The Beginning
I used to be quite the fanatic when it came to sports. I had my favorite teams growing up. It all started when I was nine years old and aquired my first pack of baseball cards. That was the first year I played little league baseball in Riverside California. I was on the Pirates. A perk of being in little league that year was going to my first major league game at Angel Stadium. Back then it wasn't enclosed and was quite the sight for me as I walked through the tunnel and beheld the spectacle of the field and the players warming up. I had started listening to the Angel broadcasts on the radio just a month or two prior and was familiar with the names of the players. Every thing was absolutely a feast for my senses. The sounds of the program guy barking as you came through the gate. The bat hitting the ball. The P.A. announcer. The organ playing tunes throughout. The smell of the food. The sights of the field crew scraping the field and watering it down. The umpires making their entrance and getting booed. They were playing the A's that night back in July of 1967. Pat Dobson held the Angels to three hits. Phil Roof, a light hitting catcher hit a three run home run. The Halos lost 4-0. I went home sad because MY Angels lost, but I also was on cloud 9, because I attended my first major league game. It didn't matter that my seats were way up in the upper deck in right field. Or that only 7 thousand or so fans were there. It was cool, before we used the word cool.
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