Growing up when
I did as an American League fan, I don’t have many pleasant memories of the
All-Star Game outside of Reggie Jackson hitting a light standard on the roof at
Tiger Stadium in 1971. I also remember
Harmon Killebrew tearing his hamstring doing the splits at first base trying to
field a throw in 1968, but that was more weird than anything.
It’s different
for Clare. In her lifetime, the American
League has gone 15-6-1. So, what’s not
to love? We sit on the couch, watch the
game and analyze. I’m always pointing at
front feet, she’s looking for signs of hustle.
Summer, and life, don’t get much better than this.
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