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newanvil
02-01-2003, 03:11 PM
Hey, fellow Sox fans -

I don't normally do this, but I happened to post an essay on my site called "There Used to Be a Ballpark Right Here". If you'd like to take a look atit, it can be found at http://www.thesentimentalist.com/archives/000060.html.

Here's a brief excerpt. I hope you find it worthy.

It wasn't the best, you know. Maybe once, way back when, on the day it opened, perhaps, when it was the Baseball Palace of the World, or further on, when it was the Grand Lady of the South Side, anchoring working class neighborhood and downtown skyscraper alike. Or when it hosted the very first All-Star Game in 1933, complete with Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig and Lefty Gomez, a nation's eyes riveted to its first true love, or when, in 1959, it seemingly saw the last hope of a pennant starved city to ever join the circle of World Series champions. Or maybe, even, in the early 1960's when it was the de rigueur stop for the Fab Four coming through town with their need for room for 45,000 screaming souls. By the time the end rolled around, though, it was old, and showing its age: paint peeling, cracks in the cement, those hard slatted seats in the upper outfield that never made it into the plastics age.

But, if you were seven, or ten, or even twenty-three or forty-five, sitting on the benches under the outfield with a beer or a Coke on a warm August night, it was simply Comiskey Park, a place you looked forward to visiting, felt at home in, and wished, despite a 11 to 4 drubbing at the hands of the lowly Detroit Tigers, you never had to leave.

voodoochile
02-01-2003, 04:43 PM
Originally posted by newanvil
Hey, fellow Sox fans -

I don't normally do this, but I happened to post an essay on my site called "There Used to Be a Ballpark Right Here". If you'd like to take a look atit, it can be found at http://www.thesentimentalist.com/archives/000060.html.

Here's a brief excerpt. I hope you find it worthy.

It wasn't the best, you know. Maybe once, way back when, on the day it opened, perhaps, when it was the Baseball Palace of the World, or further on, when it was the Grand Lady of the South Side, anchoring working class neighborhood and downtown skyscraper alike. Or when it hosted the very first All-Star Game in 1933, complete with Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig and Lefty Gomez, a nation's eyes riveted to its first true love, or when, in 1959, it seemingly saw the last hope of a pennant starved city to ever join the circle of World Series champions. Or maybe, even, in the early 1960's when it was the de rigueur stop for the Fab Four coming through town with their need for room for 45,000 screaming souls. By the time the end rolled around, though, it was old, and showing its age: paint peeling, cracks in the cement, those hard slatted seats in the upper outfield that never made it into the plastics age.

But, if you were seven, or ten, or even twenty-three or forty-five, sitting on the benches under the outfield with a beer or a Coke on a warm August night, it was simply Comiskey Park, a place you looked forward to visiting, felt at home in, and wished, despite a 11 to 4 drubbing at the hands of the lowly Detroit Tigers, you never had to leave.

Technically speaking we don't allow spam here, but it is a nice piece, so I am going to leave it up.

Otherwise, welcome aboard... :D: