My silent vow before I started this blog -- that I would post only about baseball --went out the window the moment I babbled about A&G on here (Joey Chestnut? Talk about lowering my standards). So, what the hell. Might as well go all the way. I'm missing my daughter right now because she left this afternoon on a four-hour trip to visit her grandmother, who is celebrating her 80th birthday. (Why didn't I go? And miss all the fun at work? What a silly question). The news here reminded me of the overwhelming thrill I had when I held my daughter for the first time. And she's done nothing to disappoint me since. She's smart, funny and as goofy as they come. But when it comes to baseball, she and I are nothing like this . Every baseball-loving dad would like his daughter to like baseball, too. But it hasn't worked out that way, so far. When she was about 3 years old and saw me sorting cards, she asked if she could have some. I gave her about 50 dupes and she played ...
Up all hours talking baseball, cardboard & collecting