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Upside of R&R Home

The Wonder Years


   It seemed that summers were filled with it, baseball, baseball and more baseball. At this early age, my aim was weak. When I was about 5, I threw a ball right through our garage window and shattered it. This was when we lived at 229 El Vista Avenue. Dad loved that one. This was about the same period when I tried to hit softballs that were pitched underhanded to me. One day, a wooden croquet ball was slipped in as a joke, and I hit it on the end of the bat. Jarred my preserves, to say the least. Not funny. I tell all this to impress on you that I still carry these memories with me. Clearly, those years will always be with me. Even stinky, rubber spike baseball shoes were cool, not to mention the glove and the traditional bonding that happens when one rubs "the mitt" down with a special oil or saddle soap, meant to keep the leather soft and flexible. I loved that smell.


circa 1953 - Home plate at Beard Brook Park, with me (far left in shorts) looking on in absolute awe and wonderment at the "big" Little Leaguers. Below: Here's a picture taken about 29 years later, in 1982. It's my son Jesse, at age 3, at the same park and same home plate.


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