MESA, Ariz. -- I think a lot about how children connect to baseball. It's a natural thing for a writer to think about. My theory, built up over many years, by the way, is that 8 years old is the perfect age to fall in love with baseball.
I say this for many reasons, not least because when I was 8 the Cincinnati Reds beat the Boston Red Sox in the glorious 1975 World Series, a life-altering moment for me. After that happened, after Luis Tiant gyrated and twisted and befuddled the Reds, after Pete Rose slid headfirst, after Carlton Fisk danced up the first-base line, after Tony Perez belted a blooper pitch into the night, I had no choice but to become an obsessive and lifelong baseball fan.