My birthday is two days off, so I used
the money from my mother-in-law—who went on doubleheader dates with her future
husband to the upper deck in right field at Comiskey Park—to treat myself to a
team autographed ball by the 1979 White Sox.
Mike Proly, you’re mine.
Lately, I’ve been thinking of
constructing a family tree from team autographed balls—1939 for the year my
parents married; 1942 for my sister Barbara and 1946 for my sister Betty; down
to 1990 and 1991 for Chris and Clare, respectively. Of course, grandchildren would get a ball,
too, depending on year of birth. Now,
all I have to do is win the lottery to grow my tree, if you will.
Until then, I’ll just have to be
happy with a ball autographed by Don Kessinger in his only season as a
major-league manager.
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