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The other side of the fence

Related Topics: Fence, Baseball, Father, Afterlife

My earliest memories of baseball are pretty standard: catch with dad, games on the radio, grandfathers and uncles telling me about players of yesteryear. I started t-ball and worked my way up the baseball ladder to Little League and was the bat boy for my dad’s rec league softball teams year after year.

Growing up in a small farming town, baseball was the soundtrack of summer. A game was on the radio in nearly every truck or tractor I rode in as a child and later drove as a teenager and adult. Kids would congregate at the park for makeshift games.