Our next adventure came as we prepared to cross the GW Bridge. Game time was beginning to creep up on us, and we faced more traffic. My friend’s husband knew how to get to Yankee Stadium from Manhattan. It went well, he knew the way and there was little to no traffic. He dropped us off near the ballpark before driving to the parking garage and joined us about fifteen minutes later. We went to our seats on the first base line: section D, box 73. I’ll write about the game itself tomorrow.

Summer of 1991

The summer of 1991 was a very busy time for me at work and school. Baseball was my comfort food that summer and early fall. The Yankees, while far from the greatness they were to display in the late 1990s were better than they were the year before when the finished in the cellar of the American League East.

When I was not working or studying, I was watching baseball or hiking. Oh, yes and there were household chores and that dribble.

Baseball played a very important role as summer turned to fall. I was getting a little stressed out over a difficult project at work  Baseballwas about the only thing that would calm me down. It is hard to explain. There was the comfort of going to Yankee stadium on Saturdays, watching the game and keeping score. In addition to enjoying keeping score as I watch a game, I hoped to do so correctly where my card matched the one in the paper the next day. Keeping score requires paying attention. There are no announcers telling you what is going on, so if you are not paying attention you are going to miss how a baserunner gets on base. For the whole point is to keep track of every pitch to every hitter. The Saturday games helped to take me away from the rigours of my exam preparation.

As my project neared completion, I took great comfort in following the 1991 post season. Before I cheat and look at my Baseball Almanac, I’ll say that either the Oakland Athletics or the Minnesota Twins won the World Series that year. Now I’ll go and look, yes the Minnesota Twins took the series against the Atlanta Braves, 4 games to 3. In what the Baseball Almanac called one of the great ones.

One of the players on the Minnesota Twins that year was a third baseman named Mike Pagliarulo. Mike Pagliarulo or “Pags” played for the New York Yankees in the 1980s going to the San Diego Padres before ending up with the Twins in 1991. I enjoyed cheering him on as he got a World Series Ring.

That same year, the Braves had a 24-year–old left handed pitcher, Mike Stanton. Mike Stanton played with Yankees from 1997 through 2000, the lefty out of our bullpen winning three World Series rings with the Yankees.

People in the stands

The first couple of years we had our Saturday season tickets we had tickets in the upper deck behind home plate. These were decent seats about half–way up in nosebleed territory. For me part of the experience of attending a baseball game is watching the people around us in the stands. If your team is playing well then there is a special celebratory camaraderie. If they are not playing well, as was often the case during the time we had our season tickets, well there is the bond of hanging in during the hard times.

We soon began to recognize other nearby season ticket holders and other regular characters. Sitting in front of us was a “family” from Queens. I knew they were from Queens because we saw them on the subway on Saturday at one of stations where riders from one of the Queens lines transferred to our Bronx–bound “D” express train. From appearances, they were a married couple with an adult son. The older man always had recent stats on the visiting team including a press guide along with a small notebook where he recording information. He did this every Saturday for the two years we had these tickets. One Saturday we overheard him talking to his son about the Mets, leading us to believe that they may have regularly attended Mets games, perhaps a Saturday plan? Most of the time, the Mets and the Yankees are not home at the same time so it is conceivable that one could be regular attendees at both teams’ home games.

We wondered what this gentleman was doing with his notebook and visiting team guides. Was he a very serious baseball fan, a participant in a fantasy baseball league, or something else? We never did fid out.

There were other season ticket holders around us in the upper deck. Most were like us, out to enjoy a game, perhaps keeping a scorecard like I did. Some had a portable radio. They were young, middle–aged, and seniors, coming alone or with a friend, spouse, parent or a child.

A father and adult son were near by. The son would often engage in a running commentary about the game, along the lines of a radio or TV announcer. Perhaps some would this running commentary annoying, we found it entertaining.

Then there was an older gentleman who would walk around the stadium with a small pot that he would bang with a spoon. I don’t exactly remember what he would chant as he banged his pot, but others in the stand would get in the act. He would offer the spoon to people in the stands, especially children, who would bang on the pot and chant.

