Your Views Information Exchange TROA Calendar Sounding Taps TROA Home Magazine Staff Copyright Notice . I still can picture my father shuffling his cargo of youngsters through the throng to our seats at Ebbets Field and smell the frothy aromas of draft beer mixed with briny steam from hot dogs and sauerkraut.
Pop sits down, open-mouthed kids on each side.
It was bigger than life, and somehow I never imagined that mere mortals could step on hallowed turf and play that game. Yet for 100 aging baseball dreamers, the implausible happened. The fantasy begins Spotting an empty seat midway in the bus, I sling my bag onto the overhead rack and slide next to the window. A guy in a leather jacket and gold earring plops down beside me. Next comes an executive in a pinstriped suit and tie.