First Gloves: Eddie Stanky

Baseball has long been described as a game that has special meaning for fathers and sons. It’s been romanticized that way for as long as I can remember, in films, and stories, and books, both fiction and non-fiction. I mean, the entire point of perhaps the most popular baseball movie ever, Field of Dreams, was for Ray to get one more chance to play catch with his dad.

That might not resonate as much now as it did in the past, as baseball’s popularity has waned a bit and football’s has risen, not to mention the fact that focusing on fathers and sons does a disservice to any number of mothers and daughters who also love baseball. But, for folks of my age and upbringing, it still carries a good deal of weight. I remember playing catch with my dad, and hitting against him at our local park, and watching or attending dozens of ballgames with him. I made a point of bringing him to a Royals game when I had a son, because I wanted three generations of baseball fans to share that moment. I even made sure he was buried with a Ted Williams baseball card and a ticket stub to a Fenway game in his pocket.

So it hit me pretty hard when I saw this recent post from Mark Armour, who happens to also be the President of SABR’s Board of Directors.