Growing up, I was fascinated by baseball. I would listen intently to my father, on those lazy summer afternoons gone by, telling stories about baseball players he loved to watch when he was a kid. His stories were vivid and I could almost imagine seeing Richie Allen hitting a homerun or the blaze of a Robin Roberts fastball.
My Dad was, and still is, a fan of the Philadelphia Phillies and his favorite player was Richie Ashburn. My Dad has stayed true to his team through the ups and the many downs of that beleaguered franchise. He remembers seeing the old Shibe Park, sitting in the bleachers at Connie Mack Stadium and the first year of the Vet.
I saw my own very first Big League Game in 1978 as I watched the Phillies beat up on the Chicago Cubs. I have inherited my Dad’s love for the game but, as things often turn out, I am more than disappointed by today’s baseball players.
Those who played during my Dad’s youth were blue collar men who held jobs in the off season to make ends meet. There were no limos, no chauffeurs, no fine dining. Ballplayers ate at the hot dog stand at the corner and drank at the bar down the street. Ballplayers were househ
old names and more often than not they played their entire career with the same team.
Today’s ballplayers, however, make me sick with their million dollar salaries and overblown personalities. Free agency has destroyed the team concept of baseball. There is too much focus on personal stats than there is on winning as a team.
My Dad was, and still is, a fan of the Philadelphia Phillies and his favorite player was Richie Ashburn. My Dad has stayed true to his team through the ups and the many downs of that beleaguered franchise. He remembers seeing the old Shibe Park, sitting in the bleachers at Connie Mack Stadium and the first year of the Vet.
I saw my own very first Big League Game in 1978 as I watched the Phillies beat up on the Chicago Cubs. I have inherited my Dad’s love for the game but, as things often turn out, I am more than disappointed by today’s baseball players.
Those who played during my Dad’s youth were blue collar men who held jobs in the off season to make ends meet. There were no limos, no chauffeurs, no fine dining. Ballplayers ate at the hot dog stand at the corner and drank at the bar down the street. Ballplayers were househ
old names and more often than not they played their entire career with the same team.Today’s ballplayers, however, make me sick with their million dollar salaries and overblown personalities. Free agency has destroyed the team concept of baseball. There is too much focus on personal stats than there is on winning as a team.
So, I am looking at the paper and am sighing in disbelief and disgust to read about Roger Clemens ‘comeback’ and Barry Bonds pursuit of Hank Aaron’s homerun record. If it weren’t for the salaries which are greater than the GNP of most third world nations, the self-centeredness and now, the use of narcotics and steroids, I might be interested in these two headlines but unfortunately, I am not.
I yearn for the ‘old’ days of baseball when the players were more personable and you knew everyone on the team. When players played because they love the game; not so they can get endorsements.
As Simon & Garfunkel once sang, “Where have you gone Joe DiMaggio?”
I yearn for the ‘old’ days of baseball when the players were more personable and you knew everyone on the team. When players played because they love the game; not so they can get endorsements.
As Simon & Garfunkel once sang, “Where have you gone Joe DiMaggio?”
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