All-Star Memories

Well, mine are probably better than the Mets’ Jeff McNeil.  According to a wire service story in today’s Tribune, the scoreboard at Progressive Field showed the wrong photo—that of Mets’ teammate Jacob deGrom—when McNeil hit in the eighth inning.  The “all-star” scoreboard—gosh, I wonder if anybody paid for naming rights—also messed up the names of David Dahl and Wellington Castillo while identifying Cody Bellinger and Ketel Marte with the wrong team (Braves, as opposed to the Dodgers and Diamondbacks, respectively).  Good thing only National Leaguers were affected, or I might be upset.

While we’re at it, a shout-out to MLB Commissioner Rob Manfred for ignoring all evidence to the contrary to argue the balls are juiced and his predecessor Bud Selig for setting the record straight on Jerry Reinsdorf.  The White Sox owner did not pull Selig’s strings, as has been alleged in some quarters.  Thanks, Bud.  But you judge people by the company they keep.

Two quick All-Star memories of my own, if you please.  Back when they had two such games a season, the second fell on my tenth birthday in 1962, at Wrigley Field as luck would have it.  Did we go?  No.  For some reason, my mother had my one sister drive out to what was then God’s country to visit a church and cemetery dating to the mid-19^th century.  Naturally, we had the ball game on, and I could hear the cheers for Ernie Banks—or Louie Aparicio, I’m not sure which—when he batted as we drove onto the grounds.

Fast-forward twenty-one years, when the All-Star game was celebrating its fiftieth anniversary, yes, at Comiskey Park.  Michele and I tried but couldn’t get tickets.  Our consolation prize was tickets to the old-timers’ game the day before.  Smoky Burgess lined a double in the right-field gap.  I don’t recall anyone misspelling his name.