Bless you, Ernie!

I wrote this piece shortly after the passing of one of my heroes, Ernie Harwell in May of 2010. Though very brief, it makes me nostalgic and emotional every time I read it, taking me back to a better time where cares were cheaper. Please read and enjoy.




I love baseball.  When I was a kid, only a select set of games were televised locally.  Never missed a broadcast, always looked forward to watching my Tigers and listening to Kell and Kaline.  Yet there were around another 130 games a year I felt compelled to follow.  Utilizing portable radios and, later, a Walkman, I had Ernie Harwell in my ear no matter what the task.  Mowing the lawn, jogging with Dad, car rides to Grandma's.  The familiar sound of his voice reminded me school being out was just around the corner.  It meant that the neighborhood boys would be challenging each other daily in a myriad of games.  Driveway basketball at the Cumberworth's, swimming at the Haggard's, backyard football behind the Loveless'.  The Swamp.  Sprung Leak.  Clydis J. Hoggerdog and Muffin.  Ernie's voice was tied to all of it.  "Pitch on the way, there's a swing and a drive to deep left, way back, it is...LONG GONE!"  Thanks for being the soundtrack of my childhood Mr. Harwell.  I'll be reminded of you often.