The ballparks in my old stomping ground of New York are shutting their doors. The newspapers reported the impending closing of Yankee and Shea Stadiums, in the Bronx and Queens, respectively. My dad, who lived in Queens after I left for college, would meet me at Shea Stadium and we'd watch a Mets game together. I'd arrive by the #7 train that left Manhattan for Queens. He was usually there first, having taken the #7 as well, but from the opposite direction. It was a time for father and son to get together, enjoy each other’s company, yet not feel as if each one of us had to hold up our end of the conversation. It was enough to be with one another, watch the Mets, and take in the sights and the sounds of baseball in New York. And now, those times are gone, my dad's gone, and soon the baseball stadiums will be a memory, too. Ah, what I wouldn't give to have some extra innings with my dad...
Baseball. It's not just in our blood: it's in our literature and in our artwork as well. Somehow the sport has come to represent an ideal time in our collective history and in our individual lives. Throw in a little apple pie, a touch of Norman Rockwell, and voilà...you get the idea.
This Saturday SAAM and the neighboring National Portrait Gallery are teaming up to present Baseball Family Day. Players from the Washington Nationals will be on hand for the first part of the program (11:30 to 1:30) to read from baseball-themed books. Afterward, kids can have their pictures taken with the players, then create their own baseball cards and photo frames. The event continues until 3:00 and will also include a tour of baseball-related art in the galleries. (A self-guided tour will also be available in the form of a brochure.)
That, as they say, is the game plan. If you're like me you'll enjoy the event for what it is, as well as for what it might mean to you a little further down the road.
