This was my first full year on the road in pursuit of my Around the World in 80 Sporting Events goal of reaching 80 iconic venues and/or events by the time my biological clock hits 60 in June 2027.
As such, I saw a lot in 2025.
In total, I traveled 53,982 miles, set foot on two new continents (Asia and South America), witnessed 26 events, and spent many nights not in my own bed.
Here are my highlights from the year that’s about to have been.
Number 5 – A December Sunday at Green Bay’s Lambeau Field
Packers’ fans celebrate a score during their 28-21 victory over the rival Chicago Bears.
My final event of 2025 was just about everything I could have hoped for.
The visiting Chicago Bears and host Green Bay Packers were playing for the NFC Central Division lead, both had winning percentages of over .700 this late in the season (the first time that’s happened since December 11, 1932), the skies were clear, and the temperatures felt like single-digits by the time the late afternoon game concluded.
The fact that the game came down to the penultimate play, a Caleb Williams pass to the end zone was intercepte by Keisean Nixon sealed the Packers’ 28-21 victory.
The only things that would have made this a game 10-out-of-10 would have been that final Bears’ drive heading into the endzone we were seated in and an occasional snowflake falling to create a total commemorative snow globe moment.
All the Content from Event No. 34 Still Needs to be Created. Stay Tuned:-)
Number 4 – Lionel Messi’s (Likely) Final Competitive Home Match for Team Argentina
This sums up, perfectly, the adoration the Argentine fans have for Lionel Messi.
It’s widely assumed that the 2026 FIFA World Cup will be the final international go-round for Argentine soccer legend, Lionel Messi.
If this in fact remains true, then I’m able to say I was among the 77,000 spectators in Buenos Aires’ Estadio Mas Monumental for one of the game’s greatest of all-time’s final competitive home match when Argentina defeated Venezuela, 3-0, in CONMEBOL’s Matchday 17.
I understood next-to-nothing the public address speaker said throughout, but what I did understand the unmitigated affection that crowd had for Messi. From the standing ovation he received as he stepped off the bus in the loading dock, to his first appearance on the pitch, to the two goals he scored (and even the one that was disallowed by an offsides call), to his exit from the pitch following post-match media.
That no one in the stadium considered leaving until he was off the field is a visual I’m unsure can ever be erased from my mind.
Check Out All the Content from Event No. 24 at this link.
Number 3 – Arkansas Pitcher Gage Wood No-Hits the Murray State Racers in the MCWS
Arkansas pitcher Gage Wood celebrates a big out during his 19 strikeout no-hitter of Murray State during the Men’s College World Series in Omaha.
Like so many, I walked into Omaha’s Charles Schwab Stadium that steamy June 16 afternoon pulling hard for the Cinderella team of the Men’s College World Series, the Murray State Racers.
By the fifth inning, however, allegiances were subtly shifting.
Arkansas Razorback starting pitcher Gage Wood was DEALING! It looked like the Racers’ batters were swinging wet lasagna noodles against Wood as the strikeouts mounted.
By the seventh inning, I’m fairly certain everyone in the park knew what was happening.
That it happened was too cool for school.
Wood threw the first no-hitter in MCWS play in 65 years. His 19 strikeouts were the most in a 9-inning MCWS game … ever.
That I was there and, through the generosity of a stranger, had seats behind homeplate, is truly remarkable.
Check Out All the Content from Event No. 19 at this link.
Number 2 – Indiana Class 4A High School Sectional Final in Historic Muncie Fieldhouse
The opening tip between Greenfield-Central (white uniforms) and Mt. Vernon in the Indiana Class 4A High School Sectional Championship at Muncie Fieldhouse.
I was born and raised in Indiana and, as such, have a special fondness in my heart for high school basketball.
It was a fairly regular part of my weekly life as a youngster before my family moved to Michigan before sixth grade.
So, of the many events I planned to witness in 2025, I eagerly anticipated taking in some Indiana high school tournament basketball action. The first round is known as Sectionals in the Hoosier state and I was underwhelmed by the competitiveness I saw at the first two sites visited.
But on Saturday of Sectional Week … well I saw a gem.
I went with my cousin, Brandon, and his daughter, Calah, to see the Class 4A Sectional Final at historic Muncie Fieldhouse on a warm March evening. That there was a line to get in boded well and that the favored team, Greenfield-Central, was a among the top five teams in the state also provided optimism.
What none of us knew until the game began is who, exactly we were seeing.
Greenfield-Central’s star, Braylon Mullins, would go on to win Indiana’s coveted Mr. Basketball honor a few weeks later. He was a 5-star recruit who was destined for Storrs, CT, and the then 2-time defending NCAA Champion Connecticut Huskies. Mt. Vernon’s standout was a junior who’d already committed to Purdue named Luke Ertel.
The two duked it out all night, Mullins scored 38 and Ertel 36, but the upstarts from Mt. Vernon came away with an 83-76 double-overtime win. A thriller to be sure and a terrific way to cap off my week feasting on basketball in hoop-crazed Indiana.
Check Out All the Content from Event No. 14 at this link.
