After all, baseball had been an important part of our lives. I walked into the room to watch the end of the game and to endure the probable Dodger defeat with my Dad. The Oakland Athletics were the overwhelming favorites to take the Series. The tying run was at first base, but there were two outs and it was the bottom of the ninth inning. The injured Kirk Gibson, hurting in not just one but both legs, was called upon to pinch hit. I vaguely remember that I may have given a Church fireside that evening, somewhere.) My father, however, had been watching the game on television on television in their upstairs rec room. It was a Saturday night, and I had been out.
I think that I was giving a paper at some sort of academic conference.) The World Series had just begun, but (again, for reasons that I can’t quite recall) I hadn’t been watching it. (I can’t recall why it was during the school year. On 15 October 1988, my family and I were down in southern California visiting my parents for some reason. Those familiar with The Natural and with this story will immediately understand the connection: And, of course, watching that last at-bat in The Natural immediately took me back to one of my favorite memories of my father. (Between jet lag and a terrible cold that I picked up on the second-to-last day in Jerusalem, I’m functioning at about 20% of capacity right now, so I’ve watched several movies.) Those familiar with American Underdog and The Natural will readily understand why the two films are connected in my mind. And seeing it put me in the mood, once again, to watch the 1984 Robert Redford film The Natural.
And I must say that, although I already knew pretty much how the story was going to turn out, I enjoyed the movie quite a bit.
On the flight from Tel Aviv to New York City the other day, one of the films that I watched was American Underdog, a 2021 effort that tells the unlikely story of the former NFL quarterback Kurt Warner. Here is something that I posted on this blog just a short while ago, on : (In support of my subjective judgment I offer, as support, the tributes that have been coming in from across the nation, from people far removed from the southern California broadcast market.) There was a warmth to his voice that was like comfort food, and a poetry to his spoken prose that was unique to him. And I don’t think that it was only that I was very familiar with Vin Scully. Or, during the All-Star Game or the World Series, to still others. ( Jerry Doggett, Vin Scully’s long-time co-announcer, was also exceptionally good.) I sometimes listened to other baseball announcers. We even listened to his commentary when we attended Dodger baseball games. I honestly can’t remember when I first became aware of him he was a fixture from the time I was a child. In any event, Vin Scully was a surprisingly important part of my growing up in greater Los Angeles, over many years. On a very different note, though, I hope that you’ll be able to access this short note: It is, Scott Gordon says, the largest audience ever for a FAIR conference. There is a numerous crowd in attendance at the conference venue, but apparently also a quite large audience watching remotely. I’m sitting right now at the Experience Event Center in Provo, where the 2022 FAIR Conference is underway. (image borrowed from the Experience Event Center Facebook page)