Return with me to yesteryear. It was the Fall of 1956. The baseball World Series was an epic event and it was beginning to be televised nationally. The games were played in the afternoon. I was a 16 year old kid with a Dad that lived and breathed baseball so I always anticipated the Series.
Our High School somehow commandeered a console TV and placed it in the gymnasium so that students and teachers could watch the World Series. They didn't have 60 inch screens in those days so you had to huddle close to the set. Kids sat on the floor, folding chairs and the bleachers.
The key to gaining the privilege to watch games was "study hall". If students had an afternoon study hall, they could go directly to the gymnasium and watch as long as they got to their next class on time. Because I participated in four different sports, my study hall was usually scheduled at the end of the day (that way I could always get to practice on time). During the World Series, I got to leave the study hall at around 2:00 PM and watch the best part of the game.
In 1956, I remember going to the gymnasium on a sunny afternoon to watch the Yankees play the Brooklyn Dodgers. The Dodgers always made it to the Series and always lost. Always. On this afternoon, the Yankees had Don Larsen pitching. He was not particularly popular as a pitcher but on this day he began to experience something special. By the 6th inning, not one Dodger had reached base. As the game moved on, the guys on the football team faced a dilemma. Do we continue watch the no-hitter (perfect game) or leave the gym to practice football. The problem was solved when the coaches stayed to watch the ball game end. The rest is history. Larsen pitched the only perfect World Series game (27 batters came to bat and 27 batters made out). I got to see the ending of perhaps the greatest game ever played.
The World Series begins tomorrow. I don't have to beg out of a study hall to watch it. Somehow 'sneaking away" to watch history on a small black and white TV in a smelly gym heightened a young kids interest. It was indeed a privilege. So I might watch an inning or two of tonights game just for nostalgia reasons. Somehow it still seems like a privilege.
Love,
Dad