You never forget your first

You never forget your first

43 years ago, the Detroit Tigers were mired in a terrible season, losing 102 games in 1975. Fans called for Manager Ralph Houk’s head. Only three years earlier, the once-proud Bengals had won the American League East.

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1972 Tigers. From Baseball was better 45 years ago [David Kramer’s collection]

That summer my family visited Grandma Mabel in Detroit and my father took me to Tiger Stadium for my first major league game.  We’d been to many Red Wing games at Silver Stadium, but that night was my first encounter with a big league stadium.

1988 Fleer Team Stickers Baseball #24 Detroit Tigers Logo Tiger Stadium. Note the error as FIRST GAME 4/25/01 should be 4/25/11. [David Kramer’s collection]

My first memory was that the old Tiger Stadium — known as a “bandbox” or “cigar box” ball field because of its relatively small dimensions — didn’t feel much bigger than Silver Stadium on Norton Street.

Probably that day an irate Tiger fan bothered to paint SAVE OUR TIGERS: DUMP HOUK on a blue painted large cardboard sign, hoping to rouse fans in a an uprising against the beleaguered Houk. (Ralph survived the season and would manage the Tigers up to his retirement in 1978.)

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Summer, 1974. A year before the Big Game. From Thanks Dad!

Upon leaving, we discovered the fan had actually DUMPED the sign, now sitting forlornly on some seats. For a reason he can’t now recall, the testy sign intrigued my father. He took DUMP to the car, to Mabel’s house, back to Rochester, and to the garage.  Where it still resides.

43 years later the sign — kept way rearwards under some pots — miraculously survived scores of garage cleanups.

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Julie Everitt and Carol Kramer, Washington D.C., 2003. From The long vigil for peace on the corner of East and Goodman

The protest placard outlived Houk who passed away in 2010.  In the garage only one other sign is remotely similar.  In 2003, my mother protested the Iraq War in Washington D.C. and kept her placard.

Recently, when attempting garage reordering, I rediscovered the cruel sign cast aside by the capricious and ungracious fan. The discovery sparked a Proustian wave of remembrance.

In recall, I realized I have watched and listened to thousands of major league baseball games — and seen minor league ones in Rochester, Pawtucket, RI and Beloit, WI — but attended only 8 major league games and one World Baseball Classic game in Toronto.  Such is the opportunity cost lost by living in the provinces.

As seen in Street & Smith’s now defunct. Here is Kramer & Kramer’s Official 2016 Yearbook, in 1977 I was a huge Texas Ranger fan. My father took me to old Exhibition Stadium in Toronto for my 2nd, 3rd and 4th games.  I brought a pennant the Ranger’s front office had actually sent all the way to Rochester.  The photo represents the awkwardness of adolescence.

1977

from the 1977 game [Photo: Eugene]

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Texas Rangers at Toronto Blue Jays, Exhibition Stadium, 1977

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In the mid 70’s, the pennant arrived in Rochester from Arlington, Texas.

In 1979, my father and I watched the Yankees play the Kansas City Royals in the Bronx. That season, Thurman Munson perished in a plane crash. I don’t remember if the game was before or after his tragic death.ticket

In 1985, some college chums and I ventured from Providence to Fenway Park to watch the Red Sox play the White Sox.  A foul ball bounced off the hands of my friend Bobby Golden and was scooped up by a fan in the adjoining seats.  Bobby winced in pain and disappointment, but recovered to live a good life.

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David Kramer and Deborah Goldberg, @June 2000

On June 7th, 2000, my girlfriend Deborah and I saw the Orioles beat the Mets in Flushing in an interleague game.  As recorded on www.ultimatemets.com, Joel, a Mets fan, shared a memory similar to Bobby’s foul ball experience:

My friend Richard got corporate seats from Merrill Lynch for this game. It was windy and I remember that Mike Piazza hit a couple of balls that normally would have been HR’s if the wind wasn’t blowing. Edgardo Alfonzo hit a foul ball one seat behind us but as we were holding expensive cameras and binoculars, we ducked. That was the closet I ever game to being hit by a foul ball in a game. Anyway, the O’s won the game.

