October 23, 2011

GENETIC CODE (via Matt Murphy)

Baseball, St. Louis go hand in hand (DAN O'NEILL, 10/19/11, post-dispatch.com)

Times like these bring me closer to my father, as they do for so many St. Louisans. Baseball here has a connection like that, perhaps not in an exclusive sense but certainly in a nourishing way.

St. Louis is a family town and baseball, more than any of its sports relatives, is a family experience.

Baseball had a unique vitality in my boyhood home. It was ever-present, in stacks of newspapers and publications, paperbacks and Baseball Digests. It was chronicled in thick scrapbooks, filled by neatly trimmed articles and black and white photos, corresponded with personal letters from former participants and writers like Fred Lieb and Dick Young.

Baseball came to life through a Zenith radio and a tall glass of Pepsi. It occupied one corner of the living room to itself, furnished with a small table, a porcelain lamp and a reclining leather chair, accessorized with Elmer's glue, paper clips and scissors.

It sometimes sounded like Radio Free Europe, choked by extreme distances and primitive technology, penetrating the environment with waves of static interference and fragments of play-by-play. It arrived late at night, from New York, Cincinnati or Pittsburgh. It was Morse code only he could decipher, and he would do so, sitting in the chair, sipping the Pepsi, keeping a scorecard.

Posted by at October 23, 2011 4:00 PM
  

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