The third year we had season tickets, we moved down to the third–base side of the lower level. Most of the seats around us were taken by an every changing parade of groups. We wondered if the family from Queens still had their tickets. We saw them one Saturday on the subway platform and had our answer. We wondered about the man, who walked the stands banging his pot, we were reassured when we saw him.

Rookies

Most of the time we got to the stadium about 20 to 30 minutes prior to game time. Arriving at the stadium, there was a feeling of anticipation in the air on game day. Even during the 1990 season when they were cellar dwellers. It might be the excitement of watching the young players wondering if they might be the next breakout player or a flash in the pan. For example, Bernie Williams came up in 1991 when we had season tickets, and we saw him play at least twice in 1991 and once in 1992.

My scorecard for a game played on October 5, 1991 shows that he had 5 hits in 6 at bats with two RBIs in a twelve inning loss to the Cleveland Indians. He was in the game the first game we saw in 1992 against the NY Mets on April 4. This was in the days prior to interleague play when the Yankees and Mets would meet for a couple of preseason games. He lead off the game, according to my score card he reached first on an error. Kevin Mass batted him home. \

Kevin Maas was one of those “flash in the pan” players. He hit very well when he first came up. He came up in June of 1990, hitting 21 homeruns that year, and 23 the next years. His hitting slacked off drastically after that. Eventually, the pitchers started to figure out how to get him out, and he never again was the dominant hitter he was during his rookie year. But he was fun to watch in 1990, adding some excitement to a bad year when the Yanks finished in the cellar. According to my Baseball Encyclopedia he played four more seasons, finishing up with the Baltimore Orioles.

Another player who only played a few months in the majors was a right–handed pitcher named Wade Taylor. He game up in June of 1991 with another right–handed pitcher, Scott Kamieniecki. We say him pitch one game on June 22. He pitched for 7 and one-third innings giving up 5 hits, 4 runs, 3 earned runs, 2 walks and 6 strikeouts.

There are a lot of baseball players like Kevin Maas and Wade Taylor that don’t make it in the majors. Some, like Kevin Mass have their day in the sun, others are like Wade Taylor and only play in the “bigs” for a few months. Many would kill to have the chance to play in the majors.

Riding the subway to Yankee Stadium

I moved to New York City in the mid seventies and began watching or listening to Yankees games. For reasons that I won’t go into here, the road to becoming a Yankees fan evolved over the next fifteen years or so. What turned the corner for me was having season tickets to the Yankees to a Saturday plan for three or four years in the early 1990s.

About two and one–half to three hours before game time we would drive the short distance to the local light rail station, aka the PATH tubes into Manhattan where we would take the subway to Yankee stadium in the Bronx. Our transfer point from the PATH to the subway was the PATH station in the World Trade Center. We had one more transfer point, West Fourth Street in Manhattan where we would catch an “express subway train” to the Bronx. If we were lucky, the trip was a little more than one hour. If we were not lucky, it could be two hours. The usual travel time was a little more than 1.5 hours.

We would always see other Yankee fans on our ride to the ballpark, especially on the subway in Manhattan. The stop for Yankee stadium was the first stop in the Bronx and the subway would empty, sometimes literally, as we left the subway to go to the ballpark.

Most of the time the worst that happened was that we would have to wait for the subway. Going to the ballpark, was not so bad. Leaving the ballpark was another story. Remember that the ballpark is in NYC, and even if you had a car like we did, many take mass transit of some sort to the ballpark. So, at the end of the game, the crowds would descend to the subway station back to Manhattan. There were two subway lines to Yankee Stadium and both were equally crowded after the game.

If we were lucky, we would get to the subway platform just after a train arrived so the platform would not be crowded. Most of the time we were not lucky. We would get to the platform to find wall-to-wall people. Having lived in Manhattan for over four years in my early twenties, I learned some tricks to dealing with crowded subway platforms. One was to go the opposite end of the platform from the entrance. We would politely make our way to what was the southern most end of the platform, the least crowded end. Sometimes the least crowded end of the platform only meant that you were not standing in a sardine can. The worst was when it was hot and humid. Our subway was underground, no breeze, and it often smelled. The wait may have only been a couple of minutes, sometimes as long as ten or more minutes.

