Monday, August 4, 2008

there was no joy in mudville...


i was sad to read last night that long time atlanta braves announcer skip caray had died. baseball, both little league and the braves, comprised some of the formative experiences of my childhood. i loved playing baseball (usually coached by my dad), and we used to watch the braves together every night. i remember the worst to first braves, i know exactly where i was when sid slid, and glavine, smoltz, and avery were just three of my heroes. i used to dread when jeff blauser would come to the plate. baseball then was innocent for me. it was a perfect game, and i knew nothing about free agency, players unions, or performance enhancing drugs.

i remember my first game at old atlanta-fulton county stadium with my dad. we got there way too early to see batting practice, and i had a blast. all along the way skip, pete, don, and joe called all of the games. i hated listening to other announcers (especially during the playoffs; i still can't stand tim mccarver) because they weren't braves homers and it just didn't feel right. my parents would let me stay up late to watch the playoff games (life lesson: you can only stay up late for sports!), and i probably drove my parents crazy doing the tomahawk chop in the living room. i still hate the twins and blue jays, and it was *so* satisfying to finally win the world series in '95.

i guess hearing about skip really brought back some cheesy but good childhood memories for me. here's a perfect moment from my childhood, and one last tribute to skip caray. he truly will be missed.

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