Number 1 – Witnessing the Setting Sun at the Rose Bowl on January 1
The golden hour at the 2025 Rose Bowl. What a view!
Odd, isn’t it, that I traveled nearly 54,000 miles in 2025 and my most memorable moment came on the very first day?
Never mind the football game (which The Ohio State won in a rout over Oregon), I was there for the environment, the pagentry, and the sunset.
I got it all!
The Tournament of Roses Parade shortly after dawn, the B-2 bomber flyover at the conclusion of “The Star-Spangled Banner,” the ceremonial coin flip featuring the Grand Marshal (Billie Jean King), the Goodyear blimp hovering overhead throughout, and, of course, the sunset that was appointment viewing for me during my youth and – who am I kidding?!? – adulthood.
I won’t lie, it was a long day – especially considering I participated in the Run with the Roses 5K at midnight – but it was the best day of the year by a long shot.
Check Out All the Content from Event No. 11 at this link.
Emily Cole is a co-founder and co-owner of the Savannah Bananas. (Photo by Savannah Bananas)
Holiday greetings to you and yours from your old pal Doug here at The Sports Fan Project.
With both Christmas and New Year’s holidays in 2025 falling on my traditional publication day (Thursday), I’ve decided to give myself – and YOU – a gift (well, technically a re-gift😉 by reaching back into the archives for a pair of episodes that might have flown under the radar when they first published. Fear not, however, we’ll have a special “Conversations with Sports Fans End of the Year Cavalcade of Stars” episode out on December 29th.
Up first is Emily Cole the co-founder and co-owner of the Savannah Bananas. While her yellow tuxedoed husband, Jesse, is seemingly always in the spotlight, Emily – like my wife, at least – is doing much of the work behind the scenes to help make the Bananas’ organization – which expands by two touring teams this season Loco Beach Coconuts and Indianapolis Stars – keep humming along.
I was blessed to have the opportunity for Emily to join me on Conversations just about a year ago and she was fantastic. She shared her early life growing up with older brothers and how sports fandom was not a choice, her early years working for Minor League Baseball franchises, how she and Jesse first crossed paths, and the birth of the Bananas. Also, apropos for the holiday season, Emily discusses the Bananas Foster 501c3 arm of the organization that helps spread the word about the importance of becoming a foster parent.
I hope you enjoy hearing from Emily either for the first time or again as she shares her story of both being a fan and now keeping the fans first.
From the Conversations’ archives, Emily Cole, co-owner of the Savannah Bananas.
In a stroke of advertising campaign brilliance (in my opinion, at least), the folks at Nike launched the “Bo Knows” advertisements for its line of cross-training shoes in 1989 when Bo Jackson became the first modern athlete to play both Major League Baseball and NFL in the same season. Jackson played in both leagues during the 1987, 1988, 1989, and 1990 seasons before he suffered a football career-ending hip injury when tackled following a 34-yard run against the Cincinnati Bengals on January 13, 1991. He eventually played three more seasons in the Majors for both the Chicago White Sox and California Angels before retiring.
The Nike poster from the “Bo Knows” advertising campaign. He was a man for all seasons.
The first advertisement in the campaign (seen in the video below at left) featured Jackson playing a variety of sports with other professional Nike-sponsored athletes commenting on what Bo knew (or did not) know. It ends with him playing guitar – badly – along with legendary blues guitarist, Bo Diddley, who delivers the commercial’s final line, “Bo, you don’t know Diddley!”
The second advertisement (seen in the video below at left) was all about Bo. He appeared in various gear depicting him not just as a baseball and football player, but also basketball, hockey, sprinter, surfer, tennis, jockey, cyclist, and soccer player. It’s from this phase of the campaign that the poster used for this week’s Fan Teaser originated. As you’ll see in the enlarged portion below, all of the sports that Bo knew are printed in the background of all the outfitted Bos.
A close up of the poster.
It seemed a great time to use something Bo Jackson-themed for the Fan Teaser as he was part of the trivia question included near the end of Fan Teaser Week 164Solution: Who are the only two Heisman Trophy winners to play Major League Baseball?
Jackson, of course, is one. The other was Ohio State University halfback, Vic Janowicz, who won the 1950 Heisman before playing two seasons as a catcher for the Pittsburgh Pirates (1953-54) before embarking on a 2-year NFL career with the Washington Redskins (1954-55).
Just one Fan Teaser reader responded with the correct answer, Jerry Hill (aka my father), so now I need to figure out what his prize is going to be.
Maybe Bo knows what it should be;-)
The original “Bo Knows” commercial.
And the sequel.
Just to review, The Fan Teaser was the creation of former Ann Arbor News Sports Editor Geoff Larcom. Longtime friend and fellow Ann Arbor News alum, Pat Schutte, took it to heights previously unknown. We aim to keep it alive here at The Sports Fan Project. The cropped photo and the accompanying clue give you an idea as to who or what the image is of. We invite you to use the Comment option to take a crack at solving the Teaser and, if you’re so inclined, participate in some good-spirited banter with your fellow sports fans. The Fan Teaser will appear each Friday morning with the reveal coming to you Sunday.
An Andrew Good autographed 2000 Bowman Chrome card.
