I’m watching my third Philles game in a row.
Many years ago, when I first moved to this area, my daughter was visiting me and we went to a Phillies game
We took the train from Narberth to Suburban Station, then caught the Broad Street subway to the Vet and got seats in the 700 level. (In the 700 level, you pretty much had to bring your own oxygen tank if you wanted to breath).
Mike Schmidt, one of the best third basemen in the history of baseball, was still playing. He was not any Brooks Robinson with his glove, but he may well have been the best all-around third baseman in the history of the game (Brooks couldn’t hit worth a damn, but, with Brooks on third and Mark Belanger at short, pretty much nothing that was under 10 feet in the air made it into left field against Earl Weaver’s Orioles).
I forget who the Phillies were playing that day, but I will always remember the end of the game.
Mike Schmidt ended the game with a solo shot to deep center.
It was over, and we took the train home.
Mike Schmidt is long retired, my daughter is a mother, and I’m a grandfather now.
I’m getting old.
But not old and bitter enough to vote Republican.