April meant one thing to a young Boomer male.
Play ball! Baseball. America’s past time.
We didn’t have video games to play. There were no malls in which to gather. We didn’t ride horses. We didn’t have swim meets. In the spring, we played baseball.
We played catch before school. At recess, we hit pop flies. At lunch hour we’d get in a few innings of 9 on 9, and, of course, when we got out of school, we’d play with whoever was available.
All this meant one thing. Whichever kid had a new baseball, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, was the most popular kid on the block.
Baseballs in decent shape were prized possessions. As I recall, a new Spalding baseball from Keatley’s Sporting Goods in Beckley, WV cost $1.95 in 1954. When your weekly allowance was a dime and there were few other prospects for gainful employment, for a ten year-old right-hander who couldn’t throw a curveball, that may as well have been $500. We just didn’t have that kind of money. So we played with waterlogged baseballs, taped-up baseballs and I remember a few pick-up games when we played with a ball that had no rawhide whatsoever. It was just a ball of twine.
If Christmas came in April, we would have all had baseballs, but nobody thought to ask for one during football and basketball season, that’s when we got tennis shoes or a new football helmet.
The only place we ever saw new baseballs was at a Little League game or practice. During games, the home team gave the ump 3 new or close-to-new balls. If someone fouled off a couple behind that backstop, games were often put on hold till the wayward balls were located.
I may have had 4 new Spalding baseballs during my Little League career, likely gifts from my Grandmother. I remember the tissue in the box that guarded each leather sphere. I remember the feel and smell of a new ball. I remember a sense of sadness when the first scuffmark appeared.
Baseball was an integral part of our lives, as were baseballs in most any condition. And for many Boomers, baseball is still America’s past time.