Sometimes the train that came along would be so crowded that we could not board the train. At other times, we would let the packed subway leave, gambling that the next one would be less crowded. Sometimes we would take the local train back to Manhattan. Once we got on the subway, people would be buzzing about the game. As you can imagine, the flavor of the buzzing depended on if the Yankees won.

I said that most of the time the worst that would happen was waiting for the subway on hot crowded platform with various subterranean odors. We never got on a subway that broke down, that happened to me once or twice when I lived in Manhattan. But late one Saturday night after a night game, something happened that had never happened before. We were on the local train from the Bronx that terminated at the World Trade Center. Our car was almost empty. A couple of stops before the World Trade Center we saw someone running through the train. Then we smelled a terrible odor. Someone had set off a stink bomb. Everyone got up and walked up a couple of cars to one that did not stink.

Behind homeplate

For my eleventh or twelfth birthday my Dad took me to baseball game. It was the second baseball that I had been to. He managed to get seats on the lower level behind home plate. I had a great time at the game even though we lost. My Dad taught me how to keep score at a baseball game. To this day, I can’t go to a baseball game without keeping score.

I did not appreciate at the time how wonderful those seats were. I remember thinking that it was a little disappointing to have to watch the game through the mesh screen behind home plate. What a snot I was. I hope that I had the sense to keep my mouth shut. I have been to quite a few baseball games since then and I there was only one time that I had seats that approached the quality of those seats. You can’t even get seats behind home plate in many ballparks as they are all spoken for by full season ticket holders

The best thing about that baseball game was going with my Dad. We had a great time.

As an adult I moved to New York City and then northern New Jersey and became a New York Yankees fan. We took my Dad to a New York Yankees game a couple of years before he passed. They were playing the Detroit Tigers, one of his favorite teams. He lovingly chided me for being a Yankees fan and proudly wore a Detroit Tigers hat.

When the baseball bug bit me

I remember when the when the baseball bug bit me. I was nine years old, the year I almost died. I spent a total of about nine weeks in the local hospital, first with a very serious bone infection in my left hipbone called Osteomyelitis. I came home for a couple of weeks before broking my hip on or about July 4, 1963 and was in the hospital for another six weeks.

The first hospital stay occurred over my ninth birthday. I was at my sickest on my birthday, throwing the nurses out of my private room when they came into sing happy birthday. I also had one of the few TVs in the hospital in my room. I know this because I have memories of being very sick and watching TV. I remember game shows and baseball. Bone pain is the worst possible pain. It is hard to explain but the sounds on the TV, the sounds of baseball and game shows gave me some comfort. It was like there was something outside of the pain and the fever that I could focus on.

I also remember the room. The door was to the left of my bed. The bone infection was in my left leg, so I either lay on my back or on my right side. Lying on my left side where I would face the door was not going to happen.

I got better; I had a wonderful pediatrician, a real sweetie. I continued to watch baseball, game shows, comedies and cartoons.

During the first hospital stay, my parents moved to a new house across town. I remember being disappointed because he rented a pick–up truck for the move. I desperately wanted to ride in the pickup trip but I was not allowed to leave the hospital so I missed my chance. My Dad drove the truck to the hospital where I could see the truck from the window next to my bed in the four–bed ward that I was in pediatrics. It wasn’t the same.

I got out of the hospital sometime in early June, before school let out for the summer. I got out of the last few days of school. This suited me just fine because I hated school. When I got out of the hospital my family gave me another birthday party. Grandfather gave me some birthday money and I used it to buy a baseball glove.

The house we moved to was a really cool old farmhouse vintage mid 19th century with a wrap around porch. The house next door was on the corner and was owned by a nearby private school. The school rented the house out. The tenants when we moved in had two boys, Bebo was a year or two younger than me. Bebo was a nickname, I don’t remember his birth name. Bebo had an older brother named Rob. I think that Rob was sixteen or seventeen because I have it in my head that he drove a car.

