Was thinking back to my seventh birthday. My parents took me to my first baseball game. Mets vs. Phillies at Shea Stadium. The greenness of the grass. The vastness of the field. So damn beautiful. The great Tom Seaver pitched. We sat on the left field line. Before the game, I got backup cather Duffy Dyer's autograph. I saw Rick Wise, the opposing pitcher. I saw Art Shamsky make a catch close to us. It was also utility player Bob Aspromonte's birthday. How cool was that, Sharing a birthday with a baseball player! He pinch hit, did not get on base. Then, I do not remember who hit it, but a line drive came toward us and it was hit hard. The man in front of me stuck up his hand and and the ball slammed into it with a sizzle that I can still hear to this day. It was the closest I came to a foul ball until twenty nine years later when my ex caught one at Cleveland Stadium in her Betty Boop tote bag.
Here's the box score!
That's me, at either age seven or eight. My brother is behind me, over my right shoulder. I wonder what memories my son will have of his seventh birthday, and how he we be able to communicate them when he turns forty five?
Had a staff lunch on campus today. I was goofing off with the camera by RPAC. There was a interesting reflection.
A picture of me that does not suck.
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