Baseball―not what it used to be but . . .

My love affair with major league baseball died back in 1957 when the Brooklyn Dodgers moved to Los Angeles.  I was twelve years old, and the abrupt, forced detachment from my childhood idols was a real slap in the face. Watching the wrecking ball demolish beloved Ebbetts Field was like viewing one’s best friend being beat up by the neighborhood bully.  It wasn’t pretty.

I can’t say I lost all interest in the National Pastime, but my relationship with the sport would never again be quite the same.  Initially, there was a brief flirtation with the New York Yankees (probably my first act of passive aggression) that lasted until 1962 and included my only visit to a World Series game (Cincinnati Reds in 1961).  All I can recall was that I sat in the bleacher section in centerfield.  I don’t even remember who won the game.

But I was born a National League fan, so when the New York Metropolitans slipped into the vacancy created by the departure of the Dodgers, it was only natural that I would become a follower of the orange and blue.  Nineteen sixty-nine was the year of “You Gotta Believe,” and then there was 1986, which helped salve the wounds of the seven-game loss in the ’73 World Series against the Oakland A’s.  After that, it all started to go downhill, and eighteen years ago, when I moved to North Carolina, I officially lost all interest in the sport—until this year.

It’s funny, but when I think of baseball, I always associate it with sunshine—not high powered electric lights.  It was a day game, not something that ran into the next day.  There was something special about sitting in the stifling summer heat, my young bottom pressed against the hard wood of a grandstand seat, and my lungs filled with the smoke from cheap cigars.  Ah, those were the days.  The only sounds were crowd noise, the crack of a leather ball against a wooden bat, and the organ music that wafted through the air between innings.  The scoreboard kept score—and not much else.  It was all we needed, except maybe a hot dog and an orange drink.  (Back then it was actually possible to buy a snack without taking a mortgage on one’s home.)

Fast forward to today.  There are so many noises and distractions that the game itself seems almost an afterthought.  The cost alone to attend a game is truly prohibitive for ordinary folks.  Add to that the declining skills of good base running, accurate throws, and solid defense, and you have the “modern game.”  In the “good old days,” pitchers pitched complete games.  In the final game of this year’s World Series, neither starting pitcher exceeded three innings.  But there was no shortage of hair.  Prime example was Justin Turner of the Dodgers, who reminds me of one of the Muppets (both have orange hair and lots of it—on top of their heads and on their faces).

Before you call me a hypocrite for criticizing the game and then watching it anyway, let me say this:  I enjoyed the World Series (the right team won, too!  And it didn’t hurt that the ‘Stros were originally from the National League).  There were a record number of home runs hit (batters, too) and lots of pitchers to watch.  But the game bears no resemblance to the one I loved as a kid.  And that’s okay.  I’m 72 now, and it’s good to discover new things.  After all, that’s what keeps us young.

 So am I back in baseball’s corner?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  At my age, I reallly can’t remember.  Anybody see my remote control? 


If you enjoyed this post, please feel free to share it with a friend, or reblog it on your own site. If you’d like to follow my blog, just click on the “follow” button at the lower righthand corner of the page. You’ll be asked to enter your email address and you’ll receive a confirmation email in return. I only post one per week, and I never share email addresses. To learn more about me and my writing, please visit my website at: http://www.joeperronejr.com.
Advertisements

About AuthorJoePerroneJr

I am a former professional fly-fishing guide, and I write the Matt Davis Mystery Series, which presently consists of five books: As the Twig is Bent, Opening Day, Twice Bitten, Broken Promises and Deadly Ransom. The series is set in the real town of Roscoe, NY, in the Catskill Mountains, where I guided for ten years. I love fly fishing, movies, cooking (and eating), and music. To learn more about me and my writing, please visit my website at: http://www.joeperronejr.com.
This entry was posted in Humor, Nostalgia and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to Baseball―not what it used to be but . . .

  1. allenrizzi says:

    I used to love going to the games of our “farm team” in Eugene, Oregon. Why? The scores were always something like 28 to 17 – Lots and lots of action!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The game has changed as have the other major league sports. None of them is recognizable when compared to the games we knew. Much like you, I gave up on baseball about the same time.I have also given up on watching any NBA games. I am close to that point with the NFL. Checkers anyone?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Smiling… Remembering the good ole days when we sang “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,” and read and reread “Casey at the Bat.” Those were the days! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. balroop2013 says:

    Nice to see you back Joe and look forward to your weekly posts. Welcome back after 5 months! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Allie P. says:

    I haven’t been a baseball fan since the strikes in the 80s/90s, but my stepdad is a huge Dodgers fan sticking with them even after the move. He was definitely glued to his seat this year.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Thanks, Clint. My brother has remained a loyal Dodgers supporter, despite their defection. They’re a heck of a team.

    Like

  7. I remember when the Dodgers came to L.A. and became “my” team. Sorry it came at your expense. Great observations, Joe.

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.