...I didn't sneak into my father's closet to try to steal peeks at his "men's magazines". This was for two reasons. One, Dad didn't have any. Two, I was after something else.
Specifically, I was gunning my folks' ancient, tattered, and well-loved Brooklyn Dodgers yearbooks. They're what really taught me to love baseball - George "Shotgun" Shuba, a picture of Junior Gilliam with a two-handled bat, the glowering presence of Don Newcombe. I was the only kid in my grade who knew who the heck Roy C...
Published on October 16, 2009 04:26