Everyone is there, except my husband. My first husband is in Okinawa and I am happy at 20 that he is not in Vietnam. I am living with my in-laws, kind people with a comfortable home and room for both myself and the baby. It is 1967 and I too would soon be in Okinawa. But for now I had found the Saint Louis Cardinals and pretty much had fallen in love. I never missed a game. I could rattle off every stat. Even today, I prefer a baseball game on the radio to TV.
I listened to the All-Star game last night. The lead up was grand and all the emotional stops were pulled out for me, there were many tears. The razzamatazz was wonderful and took me back in time. I went back to my very young adulthood and the love of the game. Then I went back to my childhood. We had left Scarsdale, NY and moved to Vermont. We had to be quiet as it was The World Series and Mummy and Pup seemed to live for The World Series. God, how I love that sound. Of course the Dodgers and the Yankees were playing. The Dodgers had not yet moved to LA. I don’t think it was 54, the Yankees lost the series that year, no, it must have been 55 or 6. It is so hard to remember. We were in the back of the house. Pup was removing the paint from the house. Everyone was working and the radio was jerry-rigged to the electricity coming into the house up in the righthand corner of the terrace under the eves. Mummy and Pup were rivals when it came to the Yankees and the Dodgers. It kind of ended for my father when the Dodgers moved to LA. He was broken hearted. I can still sense his great loss. It was very few years after WWII. I know that his grieving over the loss of the Dodgers was his way of expressing grieving for loss experienced duing the war. I am just sensing this real loss as I write.
summer evening crack of the bat – roar of the crowd
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