Sep 29, 2010, 2:57 PM EST
Who says you don’t get anything good via the regular old U.S. Mail these days? I just got a great letter. It just so happened to be written in 1960. At least originally. Its author — the mother of one of my close friends — transcribed it for me and sent it my way.
The date: October 13, 1960. The author: Judi, a nice retired grandmother now, but then a student at Pitt. Now, as then, she was a baseball fan. The letter was written to her parents right after she got home from watching Bill Mazeroski hit the most famous home run in World Series history. I won’t reproduce it all, but it starts out with a bang:
“You will never guess where I have just been. To the last and most exciting World Series game!”
The letter describes the spur of the moment decision — “it wasn’t too hard a decision to make” — to wait in a line for standing-room-only tickets. She and two friends took turns waiting in the line that queued up at 9PM the previous night until noon on the day of the game, relieving each other to go to morning classes and the like. They got their tickets: “$4.40 for standing room! I think that is terrible, but I was happy to go.”
Once the gates opened, Judi and her friends had to run — literally run — to find a good place to stand in Forbes Field. They made it directly behind home plate. Which, given how you can barely loiter down the baselines at minor league games these days, seems incredible to me. Today, standing in the aisle behind the plate during the World Series would likely get you sent to Guantanamo. In Yankee Stadium it would mean summary execution.
The game: “perfectly fabulous.” Judi kept score, and enclosed the scorecard in the original letter to her parents. She said “I missed some of the pitchers, etc., because people were yelling so loud, and I forgot whether right field was 7 or 9.” She had to explain to her companions — two male math majors who obviously didn’t know much about baseball — why, if such a beast as “pinch hitting” were allowed, Casey Stengel couldn’t just have Mickey Mantle bat every single time. Judi didn’t mind, however, because she enjoyed being “the expert,” for a change, and schooling these young men on baseball was a lot of fun.
At this point I’m going to risk both my marriage and my friendship with Judi’s three children to say that if I found a woman like her when I was a-courtin’, I probably would have proposed to her on the spot. But I digress. Let’s cut to the best passage of the letter:
“So many times we were perfectly jubilant and so many times really sad, and yet, in the end, I was so weak I could hardly scream. As we went out of the ballpark there was Benny Benack and the Boys really whooping it up . . . the streets were full of happy people, and horns have been blowing from the minute the game was over until right now (7:00 p.m.). I imagine it will go on all night.”
Mazeroski’s home run itself got a basic description, most notable because “he had to fight his way to home plate due to all of the fans on the field.” But the description of the crowds, the city and the campus — where students feared that the Cathedral of Learning would tip to the Forbes Field side because so many people were watching out the windows all week — went on and on, with great warmth.
Community. Passion. Shared experiences. Infectious enthusiasm. It’s easy to forget sometimes, but there’s a lot more to the game than the game itself. Even when it’s one of the greatest games ever.
Thanks for sharing, Judi!
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