I think about Jackie Robinson. I think about Roy Campanella. I still have his 1957 baseball card showing his hitting stance. The '57 Topps is the best of all-time. I think about Koufax and Drysdale. I remember fondly Drysdale's record setting scoreless streak before it was later broken. I remember that night in 1966, the Braves first yr in Atlanta with Koufax on the mound for the visitors. There was something like an hour rain delay. Koufax warmed in the bullpen and returned to finish the game after the delay, in the days when pitchers were expected to finish what they started. I made my way to the bullpen to watch Koufax warm up. His breaking ball was incredible. It was then I learn to appreciate major league hitting. I don't know how they ever put the bat on the ball! I remember manager Tommy Lasorda, the epitome at the time of Dodger blue. Roger Kahn's "The Boys of Summer." Dem Bums in Brooklyn. I was in Brooklyn in 1972. Ebbets Field was long demolished, but I saw where it once stood. Baseball is tradition for people of my gen. No comparison to any other sport