Long ago when I was a relatively youthful sports writer for The Oakland (MI) Press, my primary beat for a two years was covering local sports in the Oakland County communities of Rochester and Troy.
I was blessed during my time on the beat to have a plethora of top-notch student athletes (and coaches) to cover. Among them was a young pitcher for Rochester High School named Andrew Good.
He was playing for the Falcons’ varsity as a freshman and baffling the opposition with a mix of an upper 80 mph fastball and a curve ball that made even some of the best hitters look silly at times. He continued to develop as a sophomore and by his junior season was the unquestioned ace of the staff that wound up winning the Michigan Class A State Championship.
By the time he was a senior I was back in school studying to become a teacher, but I kept an eye on what he was doing and was aware he’d accepted a scholarship offer to Arizona State University, a top-end college program that finished runner up in the 1998 Men’s College World Series and was coached at the time by current Milwaukee Brewers‘ manager Pat Murphy. He became an eighth-round selection in the 1998 MLB Entry Draft by the expansion Arizona Diamondbacks and decided to forego his college eligibility to sign a professional contract.
The Internet not being what it is today, I sort of lost track of him, but was aware he’d made it to the Big Leagues and event pitched in a couple of games for his hometown Detroit Tigers.
Flash forward several years and I’m a teacher and union leader in the very same school district (Rochester) that Andrew graduated from. Imagine my surprise when I saw the rolls of new hires and spotted his name on the list, teaching fifth grade at an elementary school.
Suffice to say it was a fun small world moment the first time we were in a professional development together. That he’s now teaching middle school social studies at the building I first taught at is pretty cool.
I was intentional in not discussing Andrew’s former life as professional baseball player while we were school district colleagues. This Conversation is the first he and I have discussed his baseball life. I hope you find it as fascinating as I did.
Me prior to the start of Game 6 of the World Series in Toronto’s Rogers Centre.
As regular readers of this space likely know, I have a goal to attend 80 of the most iconic sporting events and/or venues the world has to offer by the time I turn 60. So, as Mona Lisa Vito (aka Marisa Tomei) famously stated in My Cousin Vinny … “My biological clock is tickin’ like <foot stomp> this <foot stomp>!” (See the scene here.)
Because of this, and because my hometown Detroit Tigers, the Seattle Mariners, and the Philadelphia Phillies all flamed out of Major League Baseball’s post-season short of the World Series, I made a decision based largely on finances to attend Game 6 of the 2025 World Series in Toronto.
I had lodging lined up in those other cities and even had someone who’d likely be able to secure me a ticket for a reasonable rate in Philly, so if it were any of those squads, I’d have attended a game.
Admittedly, I was asleep at the wheel for Games 1 and 2 of the Series and didn’t even examine too carefully what the cost of attending in Toronto might be. I did, however, look at Games 4 and 5 in Los Angeles and while they were more affordably priced than Toronto’s Game 6 and 7 (the curse of success, I suppose) there would also be airfare, ground transportation, and lodging costs involved.
Potentially, none of that would exist by traveling a few hours north. I could take the VIA Rail train out of Windsor, Ontario, directly to Toronto’s Union Station, walk a few blocks to the Rogers Centre, watch the game, celebrate (fingers crossed) a win with the locals, hang out in Union Station through the night, and return home on the first train to Windsor the next morning. And, despite paying more than three times as much as I’ve paid to attend any of the previous 29 events, I’d still manage to come in under my total budget for attending a World Series.
Plus – the whole biological clock thing – I only had one more crack at a World Series before June 2027 and there is no guarantee the Tigers, Mariners, Phillies or even the Guardians or Blue Jays would be there in 2026.
So the afternoon of Game 5 I booked my roundtrip train ticket and found the best deal I could on a single seat for Game 6 and made the purchase.
I was going to the World Series!
Here’s my own personal version of notable Canadian actor Kiefer Sutherland‘s show, “24” (without all the violence of course;-).
Friday, October 31, 10:30 a.m. EST
A previously scheduled haircut now complete, I swung back by home to pick up a few things I’d failed to pack and began the journey to the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel.
Was I surprised when I got to the border control booth and, upon telling the Canadian customs officer why I was entering the country, he asked to see my ticket?
Perhaps.
Was I all too willing to seek permission to pull out my phone and show it to him?
Absolutely!
Was he a touch jealous?
I believe he might have been.
Satisfied I wasn’t an ugly American entering his homeland with ill intent, he told me to enjoy the game and let me pass.
Picture the largest pavilion in a municipal park you’ve ever visited, put four walls around it, a couple vending machines inside, a small ticket counter, and two restrooms and you’ve got a pretty good idea of the relative size of Windsor Station.
Being Canada and all, there was a small display case touting the Hockey Hall of Fame (Event No. 27, by the way) filled with goalie masks.
Hockey Hall of Fame goalie masks on display at the Windsor Train Station.
I decided I’d try to do a video log to chronicle my travels. The first installment was filmed outside the Station.
I’m still fresh and full of anticipation.
