So, I guess you could say this is a follow-up to my recent paper on the Boy Scouts of America, which you can read about here. I also have a hunch that the nostalgia can ultimately be traced back to my grandfather, Linwood Hadley, a man whom I’ve never met nor rarely ever heard mentioned except in passing, but whose profound influence could be felt in the manner of my upbringing. Baseball was just something we did once in a while, kind of like visiting Mount Rushmore or the Grand Canyon. Hot dogs and the cult of patriotism and all that. I figure their noticeable interest ultimately had something to do with our American pastime. We peered in and digested the enthusiasm, but only sparingly. That is to say, we were not a sports addict family. This also probably explains why my grandfather attended our father-and-son outings. Sure, he took me to Dodgers and Angels games as a child, but baseball was likely only nostalgic to my father because it was nostalgic to his father before him. Perhaps this is another shrink issue and I should altogether stop writing articles on my hangups over the fact that we’re being lied to about everything. AN ARTICLE on baseball would never be complete without mention of my father.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |