OT: GREAT REACTION

[anacreon3]

... from a kid at the Dodger game:

 

[fairgambit]

... from a kid at the Dodger game:

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There is still magic in the game.

 

[anacreon3]

There is still magic in the game.

Now I wish I had titled this thread... "Still Magic in the Game"

 

[artsandletters]

There is still magic in the game.

On this beautiful, fine Sunday morning I was reflecting on how I used to beg my dad relentlessly to take me to Connie Mack. I would start on him after mass. We went plenty of times but I always wanted to go, especially if there was a double header.

One time dad took me and my buddy Joe to a Cards double header. Joe and I were 11 or 12. Our seats were in the left field stands. I recall getting mad at the Cards center fielder Curt Flood. Curt was known for playing a deep center field and we couldn't see him make plays from our left field vantage point.

Between games my dad went to use the men's room. After a bit, Joe and I decided to take a look around up on the concourse. Instead of sqeezing by people in our row, we decided to jump up from arm rests to arm rests to the last row. We were both very athletic so no big deal. We got to the top row and I jumped over the seat back, hit my head on a girder, and knocked myself out. I came to in the infirmary with my dad and Joe next to the gurney, staring at me. Joe was smiling, about to laugh now that I was okay.

Of course, whenever I tell the story, I make it a point to emphasize my outstanding leaping ability.

I loved those days at Connie Mack, seeing my baseball cards come to life. I was a lucky boy.

 

[fairgambit]

Just this Sunday morning I was reflecting on how I used to beg my dad relentlessly to take me to Connie Mack. I would start on him after mass. We went plenty of times but I always wanted to go, especially if there was a double header.

One time dad took me and my buddy Joe to a Cards double header. Joe and I were 11 or 12. Our seats were in the left field stands. I recall getting mad at the Cards center fielder Curt Flood. Curt was known for playing a deep center field and we couldn't see him make plays from our left field vantage point.

Between games my dad went to use the men's room. After a bit, Joe and I decided to take a look around up on the concourse. Instead of sqeezing by people in our row, we decided to jump up from arm rests to arm rests to the last row. We were both very athletic so no big deal. We got to the top row and I jumped over the seat back, hit my head on a girder, and knocked myself out. I came to in the infirmary with my dad and Joe next to the gurney, staring at me. Joe was smiling, about to laugh now that I was okay.

Of course, whenever I tell the story, I make it a point to emphasize my outstanding leaping ability.

I loved those days at Connie Mack, seeing my baseball cards come to life. I was a lucky boy.

Good story and I like the phrase "seeing my baseball cards come to life". I spent many a happy day at Forbes Field in my youth. By the time the Pirates moved to Three Rivers Stadium I was no longer a kid and, while I still loved the game, I was no longer awed by it. It warms my heart to know kids, like the one in this thread, still feel the joy we did all those years ago.

 

[step.eng69]

I loved those days at Connie Mack, seeing my baseball cards come to life. I was a lucky boy.

Nice

 

[artsandletters]

Good story and I like the phrase "seeing my baseball cards come to life". I spent many a happy day at Forbes Field in my youth. By the time the Pirates moved to Three Rivers Stadium I was no longer a kid and, while I still loved the game, I was no longer awed by it. It warms my heart to know kids, like the one in this thread, still feel the joy we did all those years ago.

I remember and saw your Pirates. Awhile back I listed the 1960 starting lineup for you. I also liked the sleeveless shirts that the Pirates and the Reds wore (A's later on). I liked all the NL teams because they were all represented in my cards. I couldn't wait to see each of them. The Giants were a particular favorite because of Mays, plus they were loaded with hitters back then.

 

[LionJim]

Just this beautiful, fine Sunday morning I was reflecting on how I used to beg my dad relentlessly to take me to Connie Mack. I would start on him after mass. We went plenty of times but I always wanted to go, especially if there was a double header.

One time dad took me and my buddy Joe to a Cards double header. Joe and I were 11 or 12. Our seats were in the left field stands. I recall getting mad at the Cards center fielder Curt Flood. Curt was known for playing a deep center field and we couldn't see him make plays from our left field vantage point.