So, I would hang out outside on my lawnchair in either my yard or Bebo’s yard with my sister, Bebo, and our basset hound. My leg was weak, so I could not move around a lot. After being in the hospital for a couple of weeks, the last place I wanted to be was in a house. Rob was nice to me and we probably talked about something, but we did not pay that much attention to each other.

I loved my baseball glove. I think I even slept with that glove. Whenever possible, I’d sit in my lawnchair and play catch with whomever else I could snag. Bebo was easy to snag, so he was a frequent partner. I spent as much time as I could outside, so I don’t really recall how much baseball I watched during this time. But I must have watched some games.

On or about July 4 we went swimming at a local swimming club. I remember this because it felt wonderful to actually move around. That is the night I fell and broke my hip. The pain was even more awful then the Osteomyelitis. I remember the pain and the whole neighborhood must have heard me. I found out later that Rob was especially upset at hearing my screams before my parents could get me to the hospital.

After I was readmitted to the hospital, I spent a couple of days in a private room. I was in traction with weights off my left knee and ankle. I was to remain in traction and in the hospital for six weeks. I have good memories of the private room because I faced the door of the room. Since I had nowhere to go, I got intimately familiar with whatever room I was in. It was probably a couple of days after my fall when I saw Rob walk through the door carrying a small magazine, the 1962 yearbook for the local baseball team. I remember being surprised to see him but the baseball yearbook put me at ease. We talked baseball for awhile then he left. Rob and Bebo and their family moved shortly after Rob’s visit. I never saw them again. And I will always remember them.

I found out later from my parents that Rob was very shook up when he heard me screaming in pain the night I broke my hip. My parents said that he wanted to come and visit me in the hospital before they moved. He would have known that I loved my baseball glove because I was never without it, so he would have known just what I would like.

I don’t remember how many times I read the yearbook from cover to cover. I knew every player and their stats. There is an advantage to being a sick kid in for a longtime stay, so I got one of the very few televisions in the hospital. In the mid sixties, there were many afternoon baseball games on TV, and it was the height of the baseball season. So, I watched baseball that summer. It did not take long for me to get hooked. I quickly learned the game. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do. And someone brought me my baseball glove. The local team was not very good, but that didn’t matter, the magic of baseball took over.

And I always remember Rob visiting me in the hospital with the baseball yearbook.

Opening day of baseball season

I have been a baseball fan since I was nine–years old. Like most baseball fans, one of the signs of spring is the first day of baseball season. Today is the first day of the season for many baseball teams. This year, the season actually opened in Japan last Tuesday when the Boston Red Sox played the Oakland Athletics for two games in Japan. Last night, in what was called the US opening day, the Washington Nationals hosted the Atlantic Braves in the opening of their new stadium in Washington D.C.

The Yankees home opener is this afternoon. As I write this, the game is in a rain delay. Perhaps they will get the game in today. Perhaps they will postpone the game and play it tomorrow afternoon instead. If so, that won’t be the first time. There is often a “free day” after a home opener in case of a rain out. A few years ago it snowed on opening day, only a couple of inches, and it had melted by the next day. I don’t think snow will be an issue, at least not in New York City.

I love the start of baseball season, not only for the promise of warmer weather, but because of hope. All the teams start out equal. There are no winners and losers on opening day. As April grows older and the teams work out the various kinks that always arise in those early games, the teams are no longer on a level playing field. There are winners and losers, but April baseball, is well April baseball. A bad start in April can be over come buy a few good series.

Not all teams can be “winners” or “in contention” for a playoff berth. If the team you are following seems to fall into this category, there is still plenty to enjoy. Most important, the season is not over until the last game is played the last weekend in September. So, if your team can stay competitive or has a “turnaround” in mid–season, there is hope.

And if you are reasonably certain that your team still has a way to go to be competitive in their division, what do you do? Can you enjoy the game? You can, you take pleasure in small things such as watching the young players develop, a well pitched game, rooting for your top hitters, and being a spoiler. Then there is finding humor, in well, being bad.