Friday, October 31, 4:45 p.m. EST
We’d just pulled out of Oakville Station and I exchanged a pleasant goodbye to my seat row mate, a twentysomething who operates his own hardscapes business. He was traveling back home to visit family and friends for a long weekend and Halloween party.
Yes, he planned to watch that night’s game, as was 75% of Canada I was thinking. Especially the fella four rows in front of us who, donning a Blue Jays jersey and cap, was a LOUD TALKER. The 12-pack of Molson he brought along when he boarded in Brantford (hometown of Wayne Gretzky, BTW) did nothing to soften his tone.
I was able to glean that this fella is now divorced, the father of two, had some substance abuse issues in his past (and maybe present based upon an empty 12-pack I noticed when we disembarked [disclosure: he did give some to his row mates]), works on power lines, lost some friends who plummeted to their death after not harnessing in correctly, and wasn’t sure where he was going to stay that night, but had some buddy whose flat he’d probably crash at.
He was stoked for Game 6 and felt it would be over after tonight.
That made two of us!
Anticipation builds in the final stretch of my journey to Toronto.
Somewhere following the departure of my pal who left me in Oakville, I figured it’d be prudent to look to see what the Union Station hours were. I’d just assumed that in a city of nearly 3 million people and close to 8 million in the immediate area that it’d be open 24/7.
I was wrong:-(
The website indicated it closes at 12:45 a.m.
Surely that’d change following a Blue Jays’ victory, I figured.
Should I tell my wife that I might be facing several overnight hours on the streets of Toronto? Beyond making her worry was there any point in that?
I chose not to and began researching 24-hour diners … just in case.
Friday, October 31, 5:40 p.m. EST
The main hall at Toronto’s Union Station.
Our train pulled into Union Station about a half hour later than scheduled and as I disembarked the first order of business was to scope out the place, find a spot for hunkering down later, and confirm with someone that it does, in fact, close its doors.
It does, I was told, typically by 1 o’clock each morning, but because of the game tonight – as well as Halloween – those hours might vary.
Here’s hoping!
Fresh off the train and preparing to follow the crowd.
From Union Station I simply needed to follow the Blue Jays-clad crowd and, it appeared, that could all be accomplished without going onto Front Street. Following the SkyWalk over the various rail tracks we ultimately spilled out near the Ripley’s Aquarium of Canada where it seemed like everyone was posing for photos in the fading daylight with the Rogers Centre and CN Tower for backdrops.
Why would I be any different, well, accept for the striking a pose thing?
The inside of the SkyWalk (left) as well as a shot of the CN Tower at sunset (Rogers Centre partially visible behind it) through an extremely dirty window in the SkyWalk.
Friday, October 31, 6:15 p.m. EST
Some sights from outside, clockwise from upper left, one of the oddest pregame giveaways I recall … bread; Katrina was hoping Marlins Man had a hook up for her; the Rogers Centre marquee says it all; even the side of the marquee had Blue Jays’ fever; a spot for fan photos in a random corner outside Rogers Centre.
By the time I made my way to the plaza surrounding the Rogers Centre, it was clear these Toronto fans were more than ready for this game.
The crowd – some costumed thanks to it being Halloween night – was festive and plentiful. There were even folks around without tickets who were just there to experience the vibe. I overhead a mother telling her two children that they were just looking around and then they’d head back to Scotiabank Arena where they had tickets for a watch party.
Yes, you read that correctly. The game was being played four blocks away with 45,000 people in attendance and another 18,000 or so would take it in via videoboards just down the street.
Two things I observed while milling about the area:
First, in one of the all-time strangest pre-game giveaways I can remember, I was handed a 4-pack of King’s Hawaiian Sweet Rolls. I’ve seen energy drinks, canned cocktails, tobacco substitutes, and the like given away before events but never did I receive a package of slider buns. What the heck were folks supposed to do with those, considering they wouldn’t be allowed in the stadium? Consequently, the few trash receptacles nearby were overflowing with packages of King’s Hawaiian.
Second, I spotted a woman @Katrinaisnice holding a sign that wanted @Marlins_Man to have her join him at the game. The Marlins Man is a fella who sat behind homeplate at the first five games decked out in Miami Marlins’ garb. He’s been doing it for several years. I actually learned just a day or two earlier that I knew a fella who knew him. I texted Ryan who, first laughed, and then told me he didn’t think Marlins Man would be at tonight’s game. I hope Katrina found a taker.
Friday, October 31, 6:45 p.m. EST
Entering the Rogers Centre.
Lots of people on the concourse.
I’m in!
Suprisingly, entry into the Rogers Centre went as efficiently as I’ve seen at a major event such as this. Perhaps it was due to me walking to the opposite side of the plaza where all the people were congregating, but I had – essentially – next-in-line service, scanned my ticket and was now attending my first World Series since Game 3 of the 2012 Tigers-Giants Series at Comerica Park.
And it wasn’t as though I was among the earliest entrants.
I quickly ascertained that Torontonians were FIRED UP for this possible clincher. The concourses became increasingly more and more crowded until, as I took a lap, I discovered a choke point in left-center field where the Fox Sports Studio team was set up. Whether it was due to the space it was occupying, the number of gawkers watching A-Rod, Papi, and Jeter, or something else, we were essentially at a standstill for several minutes. Which afforded me a glance at the World Series Trophy and – for reason’s known only to him – A-Rod clenching his pen between his teeth.
