On Aug. 10, 1979, the Jaffe family of Salt Lake City piled into our maroon-and-faux-wood-panel Chevy Caprice station wagon for a road trip to California. As dusk hit somewhere near the western Nevada border, my father tuned the radio dial and magically summoned a Dodgers game, called by a friendly-sounding voice: Vin Scully, who in those days alternated innings with partner Jerry Doggett.
I was nine at the time, nestled in the back of the station wagon. The previous summer, I'd become absorbed in baseball's day-to-day flow for the first time, learning to read box scores, batting averages and division standings.