As the baseball season winds down, and I am attending the last of my games, I was fortunate enough to witness one of the many reasons I enjoy baseball. While on the Pace Round Tripper on my way home, I sat across three generations of baseball fans. A Grandfather, his son and two grandsons who were about 14 and eight years old. He was telling them about some of the unfortunate history of the Chicago Cubs as well as some of the past moments and players in baseball history.
The grandfather told a story of Ted Williams, who was the greatest hitter he saw growing up. He mentioned that he missed four years due to serving in the military, that he hit .400 and told a story that I had never heard of. As Williams stood at home plate one day he looked down at first base and noticed that something was off. the angle to first base was slightly off. He was told that hew was wrong, but upon measuring the angle of first base, he was proven right. First base was off by a mere two inches.
That is what I love about the game of baseball. Sure, other sports have their uniqueness as well, but in my mind some of the greatest stories come out of baseball. Sitting there across this family made me smile. The eight year old’s eyes were bright and shinning as he looked at his grandfather in constant awe as he heard some stories.
He brought up the sad fact of game six, talked about Bill Buckner‘s costly play, mentioned Babe Ruth. Seeing the Grandfather share his love of the game, and past memories of the game with someone who has a pure canvas was awesome. Something I am glad I got to witness.
That’s baseball. The American Past Time. Something to pass on from one generation to the next. I look forward to the day when I am able to do this with my children one day.