No. 9, Time for Baseball & Beatles

The day for celebrating MLB and the Beatles has arrived; today is 9/9/9. It is a wonderful day. Baseball has always been my favorite sport and I have always loved the Beatles. It is difficult for me to write this article because I really could talk for hours on both subjects. I will therefore limit my conversation to my most memorable experiences.

Baseball has always been a passion of mine. I grew to love the sport as a child. My father and uncle use to take me to see the Boston Red Sox as a child. We lived in Connecticut but they were our favorite team. I loved the peanuts at the park, they were better somehow. In fact, when I wasn’t able to go my uncle made sure to always bring me a bag home from the game. My favorite player was Carl Yastrzemski. I was only seven at the time when in 1967, he led the Sox, yes to me they are the one and only Sox, to winning the American League pennant for the first time in two decades. That year he was voted the American League MVP. It is hard for me to believe even after all of this time he was the last player to win the batting Triple Crown. I was excited in 1989 when he was voted into the Hall of Fame, an honor he definitely deserves.

We moved to Georgia when I was eleven and though the Atlanta Braves were struggling back then I shortly became a fan. I can remember Chief Knockahoma dancing up high in Atlanta Fulton County Stadium cheering them on. During those days we were lucky to have the bat of Hammerin’ Hank Aaron to keep our spirits high. We always sat on the lower level on the first base side between the base and the foul pole. Still to this day it is my favorite place to sit except for the one time I got to sit right behind home plate but that is another story.

I remember in 1973 thinking Aaron was going to break Babe Ruth’s record only to be disappointed and having to wait another year. And then came April 1974, opening day in Atlanta. History recounts it as a cold night but all I can remember is the excitement. He walked on his first at bat to my dismay. I was anxious for him to break the record. Then in the fourth inning, as Downing threw his fastball Hammerin’ Hank cracked his bat for homerun 715 breaking the long time standing record. I can remember the crowd going wild and fans running out on to the field to run the bases with their hero. It was such a glorious moment for us all. It still brings a tear to my eye as I sit and write about this account. Little did we know at the time that he had also broken May’s National League record of 2062 career runs; we were too wrapped up in the moment and it wasn’t until the sportscaster announced it on the radio that we became aware of that milestone. Hank Aaron will always remain one of my heroes. He brought me many hours of joy in my childhood. I have included a video honoring Hammerin’ Hank and that day below.

As for the Beatles, I am still to this day a huge fan. I remember the day when John Lennon was shot. I can remember the time He and Yoko spent in bed to demonstrate for peace. I can remember the rumors of Paul being dead and playing Revolution No. 9 backwards to hear those words. So many signs were rumored about his death from his bare feet on Abbey Road to the rumors of the lookalike contest where Billy Spears took his place. They were a great group that offered a wide variety of music. Honestly, as I said above I could talk for hours about this subject but instead I will leave you with a couple of videos for your enjoyment. Be sure to record and play Revolution No. 9 backwards to hear that Paul is dead.

You can read MLB’s article, Baseball revolves around the number nine, for more information about baseball and the number nine by clicking on the title. The Beatles reference to the number nine is entirely from the mystique surrounding the song Revolution No. 9 and the rumors of Paul McCartney’s death.

Have a wonderful day celebrating the day of the number nine! Number 9, Number 9, Number 9, Number 9, Number 9, …

All we are saying is give peace a chance. ~ John Lennon

Bottles, Goodies and Adventure

When I was a mere child around the third or fourth grade I remember collecting bottles and bringing them down to local corner store and cashing them in for those hard earned pennies. It was a time when glass bottles were widely in use. Drinks taste so much better in glass bottles. Do you remember? Soda machines use to have bottle openers on them.

We would carry those bottles in our little arms down the hill and walk about eight blocks to get our reward. Of course, when we had our hands full of change we would calculate how much candy we could afford. We would buy those little five packs of plastic bottles of sugar water, caramel chews, Bazooka Bubblegum, baseball cards, candy cigarettes, penny candy (yes, candy use to cost a penny) and a Milky Way all for about .35 - .50 cents. If we were lucky we would be able to afford a chocolate éclair ice cream and a grape soda. The clerk would put all of our treasures in a small paper sack and we were on our way.

We use to go behind the store and sit and devour our ice cream and compare our riches. We would compare and trade our baseball cards and chew the awful gum that came with them. We would complain about how the taste didn’t last and grab something else out of our sacks. Then it was time to start heading home where we would not get into trouble for being gone for so long.

Along the way back we would kick rocks on the street and take the time to stop and investigate the ant hills that had taken over the empty lot. We bombed the ants with rocks and sticks to start their panic and frustration of our presence. Once bored we continued toward our home just to stop and play in the creek at the bottom of the hill. We would play with the tadpoles and pollywogs and find a container to put them in so we could tease, poke, and play with them. As we admired our catch we sat on the rocks and ate the rest of our candy.

As the street lights began to come on we realized that once again we had spent too long on our journey. We snatched up the remainder of our loot and released the tadpoles and pollywogs. As dusk began to fall I could hear my grandmother calling out my name. As I am walking up the hill my aunt from three houses down yells to my grandmother, “Here he comes, he should be home in a minute.” “Thanks, Elaine. Make sure he comes straight home,” my grandmother replied.

I walk in the front door only to be stopped in my tracks and told to get out of those filthy clothes. I can smell dinner cooking and it makes my mouth water. I strip in the foyer and I am told to run and get in the tub before dinner is ready. While in the tub I hear my parents come home from work. My mother comes and gets me out of the tub and dries me off. We all sit down at the table, say the blessing and enjoy our meal.

It has been another great day of adventure and I am blessed to have such a wonderful family. My grandmother and my aunt have since passed away. I treasure those memories of them and thank God for giving me such a wonderful childhood and family. God Bless them always.

This story reminds me of a song I began enjoying in my teens. I still like to sing to it today. Here is the song, The Ballad of Curtis Lowe by Lynyrd Skynyd.