But I am getting way ahead of myself. Today, many teams are playing there first game, and there are no winners or losers.

R.I.P. Cory Lidle and Tyler Stanger

Cory Lidle, a pitcher for the New York Yankees, died yesterday when his plane crashed into a high rise on the east side of Manhattan. His flight instructor, Tyler Stanger, was with him and died in the crash.

Both were young men, dead well before their time. Cory was 34 and Tyler was 26. My prayers are with Cory’s and Tyler’s family and friends as they mourn their loved ones.

Their deaths hit me heard because of my relationship with baseball and the New York Yankees. I have been a baseball fan most of my life. I live with baseball and the Yankees for six months a year where games are played virtually every day. Baseball games on TV or the radio, conversations over dinner, newspaper accounts of games we missed, and listening to sports radio are a part of our routine during baseball season. In a sense, the ball players on the Yankees are like a part of our family. In his short time with the Yankees, Cory has already left his mark on many.

He left his mark on me. Perhaps it was because he was a starting pitcher. Perhaps it was because of his love of life. Perhaps it was because those who knew him well spoke of a normal guy who loved his family. Perhaps it was because he spoke his mind and didn’t shy away from the media. Perhaps it was because he died doing something he loved, flying.

I don’t know much about Tyler Stanger. I wish I had a way to give him equal time here. He was a flight instructor, so I suspect that he too was passionate about flying. He too left a mark on people, and he a way that is hard to explain, he has left his mark on me. Tyler, I am sorry that I never got to know you. Dead to soon.

Like many other Yankee fans, I was deeply disappointed by their early exit from the playoffs. Somehow, their loss to the Detroit Tigers seems unimportant, as does the usual post–season intrigue. Two young men are dead.

I don’t have any information on Tyler’s family. Cory and his wife Melanie, have a six–year old son, Christopher.

Rest in peace, Cory and Tyler. You will be missed.

Fall is my favorite time of year except . . .

Fall could be my favorite time of year. The weather in September and October, even into early November can be very pleasant. Like today, temps will be close to 70, nights are cool and crisp. The early morning chill gives way to moderate temps by mid-day. On a day like today, I would, at most, wear a long sleeve shirt as a stand-in for a light jacket.

The one thing that I don't like about Fall are my allergies. What I try to remember as a sometimes moan about the inconvenience of my allergies is that, all things considered, I don't have it so bad. If the worse thing that happens to me is that I suffer from sinsus congestion, I am a lot better off than many people who are in far worse health than I.

And then there are the baseball playoffs which start this week which is always a special time of year for this baseball fan.

Today is the last day of the baseball season, and some the playoff spots are still up in the air.

Final weekend of the baseball season

This is it. The final weekend of the baseball season. The Yankees clinched a few days ago, and are playing for home field advantage through out the playoffs. It still feels a little strange to even think about homefield advantage in the playoffs. I am going to date myself by saying that I remember when there was ONLY the world series. Well, those years are going, and now we have the designated hitter in the American League . . .

This is going to be an interesting final weekend of baseball, especially for the National League. The Mets clinched the east a couple of weeks ago and just lost one of their pitchers, Pedro for the playoffs. The NL central division is up for grabs with Cardinals, the Astros, and the Reds in the hunt. Though the Reds have to get lucky, IMHO to win. The NL west will be represented by the Padres or the Dodgers. And the Philies are still in the hunt for a wildcard berth.

I remember my first post season. 1963. I was recovering from that broken hip that I wrote about in my earlier entry on the solar eclipse. When you spend most of the summer in bed at the age of nine, what do you do? I watched baseball. Dodgers v. Yankees. I remember watching Sandy Kofax pitch and he was my hero. The Dodgers won in 4. I was too young and new to the game to fully appreciate Sandy Koufax. He had a 1.88 era. 1.88. Even in the National League, without the designated hitter, it is an almost unheard of era.

In the meantime, it is time for me to go back to the game.