It might not be America’s pastime anymore, but this time of year it feels good to hear the crack of the bat and the slap of the glove. My nickname was, “Tennis Shoe Ernie,” because my feet were so gal-darn big, ground balls always clipped my tennis shoe, then hit me in the chin. I never got anybody out, and parents in the stands took to laughing at me when I started taking to the field wearing a chinstrap. They hold the overall record for losses in the National League with a dreadful 20-134 record. Yes, while still in high school I leaped from the high diving board to the low diving board, intending to dive into the water from there.
