I can't hit a curve ball, or a fastball, or a slider, well you get the picture.

I believe the only reason Yogi Berra stopped winning Championships was because he ran out of fingers.

The earliest memories I have of baseball are not Yogi and his Yankees winning championships. My early baseball memories are of catching a line drive with my nose, the Denver Bears, and Mookie Wilson and the '86 Mets.

My son Jayden is close to 10 years old, I see him at the plate, he bats lefty, he wiggles his bright orange metal bat, takes extremely large breaths and stares at the pitcher waiting for the delivery. 95% of the time he watches that pitch go right by and awaits the verdict of the umpire. What he doesn't do however, is back down. He doesn't pull that front foot back, he doesn't pull the preverbial parchute and eject out of the batter's box. He sticks in there ball or strike and definitely has a one up on his old man. Previously referred to Old Man, could never, ever stay in the box. In fact I was already back to the dugout before the pitcher even started his wind-up. I was flat out scared, but hey there aren't many who can claim catching a line drive with their face; ask Chris Young. We've all seen it happen, and yes most of you rewind and look at it again and again and again...I was 10, pitching batting practice to my dad's softball team, someone who resembled an over weight Dante Bichette walked to the plate. The last thing I remember hearing was "Here let me bat left handed so that I don't hit you..."

Release.

Pause.

Pop.

Black Out!

That one moment must be why I am sitting here at my computer today, and not cleaning champagne out of my long hair in the bowels of a stadium in Arlington, Texas.

So although my son walked or struck out almost everytime up to the plate, he did get two doubles last Thursday in his final game of the season. He didn't back out of the box. He stepped into the pitch, smacked it down the third-base line, sped around first and held up his fists in victory as he stood on second. What had become a frustrating season was wiped away in a moment and you could see that twinkle of give me more of that in his eye! The magic of baseball does that to you.

Maybe, just maybe someone 45 years from now will sit down to write a blog on November 2nd of his earliest baseball memory; the line goes something like this: My earliest baseball memories include a game at Dodger stadium, singing the seventh inning stretch, and Jayden Busch and the '30 Mets.