My love of baseball began very early. Summer in my neighborhood meant playing the game all day long. We road our bikes to the schoolyard, picked teams and played. My first clear memory is the Mantle Maris chase for 60 home runs in 1961. Although we lived in Indiana, this was all everyone was talking about. Baseball cards were just for kids back then and we all collected and traded. My father also loved the game and we always attended several games each summer in Chicago, St Louis, Cincinnati or Detroit. I was allowed to pick one souvenir from the vendors outside the stadium. In many ways, maybe I am now buying the souvenirs I was forced to pass on all those many years ago. I like to think I am preserving history by collecting, but as the quote below says, I am also hanging on to a bit of my childhood.
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Baseball's appeal isn't complicated or confusing. It's about the beauty of the game; it's about heroes and family and friends; it's about being part of something larger than yourself, about tradition---receiving it and passing it; and it's about holding on to a bit of your childhood.
Tom Stanton from The Road to Cooperstown
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