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Fondest childhood memories

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Some of my fondest childhood memories were with the Twins game playing on the radio in the background. I remember going to bed early on school nights against my will and catching the end of the game on my transistor radio laying there in the dark in my bed.

I remember laying elbows down on the living room carpet in front of a black and white tv on a Saturday afternoon watching a ball game while sorting my Topps baseball cards in to piles by team and wishing I had a few bucks to buy some more wax packs to try and complete my collection for that year. At school all my buddies knew who was closest to completing their collection and that person was the envy of all others. Many important trades took place on the playground. All were carefully calculated and afterwards discussed for value just like actual big league trades.

One family evening has always repeated itself in my mind....

After a day of walleye fishing on Lake Mille Lacs, I spent an hour wading in the water tipping rocks looking for crawdads until dark. My dad came down to tell me it was time to come back to the camp site down the road from lakeside about 75 yards. It was just deep enough in to the woods to where the forest shadowed total darkness on to the campsite. Except for the flickering of the orange fire.

I laid flat on my back on one of those folding lawn chairs looking up at the sky through the opening in the trees. Void of any city lights I could pick out great detail in the stars. Even an occasional shooting star or tiny bit of faint movement that I speculated must be from another world.

My parents had beers and chatted by the fire while I tuned them out and listened to the closing innings of the Twins game on the radio.

The way I remember it, Mike Marshall threw 120 mph fastballs in the 9th to secure the win for the Twins.

I went in to the tent and slid in to my flannel sleeping bag and zipped it up tightly to keep the crisp night air out. Best nights sleep I ever had.
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  1. strumdatjag's Avatar
    I remember going to the Old Met in the 1960s as a kid with my friends (one friend's dad had seats for his business and we went once a year to a weekday day game). We'd always order a beer from the old African-American beer vendor who later always wore the "umbrella hat". We knew we wouldn't get served but his response was always the classic "Milk for you son!". Wally and his baseball Card may have been fun for later generations, but not as good as that!
  2. Spikecurveball's Avatar
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