At the tale end of Barry Bond’s career in the mid-2000s, when visiting my sister and her family in northern California, my father and I attended another interleague game — Giants/A’s — at Oakland Alameida County Stadium. From the upper deck, we watched the A’s intentionally walk Bonds four times. Unforgivably, we left early, listening on the radio in the BART train that Bonds was not being intentionally walked his last at bat, and he promptly tripled.

As seen in “An early-spring renewal of the spirit” over 10,000 fungos later, during the 2009 World Baseball Classic, my friend Dean and I watched Canada v. USA at the Rogers Centre that became an article for the Brighton-Pittsford Post.

I’ve also been to three NFL games. In 1998, Dean, my father and I saw the Bills beat the Dolphins in an AFC wild card playoff game. In September 1999,  Deborah’s brother and I attended the Bills – Jets game at the Meadowlands in which Vinny Testaverde broke his leg.  As seen in No Jills; no playoffs for the Bills, on Christmas Eve 2006, Dean and I witnessed Titans v. Bills at Ralph Wilson Stadium. Saved were the newspaper accounts, tickets, program, and the blue wig Dean wore all game (JK).

I’ve been to one regular season NBA game. In 1976, my father took me and friend Billy Swift to the Aud in Buffalo to see our favorite player, Bob McAdoo of the Braves.  On October, 13th, 1988 I saw the Cavaliers crush the Celtics in an exhibition game in Rhode Island.

Date Opponent Location Score Notes
Thu 10/13 1988 Cleveland Cavaliers Providence Civic Center, Providence, RI 80-121 McHale16, Bird 10; Nance 24, Daugherty 16/9

As seen in Rooting for the Rams and remembering St. Patrick’s Day, 1989, in 1992 I also went to a Wisconsin Big Ten game at Camp Randall Stadium in Madison.

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At the Otter Lodge in Brighton, NCAA Championship game, April 6th, 2015, Wisconsin v. Duke. In vintage Pink Flamingo Wisconsin shirt. I MIGHT have worn the shirt to the 1992 Big Ten game. From Rooting for the Rams and remembering St. Patrick’s Day, 1989

OTHER BASEBALL HISTORY STORIES

48 years ago when Rochester saw its first “Designated Pinch Hitter”

45 years ago when the Pittsburgh Pirates fielded a team of “All brothers out there”

Baseball was better 45 years ago

On Yogi Berra and Dale Berra and the 1973 World Series and Willie Mays and my father

When the P.A. announcer told us Nixon had resigned. On the passing of Anna Silver and a most memorable Silver Stadium game

30 years ago when George Brett won the World Series (and Morganna the Kissing Bandit)

30 years ago when Billy Buck broke Rhode Island’s heart

Royals 4 – Mets 3. An opening day World Series rematch with Eugene Kramer

About The Author

dkramer3@naz.edu

Welcome to Talker of the Town! My name is David Kramer. I have a Ph.D in English and teach at Keuka College. I am a former and still active Fellow at the Nazareth College Center for Public History and a Storyteller in Residence at the SmallMatters Institute. Over the years, I have taught at Monroe Community College, the Rochester Institute of Technology and St. John Fisher College. I have published numerous Guest Essays, Letters, Book Reviews and Opinion pieces in The New York Times, Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, the Buffalo News, the Rochester Patriot, the Providence Journal, the Providence Business News, the Brown Alumni Magazine, the New London Day, the Boston Herald, the Messenger Post Newspapers, the Wedge, the Empty Closet, the CITY, Lake Affect Magazine and Brighton Connections. My poetry appears in The Criterion: An International Journal in English and Rundenalia and my academic writing in War, Literature and the Arts and Twentieth Century Literary Criticism. Starting in February 2013, I wrote for three Democratic and Chronicle  blogs, "Make City Schools Better," "Unite Rochester," and the "Editorial Board." When my tenure at the D & C  ended, I wanted to continue conversations first begun there. And start new ones.  So we created this new space, Talker of the Town, where all are invited to join. I don’t like to say these posts are “mine.” Very few of them are the sole product of my sometimes overheated imagination. Instead, I call them partnerships and collaborations. Or as they say in education, “peer group work.” Talker of the Town might better be Talkers of the Town. The blog won’t thrive without your leads, text, pictures, ideas, facebook shares, tweets, comments and criticisms.

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