For Love of the Game: Cooperstown Through the Eyes of a Fan

It’s been a while since this former journalism major sat at the keyboard and started to write. A lifetime, and a career change has put some real time on the calendar. But the urging of a good friend, aware of my background in sports and journalism, and the events of a special weekend have spurred the urge, and so here we go.

The man behind the Kiner’s Korner website, Mark Rosenman, is one of my best friends. Even though I am a huge Yankee fan, I am first and foremost a VERY passionate baseball fan. Mark asked me to be an extra observer, photographer, and writer, for the Induction weekend at Cooperstown, providing another set of eyes for the events that would unfold. I have been there numerous times over the years, but never for the special weekend when this tiny town becomes the Mecca of the baseball world. I was thrilled to be included.

As a writer you are not supposed to “fan boy” when you meet the players. But since I have not considered myself a “real writer” anymore, it was hard to contain my excitement as I stood roughly two feet from some of the legends of the game, over and over. Age is not a factor, as this senior citizen mentally reverted to the 10 year-old boy obsessed with Topps trading cards, who sat by the phone for an hour dialing and re-dialing to see if my little league game was rained out. I hope that feeling never leaves me.

I have chosen not to give a blow by blow recap of my magical weekend, but have elected to key on a few special moments that stood out to me, each stirring up unexpected feelings and memories.

I start with Big Papi. I have to restate here my orange and blue hearted readers that I am a die-hard Yankee fan. My dad was, and I followed in his footsteps. I despised Big Papi for twenty years. The pain of 2004 has faded, but has never fully gone away. But my feelings about the best DH ever have shifted a moment at a time. I think the first change was the Boston Marathon bombing in 2013. When the big lefty stood before the Fenway faithful and poured his heart out to his city. It may have been profane, but as a New Yorker who watched the Twin Towers fall, I felt the passion and truth behind what he was saying. I grudgingly admired it.

Next watching his warmth and bigger than life personality as he began his broadcasting career, it brought a smile to my face each time I heard him breaking down a game, rooting for, and teasing current players. BUT- this weekend sealed the deal. At the parade held on Cooperstown’s Main Street, and at the Induction ceremony, it was Big Papi who constantly, and so caringly went to the aid of the Hall of Famers who were having trouble getting around. As others walked right by, it was David Ortiz who was supporting Rod Carew and Tony Oliva, just as he had supported his teammates throughout his amazing career. He was not just showing consideration, but you could actually feel the total respect he was showing to the greats who came before him. That is something needed in the game, and the world, more than ever today.

Next I’ll mention the two twin boys Mark wrote an article about. Fifth graders conducting interviews of baseball players in the major and minor leagues. They reminded me of myself so much at that age. Their mom mentioned that she had to stop them from reading baseball books all the time. The 40 year teacher in me told her not to do that. I said she should never stop them from reading. I recall reading EVERY book about sports in my school libraries through high school. Mark, and fellow Kiner’s contributor, Arnie Carter, , interviewed the twins, and when they were done, they were surprised when I started grilling them with questions about the Yankees. (Yes, the Twins are also Bomber fans). I just wanted to know if they were “legit”. When they told me when, where and how Thurman Munson died, and knew who Tommy Henrich and Charlie Keller were, my faith in the youth of America was redeemed. The future of the game is in good hands.

Lastly, there is the love. This whole amazing weekend was about love. The love each player expressed for the game, their families, their teammates, and all the people who helped them get to Mount Olympus. One shining example of this was when Rollie Fingers watched as his daughter Shaylin sang the National Anthem before the Induction ceremony. The pride reflected on his face was something any dad could relate to.

There is the love of the fans, who pour into this beautiful little town to show their cardboard heroes how they feel about them. You could feel the pride of Puerto Rico and Curacao as their native sons received their laurels.

The love of teammates- which was apparent watching the large group of Braves sitting together and sharing a laugh. Watching Derek Jeter sitting next to and looking out for the ailing Tim Raines. Seeing Papi and Pedro hug and smile.

There is the love of family. So many players had their families there to support them- wives clenching hands, and children staring at them adoringly. The legion of fans- fathers and sons wearing matching jerseys, marching to the hall. The moms clutching babies with baseball onesies. Tradition passed on from generation to generation. So many memories flooding back into my sometimes foggy brain- scoring games while watching them with my dad in the family room, going to my first Games at Shea and Yankee Stadium, emulating the stances and motions of Roy White, Tom Seaver, and so many others.

That is what this weekend was truly about, connecting to people and the game that we all share a love for. Thanks to the staff of Kinerskorner.com for letting me be a part of it.