Season Ticket: A Baseball Companion - Roger Angell Perhaps the greatest ever writer on matters related to baseball in the decade I grew up with the sport? Damn right I’m reading this! It only seems like Angell has been writing about baseball forever1. A significant chunk of his writings have come for The New Yorker, where he’s been an editor nearly forever as well. The collections of his New Yorker writings, organized by decade, are some of the finest baseball books around.
Good lord that was a long week. Long because there was much fun involved. Long because there was much effort involved. Long because there was much beer involved. Long because many hours were spent in the sun and water, both sucking the energy from our bodies. Long because, as tends to happen, sleep came at a premium. Long because I married into a big family and when we get almost the entire clan together in one house for a couple days, it’s a production.
Man, where did June go? Are we really over a third of the way through summer? This week is our annual family get together at the LVS. Folks began arriving yesterday and Thursday we’ll all head down to spend a few days in the water. In the meantime, the kids are taking trips to local water parks and pools, we’re having cookouts, and generally waiting for this wet weather pattern we’ve been stuck in to clear away.
I’m not sure there’s any conversation that is more difficult to have with your children than one about death. It’s hard enough for us adults to grasp the concept, let alone put it into words. I’m not sure it’s fair to expect the kids to get it. Our girls have lost a couple great-grandmothers in their lifetimes, although neither woman was someone they saw on a regular basis. They all pay attention now when they hear on the news that some celebrity has died.
I’ve stated my case, many times, for 1984 being one of the best pop culture years ever. Over the weekend, there was another effort at laying down ’84’s case. I’m sure this crossed your Twitter/Facebook/Blogosphere streams, but I couldn’t let it go without sharing again. Thirty years ago last weekend, here’s what you could see at a movie theater: Ghostbusters Gremlins Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom The Karate Kid Star Trek III: The Search For Spock Top Secret!
That title is how I think L., the most hip-hop of my girls, might describe the past week’s worth of sports for me. There have been a few bummers. Let’s break it down, in reverse order. I’ve watched five minutes of the World Cup.1 Those five minutes were the last five minutes of the US - Portugal game. We were at my in-laws’ house, I was following the game on my phone, and saw the US had gone up 2-1 late.
interminable |inˈtərmənəbəl| adjective endless (often used hyperbolically): we got bogged down in interminable discussions. The girls have begun their competitive swimming careers. Their first meet was last Thursday, they swam again Tuesday night, and we have another meet scheduled for tonight. (Edit: Well, we were supposed to swim tonight. But just before warm ups were set to begin a huge line of storms rolled in and the meet was cancelled. It’s been three hours since they pulled the plug and it’s still pouring and lightning.
What a week. Late last week, former MLB pitcher Bob Welch died. He wasn’t an icon of his era, nor one of my heroes. But for kids who grew up watching baseball in the late 70s through the 80s, his passing was noted. Then Casey Kasem. And just as I was posting my thoughts about Casey on Monday came word that San Diego Padres legend Tony Gwynn had died. Such a terrible run of days for our generation.
We knew this was coming, based on recent, terrible, news reports. But it still hurts. Casey Kasem, 1932-2014. It is not hyperbole to say no pop culture figure influenced my life more than Casey. I began listening to “American Top 40” way back in its earliest days. My parents listened to “AT40”. Their friends listened to “AT40”. My uncles listened to “AT40”.1 My grandmother listened to “AT40.” Some of my earliest radio memories are of Casey’s voice in the background during car trips or just lazy weekend days when I was playing outside and my parents were lounging or doing yard work with the radio on.
I’m not the soccer fan I once was. That’s not because I like soccer any less, but rather because I just have a harder time squeezing it into my schedule. Which is kind of a shame because this is the glory age for American soccer fans. When I first began following European soccer after the 1994 World Cup, viewing options were extremely limited. ESPN would show a few Champions League games each year, sometimes just the final.
It’s funny how things always come back on the Internet. I guess it’s a function of there being thousands of websites seeking page views that makes every trend, fad, or other pop culture moment/icon get a second or third look. For example, I’ve read three long article in recent weeks about Don Johnson, who is apparently a thing again. If you were a fan of him in his Miami Vice days, I suggest hunting down some of the articles.
Our first full week of summer kicked off today. I was looking at the calendar last night and it sunk in how short summers are for kids these days. I remember getting out of school the week of Memorial Day most years and not going back until the day after Labor Day. A full three months to waste in swimming pools, on dusty Little League fields, in the backs on un-air conditioned cars, and watching bad reruns on TV.
Three quick hours this morning, apparently to satisfy the state of Indiana, and now M. and C. are finally done with school.1 It’s been a long few days, as the district we live in wrapped up their school year last Thursday. So while the neighbors have been swimming and going to parks, we’ve still been on a normal school schedule. Not anymore, though. As with the stomach bug hitting the house over Memorial Day, I hope the weather today isn’t an omen for the rest of the summer.
34-Ton Bat - Steve Rushin Here we have a book that is perfect for summer and browsing through while a baseball game buzzes in the background. Rushin tells a story of the history of baseball not through on the field actions, but rather through all the ephemera that is attached to the game. The development of uniforms, where nachos came from, how the modern bat industry came about, the man who kicked off the game day giveaway craze (and in the process made the Dodgers a Southern California institution), and on and on.
When we jumped into this owning a pleasure craft thing, we knew there would be a significant learning curve involved. Neither of us had spent more than a few seconds steering a powered craft on water. Neither of us is mechanically minded, meaning we can’t quickly diagnose and then fix problems. Then there’s the matter of educating ourselves while making sure everyone on board stays safe. Kind of takes the pleasure out of pleasure craft if you dwell on it.
As a young lad, my summers were split into two, roughly even, segments. The first half consisted of baseball and day camp at the YMCA. Once baseball season ended, usually in mid-July, my mom would ship me off to spend a month or so with my grandparents in central Kansas. Her parents were farmers. They could pick up three TV stations (on a good day). Their home was small and few items from my uncles’ childhoods remained.
How did your summer 2014 start off? Ours had highs and lows. Breakdown? You betcha! I’m hoping the way our weekend began was not an omen for the rest of the summer. L. and M. both woke up with stomach aches Friday. It was L.’s last day of school, with her big bike parade on the agenda, so I did not want to be stuck at home with one or two sick kids.
There are many good aspects to being in your 40s. In a lot of other ways, though, it bites the big one. I could write for pages and pages about the downsides to being 40+. Rather than bore you with stories about how my back always hurts, my crappy eyesight, my deteriorating hearing, etc. I thought I would share this less personal observation. I’m beginning to question how I dress. Only mildly, mind you.
I was back on the diamonds last night, watching a game in the county baseball tournament. It was your average 21-0, 5 inning blowout. WHS scored four runs on four hits, two walks, and three wild pitches in the first. Then they went down 1-2-3 in the second. I went from thinking it would be a blowout to wondering if EHS could keep it close. They couldn’t. Ten runs in the third, seven in the fourth, game over in a tidy 90 minutes.
A quick administrative note. It’s a very busy week here. As I’ve mentioned, this is L.’s final week of pre-school. Thus, I’m trying to cram a bunch of projects into my final (now) 14 or so hours without a kid to get in the way.1 As you would expect, we have a busy holiday weekend on the horizon. And I’m getting out and working for the first time since basketball ended Tuesday night.