My father worked for his family business in New York City, and even though he moved us from Queens – a few blocks away from where the World’s Fair and eventual stadia are now – when I was six months old late in 1955, he still worked there for many years.
So my first game memory, as well as my closest brush to baseball immortality, was being in Shea Stadium the day BEFORE Jim Bunning pitched his perfect game.
I remember it being a hot muggy NYC kind of day, and the Phillies lost 7-3.