I Am An Old-fashioned Storyteller. I Try

It Is The Same Game That Moonlight Graham Played In 1905. It Is A Living Part Of History, Like Calico Dresses, Stone Crockery, And Threshing Crews Eating At Outdoor Tables. It Continually Reminds Us Of What Was, Like An Indian-head Penny In A Handful Of New Coins.

At One Time I'd Been To Every Park Except Baltimore And Houston, But Can't Even Keep Track Of Who Plays Where These Days.

1946, If My Memory Is Correct. Harry "the Cat" Brecheen Went Against The Red Sox In Game 7. I Stayed Home To Listen, Practically Had My Head Inside The Radio.

The Great Gatsby, The Finest Novel Ever Written.

Baseball Is The Most Perfect Of Games, Solid, True, Pure And Precious As Diamonds. If Only Life Were So Simple. Within The Baselines Anything Can Happen. Tides Can Reverse; Oceans Can Open. That's Why They Say, "the Game Is Never Over Until The Last Man Is Out." Colors Can Change, Lives Can Alter, Anything Is Possible In This Gentle, Flawless, Loving Game.