From the author: 2001 Induction at Cooperstown; the adventure of youth
Tuesday night before I left for Cooperstown for the annual Hall of Fame Induction Weekend, a rap came to my front door. Behind it, two young boys who couldn’t have been more than 10 years old.
“Mr., we were playing baseball in the street and we hit the ball into your back yard,” one of them spoke up. “Can we get it?”
This was a line I was not unaccustomed to. Perhaps however what struck me most is that this was the very first time in my life, I was on the receiving end of the lost ball question. As I motioned to the boys to pass through the house on their way to the back yard I felt a bit of freshness in the air. Maybe, after all we’ve been hearing in the hobby, baseball is still alive in the hearts of the young.
Two days later I was winging my way from California to Albany, the jumping off point in upstate New York for the Mecca known to baseball fans over the world, as Cooperstown. No name, no city, no place has such a definity to it for the fan of the game than Cooperstown. It...