Eventually, I made my way up to my seats in the 500 Level. And if you think that sounds like a long way from the field of play, you’d be right. It was borderline vertigo-inducing and the players appeared somewhere between ant- and mouse-sized below.
But I was in the building and had a chance to witness a season-ender.
Clockwise from upper left, the Fox Sports desk with A-Rod, Papi, Jeter, and a bit of the World Series Trophy; this fan was predicting the future; a look at the sea of fans on the Rogers Centre concourse; the MLB Tonight studio desk at field level; and a random oversized Blue Jays hat was available for photo ops along the ramp to the 500 Level.
Friday, October 31, 7:30 p.m. EST
Yoshi Yamamoto’s insanely long, long-toss.
As I settled into my seat in the next-to-last row I took it all in. The grandeur of this stadium, of the crowd that was beginning to fill up the seating areas a solid 45 minutes before first pitch, and of Dodgers’ starting pitcher Yoshi Yamamoto who was beginning his pre-start routine with an unfathomable long-toss regiment from deepest center field to the wall in right field. The distance was so great the fella who was returing his throws needed to 1-hop them to the Yamamoto.
From there, it was time for pre-game falderal.
The ceremonial first pitch came courtesy of Devon White who made a whale of a catch in 1992’s Game 3 against Atlanta. And, yes, it should have been a triple play!
White’s 1992 Game 3 catch.
White’s Game 6 first pitch.
From there it was anthem time (both the U.S. and Canadian), an obligatory hype video for the home team, and the taking of the field by the Blue Jays.
Finally, it was game time!
Friday, October 31, 8 p.m. EST
The Blue Jays take the field.
Game 6 could hardly have started better for the host Blue Jays. Pitcher Kevin Gausman struck out the side in the top of the first and then followed it up with another perfect inning, fanning two more.
Alas, Yamamoto was every bit his equal, facing the minimum six batters through two innings as well.
Los Angeles scored three runs in their half of the third, but Toronto countered with one its own to narrow the gap, slightly. From there it was Nervous Nellie time for the majority of the 44,710 fans.
A few observations from my spot amid the Rogers Centre rafters’ riff-raff.
I purposely selected my headwear for the game – Montreal Expos hat – as a nod to Canadian baseball. I’m still bitter enough about Toronto’s George Bell winning the 1987 American League MVP over Detroit’s Alan Trammell that there was no way I’d wear a Jays’ hat. But the Expos, a team yanked from the country by MLB and wealthy owners – yeah – I can get behind that. Surprisingly, I received plenty of compliments about my headwear, including a hat tap from another Expos’ wearing fan during my walk around the concourse earlier.
Knowing what I paid for my seat, I was aghast to overhear the fella to my right explaining baseball to his female companion. Did he really just drop the better part of $1,500 CAD and bring someone with him who didn’t know a thing about baseball!?! As I overheard her sarcastically say to the person to her right, “Nothing like learning baseball at Game 6 of the World Series.” Oy vay, he had!
Converserly, four adult family members and massive Blue Jays’ fans, were seated in single seats throughout my section. They found four seats in the last row that remained vacant following the third inning and rejoined together there. I spoke to one earlier in the evening and they’d just driven eight hours from Sault Ste. Marie, ON, to Toronto for the game.
Though I’m guessing it wasn’t them, I swear the person a row below me to my left was Jeopardy! Super Champion, Mattea Roach. A Canada native, Roach went on a month-long winning streak the spring of 2022 and amassed over half-a-million U.S. dollars in winnings. If, in fact, it was Roach sitting in front of me … they enjoy cold beer (or four!)
Was this person seated a row in front of me to my left Jeopardy! Super Champion, Mattea Roach? I think it’s entirely possible.
Friday, October 31, Sometime Around 10 p.m. EST
The Blue Jays began running out of time. After leaving runners at first and second in the sixth inning, about the only positive to come from that was Yamamoto’s exit from the game to start before the seventh inning.
My thoughts after six innings.
My thoughts after seven innings.
Friday, October 31, Approximately 10:45 p.m. EST
The Dodgers shake hands following the stunning conclusion to Game 6.
With Yamamoto out there was a sense of hope among us fans in the outer reaches.
That a 2-out double was wasted in the seventh inning and runners at first and second with one out in the eighth went without a run certainly tempered that optimism.
But Blue Jays’ fans from Halifax to Whitehorse dreamed the impossible dream in the bottom of the ninth when Toronto catcher Alejandro Kirk was hit by a pitch to lead off. And when Addison Barger striped a 2-2 pitch to the base of the wall seemingly scoring pinch-runner Myles Straw, the Rogers Centre was ready to lose its roof.
Alas, what I was able to see from my vantage point, but fans behind me or those potentially looking at the runners couldn’t see, was that Barger’s line drive was wedged between the base of the wall and its padding. Dodgers’ center fielder Justin Dean raised his arms immediately to indicate it was unplayable which meant Straw was returned to third base.
