At the of 10, I pitched my first baseball game. By 16, I had pitched my last. I was a product of a career cut short by tendonitis in the elbow of my throwing arm. I recall coming home after high school games to the weak therapy of a heating pad which only isolated my pain. The throbbing would be so intense that I was unable to move my arm enough to pick up a pencil to do my math homework. I knew things were on their way down when a kid clobbered a 300 some-odd foot homerun off of the first pitch of my career. It would be the only homerun I gave up all year, but as the season moved on, my stamina withered. A 5 inning outing quickly turned into 4 innings then 3. Before I knew it, I was moved to the role of closer. By the end of the season, I was lucky if I could handle more than 1 innings worth of work. My fastball steadily declined from the upper-mid 70s to the low 60s. With only two games left in the season, I broke my left thumb and was done for the season.
Little League
8 June 2008
8 May 2008
Growing up, Saturday afternoons in the Spring meant two things: playing little league and buying baseball cards. My weekly allowance until I was 7 was $1. My parents wisely taught me what the value of $1 was. By the age of 9, I had proven my appreciation for the all mighty dollar and was given a raise for a weekly allowance of $5. My goodness, FIVE DOLLARS. Each week, I'd drag my father to Baseball Card and Memorabilia in my hometown of Great Neck, New York and peruse the store, looking for a pack or two that I could afford. There was the bargain bin that enabled me to purchase packs for 50 cents each. 1991 Fleer, 1989 Topps, maybe even a 1990 Upper Deck if I was lucky. Heck, I even still have a 1988 Score pack of baseball cards which I intend on never opening. But with $5, I could now purchase multiple packs of high-priced cards for the first time in my life. It was like years of eating chuck steak and all of sudden having your first bite of filet mignon. You cannot go back, nor will you. I bought packs of Fleer Ultra, Upper Deck HD, Leaf, Pinnacle...The list goes on. Before I knew it, I had too many cards to count. When I filled up 30 books of cards, I found a huge rectangular box and threw my lesser valued cards in there. My hobby became a passion, one which lasted until I was 13. By that time I noticed girls and realized that although a 1997 Topps Finest Refractor Frank Thomas was awesome, no girl in their right mind would find my passion sexy. So I stopped buying cards religiously. Occasionally at the local drug store, I'd find myself buying a pack. But these days, like the price of gas, baseball cards are ridiculously expensive. Five Dollars for a pack of 8 cards is highway robbery. The 7 year-olds of today are losing out on a hobby that helped introduce me to my best friend, learn ridiculous facts about my favorite athletes, and, all-in-all, teach me to love a sport. If anyone from Topps, Upper Deck, Fleer, etc. is listening, America's youth needs you to lower those prices so that we don't lose the greatest hobby there is.
Posted by Andrew Fixell | No comments yet
