(Second in a series of three)
August 3, 2022, began like any morning I’ve woken up in Cooperstown, NY. Gloriously.
The first time I rode down this main street, I was in my mid-20s, in the back seat of a car driven by my brother-in-law Jim, with my sister Chris riding shotgun. As we arrived on Main Street that gorgeous summer evening, I got goosebumps, and tears sprang to my eyes – an involuntary reaction to this baseball soul entering a mystical environment. It was epic, and I will never forget it. But that wasn’t the day when I stepped into my personal Field of Dreams.
August 2, 2022, had already been amazing. I drove to Cooperstown with three of my best baseball sidekicks: my sister Nancy, my dyed-in-the-orange-and-blue Mets fan bestie Karyn (KK), and my son Will.
Walking up to the Baseball Hall of Fame & Museum, we were greeted by my fourth (but not least) baseball bestie, my son Christopher, clad in his official Hall of Fame shirt and a nametag that read, “Intern”. I think I behaved well enough so as not to completely embarrass my long-ago “Little Nomar” (although that was achieved later during the trip).
By 2022, I was a veteran Hall of Fame visitor and of course, a museum member, but as always, my heart skipped a beat as I gazed at that year’s shiny new membership card and walked through the hallowed halls.
Along with other baseball moments shared among the four of us, The Intern treated his big brother to a once-in-a-lifetime birthday experience of being up close and personal with an artifact that had never been displayed, one wielded by Will’s favorite player, Jason Varitek. It was a fantastic afternoon, and even one with historic baseball significance, as the great Ford Frick Award-winning Vin Scullly had passed away that same day. A baseball legend if ever there were one!
At dinner that night, The Intern told us something that caused us to delay our drive home by a couple of hours. So on August 3, we enjoyed another fantastic morning roaming shops on Main Street and soaking up more baseball in the museum. And then, just after lunch, we returned to enjoy that day’s speakers’ event.
And unbeknownst to me, an erudite, wisecracking, time-tested sportswriter was about to remind me how and why I came to go to journalism school. And why I love to write.
PR around the horn 