I got my second glove at age 12 when I managed to save up $3.00 to purchase it. That original glove from Dear-friend, ole Santa Claus, I still have. Candy put it in a “shadow” box for me.
Years later, after we moved to Oregon, Z. Tyler, who was “3” by then, would
come get me and say, “Det your old dove,
Bapa, and play ball with me!”
I’d oblige him and in our garage I
taught him to pitch; the kid showed amazing
talent. At that tender age he already had good control and the ball “popped”
the glove pocket when itlanded/.
When Z. was 9 months old we had bought
him a short plastic bat and two balls. He would hold the bat in one hand, a
ball in the other above his head; he’d drop the ball, grasp the bat with both
hands and “hit” the ball “in mid-air”
True story! I know adults that can’t do that. A Natural!
When I was a kid listening to ball games
on the radio, the Yankees were my
favorite team; I adored The “Mick”, Mickey
Mantle, and his teammate, Roger Maris,
both home-run sluggers, and, of course, my pitching idol, lefty, Whitey Ford! The Yankees owned baseball back then.
Somewhere, I managed to secure a very
“few” baseball cards; my “heroes” were among them.
Some seven years later, I’d get real serious about baseball card
collecting with Bobby Holden.
Brother John was born in cold January when I was 5 years of age; he didn’t
come home from the hospital for a few days and when we went to fetch him,
sister Sharon, age 2, and I waited in
the car with Grandma Aleda while Mom and Dad went in the building to get my new little brother. I was pretty
excited and probably challenged Grandma’s patience; finally, they came out of
the hospital but I couldn’t see my new kid-brother! What/ Wait-a-minute! Hmm!
Dad held the door,
helping Mom get into the passenger
seat; I leaned over the seatback.
“Where is my new brother?” I queried,
looking around, coming up “empty”.
Dad had gotten
behind the wheel, by then; he laughed, good-naturedly.
Mom smiled,
indulgently, at my impatience. She unfolded the corner of a blue blanket she
cuddled displaying our baby’s face to
me for the very first time. “He’s right here! He’s okay!”
Wow! I just stared
at the infant. Then, excitedly, “Can he play baseball with me?”
Mom replied with a
laugh, covering the baby, again, “It might be a few years, but, ‘Yes!’”
(Part 4 Tomorrow)
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