Member-only story
Seeing my baseball dreams come true
As a kid, I always wanted to play third base for the Cleveland Indians. Bubba Phillips was my hero.
I know. I could have picked a more respectable team like the dreaded New York Yankees. But I was born in a blue-collar steel town in northeast Ohio. Cheering for any other team was tantamount to treason.
I began playing baseball at age seven. Right away, I had a strong inclination that I wasn’t Major League Baseball material. A one-hopper hit me square in the mouth, loosening a few front teeth.
Still, I kept at it until my college days when I watched the Kent State University baseball team. A couple of years later, the team’s catcher, the late, great Thurman Munson, and fellow Cantonian, would become an all-star backstop for the Yankees.
Thurman lived my dream, just in a different position, although I also spent most of my Little League and Hot Stove baseball days behind the plate. I never took one in the mouth, though. Wearing a catcher’s mask helped with that.
Imagine my joy when our oldest grandchild took to baseball like a duck to water. He was a natural from little on up. Now he’s 15, a high school freshman, and pitching for the varsity baseball team. Did I mention that he also plays third base and shortstop?
