Once upon a time, before soccer captured my imagination, baseball was king. I have an attic and basement full of cards, magazines, pennants, autographed bats and baseballs, and other assorted memorabilia. My three favorite baseball treasures include a 1954 Topps Henry Aaron rookie card, a bat signed and used by Dale Murphy in 1987 and a pennant from the Glens Falls Tigers.

I went to a Glens Falls Tigers game with my family on a road trip to Cooperstown, NY. At the time I was searching for a new team (mostly to spite my dad) and for some reason had settled on liking a very bad Atlanta Braves team. My interest started with their lanky right-fielder Dale Murphy but was reinforced by their accessibility on TBS.

At Glens Falls I was an unsuspecting witness to baseball history and the very beginning of an historic run by the Atlanta Braves. I had no idea that a pitcher on the Glens Falls roster would soon be on his way to Atlanta and part of the best trio of pitchers in the modern era (John Smoltz, Greg Maddux and Tom Glavine).

But in the summer(s) of 1987/1988 I couldn't imagine a Braves team without Dale Murphy. Sadly, Murphy was traded to the Phillies before the Braves went on that run. I suppose there's a lesson in all this waxing because while I was thinking about the present - Dale Murphy roaming right field in a Braves uniform - some smart baseball men were acquiring talent like John Smoltz from the Glens Falls Tigers with an eye on the future.

While my enthusiasm for baseball has waned my affinity for Smoltz (and the Atlanta Braves) remains. The Braves are inextricably linked to a very innocent and idyllic part of my adolescence and that's why this latest injury stings so deeply...It [his injury] is a grim reminder that time is the great violator™ and that if we hold on to the past too tightly we may end up with an attic or basement full of musty memorabilia.

There's more to the story though...My dad never begrudged my adoption of the Atlanta Braves. He took me to Atlanta to see Dale Murphy at the old Fulton Country Stadium. He also bought me that autographed bat. My dad was encouraging me to explore the space and many years later he would even abet my separation from baseball by trudging to a U.S. versus Scotland soccer match.

Only certainty for Smoltz: Hall of Fame
It's 514 miles from Glens Falls, N.Y., to Richmond. John Smoltz dragged out the trip to 14 hours in 1987. He was in no hurry. He was trying to sort things out, not easy for a 20-year-old who had just been traded by his hometown team, the Detroit Tigers, to the Atlanta Braves. And for a grumpy old pitcher twice his age. John's mind was in a tornadic whirl...

Related
Smoltz says he will attempt a comeback
Maddux on the mound a joy to watch

Labels: baseball, weekend