I have distinct childhood memories of being told to go to bed far earlier than I felt was necessary. The sun would still be shining (okay, setting), and it was early enough that I could hear people outside having fun a few doors down (okay, probably not children my age, but all the same…). Part of the memory of being told to go to bed was trying to find something to do to protest the fact that I was being banished for no apparent reason. And so – baseball. My first love of baseball really and truly comes from falling asleep on summer nights, listening to Tom Cheek and Jerry Howarth letting me know exactly how the ‘boys of summer’ were doing. I had this rinky-dink white radio that didn’t show you what station you were on, just a small little red line over and near AM590, and I would do my best to make sure that the dial didn’t move all summer, because it would be the most incredibly frustrating thing to have to find that station again. The only exception I would make was for AM640 when the Leafs were playing the Habs. Continue reading