Between games my dad went to use the men's room. After a bit, Joe and I decided to take a look around up on the concourse. Instead of sqeezing by people in our row, we decided to jump up from arm rests to arm rests to the last row. We were both very athletic so no big deal. We got to the top row and I jumped over the seat back, hit my head on a girder, and knocked myself out. I came to in the infirmary with my dad and Joe next to the gurney, staring at me. Joe was smiling, about to laugh now that I was okay.

Of course, whenever I tell the story, I make it a point to emphasize my outstanding leaping ability.

I loved those days at Connie Mack, seeing my baseball cards come to life. I was a lucky boy.

Yeah, the girders.

The left field bleachers were my regular seats when my dad would take me to the games. What happened in that OP video once happened to me at the wall, with Alex Johnson.

Oh, a nice coda to my trip to Philadelphia: when I was growing up my mom and dad would take us five kids to the Philadelphia Museum of Art on its free days. We spent many happy hours there and as I walked through the museum last week I thought of how much my parents loved the old place and of the joy they found there. Anyway, we're staying at the Bellevue and when I set the GPS to get back on 95S it gave us different directions than what we had coming in. Going out, it had us taking the South Street Bridge with its views of Franklin Field and the Palestra, where my dad and I saw many, many games. That made for very nice memories for the drive home.

 

[anacreon3]

Just this beautiful, fine Sunday morning I was reflecting on how I used to beg my dad relentlessly to take me to Connie Mack. I would start on him after mass. We went plenty of times but I always wanted to go, especially if there was a double header.

One time dad took me and my buddy Joe to a Cards double header. Joe and I were 11 or 12. Our seats were in the left field stands. I recall getting mad at the Cards center fielder Curt Flood. Curt was known for playing a deep center field and we couldn't see him make plays from our left field vantage point.

Between games my dad went to use the men's room. After a bit, Joe and I decided to take a look around up on the concourse. Instead of sqeezing by people in our row, we decided to jump up from arm rests to arm rests to the last row. We were both very athletic so no big deal. We got to the top row and I jumped over the seat back, hit my head on a girder, and knocked myself out. I came to in the infirmary with my dad and Joe next to the gurney, staring at me. Joe was smiling, about to laugh now that I was okay.

Of course, whenever I tell the story, I make it a point to emphasize my outstanding leaping ability.

I loved those days at Connie Mack, seeing my baseball cards come to life. I was a lucky boy.

I loved those experiences too, except when I was a kid it was still called Shibe Park.

 

[artsandletters]

Yeah, the girders.

The left field bleachers were my regular seats when my dad would I would take me to the games. What happened in that OP video once happened to me at the wall, with Alex Johnson.

Oh, a nice coda to my trip to Philadelphia: when I was growing up my mom and dad would take us five kids to the Philadelphia Museum of Art on its free days. We spent many happy hours there and as I walked through the museum last week I thought of how much my parents loved the old place and of the joy they found there. Anyway, we're staying at the Bellevue and when I set the GPS to get back on 95S it gave us different directions than what we had coming in. Going out, it had us taking the South Street Bridge with its views of Franklin Field and the Palestra, where my dad and I saw many, many games. That made for very nice memories for the drive home.

It's either the Walnut St. or the South St. entrance onto 676 that takes you into the passing lane. Close your eyes and hope for the best. I always forgot which one it was and I'd find myself going down to the highway thinking, you stupid ass, death is on your doorstep.

 

[Victor E. Bell]

Good story and I like the phrase "seeing my baseball cards come to life". I spent many a happy day at Forbes Field in my youth. By the time the Pirates moved to Three Rivers Stadium I was no longer a kid and, while I still loved the game, I was no longer awed by it. It warms my heart to know kids, like the one in this thread, still feel the joy we did all those years ago.

This weekend was "National Baseball Card Day" either yesterday or today, I don't know. In any event all fans got a pack of cards at CBP today. All old Phillies. They're pretty nice. Decent giveaway. Other clubs probably did the same this weekend.