Still, the crowd was crackling as, with tying run on a second, nobody out, and the line up destined to turn over to lead off hitter and ALCS hero, George Springer.
Then, in a decision that our high school baseball coach, Larry Weis, is no doubt still angry about, Clement did the unthinkable. Not only did he swing at the first pitch against a starting pitcher coming out of the bullpen, he popped out to second base, thus not advancing the Blue Jays’ cause whatsoever.
When light-hitting shortstop Andres Gimenez then hit a sinking liner to left-center on the second pitch he saw and Kike Hernandez leapt, caught, and threw in one motion back to second to double off Barger, the nearly euphoric crowd was gobsmacked into stunned silence.
The entire sequence played out on the field directly below my vantage point and no matter how loudly I yelled “BACK!!!” to Barger, it did no good. He violated one of the earliest rules of baseball: see the ball hit the ground before taking off. He took a couple of hard steps toward third before realizing he needed to get back.
And, just like that, the Blue Jays went from 180-feet away from extra innings to – three pitches later – having to face the World Champions in a deciding Game 7 a day later.
Do I look gobsmacked? I know I felt gobsmacked after that finish.
Friday, October 31, 11:15 p.m. EST
Clockwise from upper left, at the back of a bar in left-center field is the distance, presumably, to hit one there; a shot in the 200 Level of Rogers Centre; this mural adorns a wall in the concourse; the Sportsnet postgame set on the field; and the scoreboard lets folks know the World Series continues.
Like many of my 44,000-plus fellow fans, I was in no mood to leave.
I sat and surveyed the scene around me: The fella in front of me called a buddy to talk it out; my family from Sault Ste. Marie began exploring tickets for Saturday night; the Mattea Roach doppelganger finished their last beverage, gathered their belongings, and began descending the stairs; and that guy and his female friend who’d, apparently, never seen a baseball game before … yeah, they weren’t even in their seats for that fateful ninth inning.
As I slowly steeled myself for what lie ahead – six hours on the streets of Toronto – I came to grips with the fact that my shot at seeing one of only 121 final games of an MLB season had been dashed in a matter of three pitches.
Three stinking pitches!
Extra innings would have certainly been nice for my situation. I figured the longer I could stay in the Rogers Centre the better. So I took the long way out of the stadium, stopping to examine some spots I’d not seen on my way in.
And then, I left the climate controlled confines of Rogers Centre for the cool Halloween Night air of downtown Toronto.
Friday, October 31, 11:50 p.m. EST
Clockwise from left, I got up close to the CN Tower; and was reminded of how soon the 2026 Milano-Cortina Games are; there was a healthy supply of law enforcement ready for something that didn’t seem to materialize.
As me and thousands of others sought solace with each other on Front Street, a few things popped into my head.
Thank heaven it’s not raining;
The city was ready for a victory (or righteous rage) based upon the volume of police in riot gear along the street;
As a man with a megaphone railed against Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney for all to hear, it seems everyone, everywhere has something to complain about;
The CBC advertisement for the 2026 Milano-Cortina Winter Olympics made me realize I’ll be there in fewer than 100 days;
I wasn’t familiar with Sportsnet’s Tim Micallef, but I walked a block with him and chatted him up about all things Canada, including any pointers he had for my coming trip to the 112th CFL Grey Cup;
Finally, the Los Angeles Dodgers wasted little time in getting out the Rogers Centre. By the time I’d made my way to Front and Lower Simcoe streets, the Dodgers’ team buses were rolling through the intersection.
The Dodgers’ buses roll by the gathered throng of fans at Front and Lower Simcoe streets.
Saturday, November 1, 12:15 a.m.
I arrived back at Union Station where I witnessed an odd amalgamation of baseball fans and Halloween revelers co-mingling in search of transportation out of the city center.
Many of the costumed seemed to lean into the Joker and Suicide Squad franchises. I saw countless iterations of Harley Quinn (the Joker’s girlfriend) as well as the Joker himself. To say I had my fill of white face paint with bright red lip gloss would be an understatement.
As many of the Halloween party goers skewed younger (think teens and early twenties), there were more than a few who were – shall I say – underdressed for the early morning hours of November 1. Somewhere there were parents who would not have approved of their costume choices, methinks.
Anyhow, I approached a uniformed security guard and asked if there was, in fact, a designated closing time for the station. He said that there was (1:30 a.m., he’d heard) but that the bus station’s doors stay open later. He also tipped me to an all-night A&W Restaurant a few blocks down on Front Street that might provide me some shelter and sustenance during the overnight hours.
I found a comfortable seat out of the way in the station, took out a notebook I’d brought along, and began jotting notes down about my experiences to the moment.
All was well until about 1:45 a.m. when more security began doing a sweep of the area I was in. They noted the last trains were soon to depart and we should all get to our spots. I asked for directions to the bus station (also part of the Union Station complex) and made my way there.
Saturday, November 1, 2 a.m.
To give you a sense of some of the folks hanging with me in the Bus Station. On the plus side, the vending machines offered some fine fare that reminded me of the convenience stores in Japan.
