baseball. Go Cardinals. For decades I had little interest in the
game, but now I find myself returning more and more to my first sports
love.
Much of this renewed interest is due to Albert Pujols. I can't
remember anyone dominating the first half of a season like he has thus
far this year.
When I was a boy living at 1040 S. Sprigg in Cape Girardeau during the
early 1960s, I would play baseball for hours. Alone. I would hit
monster home runs, watch the invisible ball fly hundreds of feet, hear
the silent deafening roar of the crowd, and then slowly circle the
bases in my back yard as the applause thundered.
Micky Mantle and Willy Mays, my heroes, hit over 500 home runs
apiece. I did too. All of them in my backyard.
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