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             The men there talked about the art and skill of baseball, and I was at least intrigued by that. I found an encyclopedia article that states: "Baseball requires skill and athleticism, but also has a depth of strategy and anticipation which often goes unrecognized by those less familiar with the sport. Pitchers develop strategies on how to pitch to the batter by studying the batter's previous plate appearances throughout the year." (Zollman) Mom was definitely a top-hitter for not recognizing the skill involved in things she did not herself enjoy. Everything from baseball to abstract painting was done without talent. However, Mom was not completely off-base when she complained about the sexist and otherwise undesirable aspects of baseball and other sports, especially on television. A recent report found that "The television sports news did focus regularly on women, but rarely on women athletes. More common were portrayals of women as comical targets of the newscasters' jokes and/or as sexual objects (e.g., women spectators in bikinis)." (Duncan et al) My father said it did a growing boy some good to see what real men were like. I suppose that was part of the major differences between them, but also in some ways what made them so much alike. I did not feel like I was a part of my Mom or father"s vision for me. .

             By the time I was six or seven, there was a group of neighborhood kids that started up their own weekend baseball game. (During the summer, weekend baseball games are played any day it is not raining.) The backyards in our area were all connected and there was a "community rule" intended to beautify our lawns and create a tight-knit community of neighbors which prohibited the use of fences. This meant that the kids had a nice open playing field, once someone agreed to let them play in their yard, of course. Fear of broken windows from stray baseballs and dislike of rowdy boys made most of the yards, even those belonging to the boys" parents, off-limits for play.