The bus station was bustling (see what I did there;-). It seems many of the Halloweeners planned to party until they could party no more. Buses, it appeared were the preferred mode of transportation out of Toronto, with the last one scheduled to depart shortly before 4 a.m.
This boded well for me wandering the streets. It would, in effect, be only about an hour and a half that I’d have to kill outside the cover of the station.
I attempted to find a seat out of the way but was unsuccessful. Apparently, I was a magnet for others to sit near. Mainly it was 17-to-20 year olds who’d not fully thought through returning to their homes from whatever party they’d attended.
As I went into full eavesdropping mode, I inferred that many had not purchased a bus ticket prior to arriving at the station (they were now sold out) and were suffering from sticker shock on the cost of rideshares on such a busy night. The rate I heard time and again was $300 to get them to their destination, something this crowd either would not or, more likely, could not pay. Others, it seemed, felt Halloween night would be treated the same at New Year’s Eve and trains would run later than normal … which they did not.
Finally, I could take it no more, and put on my dad hat and addressed the five who were seated directly behind me.
I suggested that their parents would probably like to know where they were and that they were safe (if they’d not already been in contact) and that if they were tired of sitting around here waiting for Uber rates to drop, perhaps they should go to the A&W a few blocks away, get something to eat, and try again in an hour or so when they’d likely become more affordable.
They politely thanked me for my thoughts and before I knew it had left (either to get away from dad or to get a few orders of fries and a root beer).
Meanwhile, I went back to checking out the scene around me which continued to amaze at how many people had, apparently, not thought through how they’d get to their homes.
Eventually, a little before 4 a.m., the final bus left the station and security paid us a visit asking where we were headed.
I proudly responded, “A&W!”
To which he chuckled.
By 4 a.m., I headed out into that chilly, dark Toronto night.
Saturday, November 1, 4:15 a.m.
Perhaps I was expecting, nay, hoping for an American A&W experience where I might be able to get a chili dog and a root beer float to wash away my cares at a quarter past four in the morning. Alas, what I found was more closely related to a McDonald’s or Wendy’s.
Sure, there was root beer and fries, but the sandwiches were limited to burgers and chicken. I went with the Chubby Chicken Burger with fries and root beer and looked for a seat.
What I saw were several, rapidly hanging over post-adolescents in all manner of face paint and costumes, congregating at various tables among discarded bags, wrappers, napkins, and cups festooning much of the rest of the seating areas. I cleaned off a spot on the counter facing out the front window and awaited my number to be called.
As I claimed my order, I noticed a sign posted behind the counter: “Maximum 30-minute seating time.” I looked at my clock and figured I’d need to be on my way by about 4:45 which would mean a 45-minute walk around downtown.
I sipped my soda and munched on my fries and got a jump start on some of my New York Times games.
Saturday, November 1, 4:45 a.m.
Clockwise from upper left, the exterior of the Hockey Hall of Fame from across Front Street; a display of the commemorative coin from 1972’s Summit Series; the Eaton Centre is all in on the Blue Jays; the exterior of Union Station; the workers and customers at this Starbucks were away so the mouse came out to play; this sculpture of young hockey players is in front of the Hall of Fame.
As I made my way back to Yonge Street, I was far from the only one out. Many that I saw were still in costume and, apparently, decided to do what I was doing: biding their time until public transportation began again. I saw only a few folks who appeared to – maybe – be baseball fans. The lion’s share of people out were those getting their Saturday started and a few from the unhoused population who were doing what they’d likely be doing 364 other nights of the year.
It was an invigorating walk about half a mile up Yonge Street to the Eaton Center. Along the way, I spotted a mouse running laps around the dining area in still-closed Starbucks (perhaps it had a nip or two of one too many espresso beans?), walked by a few folks laying face down on the sidewalk’s steam vents seeking warmth, and found a couple of active construction sites.
Besides watching the rodent races at Starbucks, I spent a bit of time at the exterior of the Hockey Hall of Fame, a spot I’d visited just a few weeks earlier as Event No. 27. Previously, I’d not taken the time see the sculpture out front or note the 1972 Summit Series remembrance.
Before I knew it, I was approaching Union Station and stood off to the side waiting for the doors to open shortly after 5:30 a.m.
A few thoughts during my walk about in Toronto.
Saturday, November 1, 5:35 a.m.
Union Station was much quieter in the early morning than it was in the late afternoon.
Back in the comforts of Union Station, I proceeded to my VIA Rail gate and got comfortable, awaiting my scheduled 6:50 a.m. train to Windsor.
It was a much quieter trip back to Windsor. Mercifully, my loud-talking, beer guzzling passenger mate did not return to Brantford at this early hour (color me shocked!). Most of us who made our way onto my car either closed our eyes or pulled out a device to wile away the hours until we arrived at our destination.
For me, that was Windsor and I was back by …
Saturday, November 1, 11:45 a.m.
My final video diary installment from the Windsor Train Station.
As I climbed in my car and began heading toward the Detroit-Windsor Tunnel for my hour or so commute back home, I realized I had to make one final stop. Thought it’s literally an hour from my driveway, I don’t make it to Windsor … ever.
