Why Collect Ballparks?
“The one constant through all the years, Ray, has been baseball.” As I said in my previous post, I plan to take a break and consider a new existence. However, since this break can entail almost anything, why should I devote my energy to collecting ballparks? Most people would likely find it excessive to focus an entire year on baseball. Excessive even if I raise money for youth baseball and softball. There are a lot of places to go, things to see, and experiences to have. Do I need to devote my time and money to baseball? Baseball has been a constant source of joy in my life. Consequently, this trip has become one of my dreams. Is it that the game reminds me "of all that once was good and could be again?" Will the trip make me feel young again? What is it about baseball that compels me to make this trip? I don't have answers that I can verbalize. However, I feel like I've been on a trajectory to take this trip for a long time. Of course, part of the path is a result of my career choices and where they have led. My career and the questions that I have at the age of 61 can wait for another day. For now, I'll focus on my lifelong enchantment with baseball and why this trip is my next logical step. You see, I trace my life story in terms of my baseball awareness. It's a story that has only one logical ending - my quest to find baseball’s essence and my reason for being. I need to experience each stadium and baseball's wonders. As my father used to say, I need to “collect ballparks”. I Probably Should Be a Yankee Fan As a Bronx native, I guess I should be a Yankee fan. I was born just a short 1.7-mile walk up the Grand Concourse from Yankee Stadium. It's an even shorter trip on the #4 train. It’s only three stops to the Mt. Eden Avenue station and a five-minute walk to Lebanon Hospital on 173rd street. Grand Concourse Looking South Siddarth Hanamanthu, Wikipedia However, I have decidedly National League roots as my father (an ex-catcher) was a Dodger fan. I arrived in the winter of 1957 when he was still distraught that "Dem Bums" moved to California that winter. Frequent Trips to The Stadium When I was five, we moved to St. Petersburg, Florida so my father could further his career in aerospace. Every summer we returned to the Bronx to visit my grandparents and other family members. On every trip, I found myself with him at Yankee Stadium almost as soon as the plane landed. We returned to the sanctity of the Stadium many times during the visit. I acquired my early love for the game on these excursions. In classic style, a devotion for baseball passed from father to son at the ballpark. I assumed it was a common practice to quickly say…