So as I drove down Riverside Drive, I pulled into a parking lot near the Bert Weeks Memorial Gardens and took out my phone one more time to capture an image I’ve rarely seen in person: The Detroit skyline from the Windsor side of the Detroit River.
The Detroit skyline (and a few gulls) as seen from the Windsor side of the Detroit River.
My guest on Conversations, Will Bardenwerper, is the author of Homestand. A book that’s as beautiful to read as its cover is to look at.
I can’t remember the exact context, but I had about an hour to kill between a pair of appointments sometime in May and found myself near a Barnes & Noble bookstore. I figured a stroll through the racks might be a pleasant way to wile away a few minutes and allow me to see what was new and notable.
It was of a baseball diamond with its lights aglow under a cotton candy sky while a coach and player conversed at first base and a mound visit ocurred in the background.
As I reviewed the book’s synopsis, I learned that Bardenwerper was an ex-Army Airborne Ranger who had enlisted following the terrorist attacks on 9/11. An English major during his undergrad at Princeton, Bardenwerper turned his focus to writing post-military service. Homestand, his second book, took him to Batavia, NY, for the duration of the 2022 baseball season to chronicle the trials and tribulations of a community coming to grips with the loss of its beloved Class A Batavia Muckdogs from the New York-Penn League, which Major League Baseball eliminated during a massive contraction of 25% of the affiliated Minor League Baseball teams following the COVID-19 Pandemic.
From the synopsis it appeared Bardenwerper would simultaneously examine the relationship between a small community and its baseball team and the larger impact economic impact of MLB decided to kneecap a quarter of its affiliated minor league teams.
A few weeks later when I found myself in my local library looking for something new to read, I recollected that moment in Barnes & Noble and was pleased to discover Homestand was in. Scarcely a half-dozen chapters in, I was searching the Internet looking for a way to contact Bardenwerper about appearing on Conversations. He was game but wished to wait until the Fall when a couple of projects he had in the works would be behind him.
I believe the resulting Conversation is one that fans of baseball, small towns, and the endearing characters that intersect within each will enjoy.
As I bide my time overnight in Union Station waiting for my 6:50 a.m. to Windsor, I figured I’d get a few photos out to you.
It was a wild day to be sure: Train from Windsor to Toronto, an hour of pregame atmosphere soak within the stadium, a tense 3-hour game, and the letdown from what might have been … in just three pitches.
Anyhow, some of what my bleary eyes liked the look of are below. (Formatting tol get cleaned up on a computer later.)
And, before you ask, the current get-in-the-door for Game 7 two sections over from where I was for Game 6, currently lists for $800 Canadian more than what I paid for this one. My budget doesn’t allow for a repeat:-( If you’d like to Venmo me however …
The CN Tower post-game.Me on the 200 Level.Dodgers shake hands. Light show before the bottom of the 9th. The flag for “Oh Canada” was massive. A more subdued look for “The Star-Spangled Banner.”Me on the 500 Level. The FOX Sports fellas and the trophy. The fans were optimistic pre-game. My passerby photographer did not pass the assignment:-(I reached out to a guy I know … The marquee out front. My first look at the CN Tower and Rogers Centre through a dirty skywalk window.
Dad and I out front of the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY.
I made mention to a friend recently that if I lived about three hours closer, I’d probably visit the National Baseball Hall of Fame monthly.
A bit hyperbolic?
Perhaps, but I can assure you if it wasn’t an 8-hour drive from where I reside, I’d be there at least quarterly. And if I lived within a couple hours I’d seriously consider volunteering.
And it’s not just the Hall of Fame – my own personal version of Shangri-La – it’s the entire village of Cooperstown, NY, that I adore.
It’s the single stoplight town, the flag pole in the center Main Street that passes for a roundabout, the (mainly) baseball-themed shops up and down that same Main Street, the quirky – and delicious! – diners and restaurants throughout, the scenery around Otsego Lake.
It’s all of it!
When plotting my Around the World in 80 Sporting Events project there was never a doubt a visit to the Baseball Hall would make the list. Never mind that I’d already been there four times previously.
And that’s my message to anyone reading this today: Go!
If you’ve never been … go!
If you have been before … go, again!
The exhibits are constantly being refreshed, the movie in the Grandstand Theater changes fairly regularly, and each July new inductees are enshrined.
There, I’ll step off my soapbox and share a bit of my recent visit as Event No. 26 of this long and winding road of sports fandom I’ve chosen to undertake. And, because I could write a fairly lengthy post about this place, I’ve decided to post a few of the many images I captured that sparked something in me and reflect on those. Don’t worry, I’ll post the rest of my photos and a couple videos soon on the full page of Event No. 26.
HoFer Stemware
Ryne Sandberg’s stemware at The Otesaga. It features a white rose because Sandberg passed away the day after the most-recent Induction Ceremony.
During each successive visit to Cooperstown I try to do something new.
This year, because we had a bit of time Friday following our drive from New York City, my dad and I decided to save the Hall of Fame visit for Saturday and do the other things we hoped to accomplish that afternoon.
Among our stops were many of the shops along Main Street, a visit to the Leatherstocking Golf Course, and an early dinner in The Otesaga Resort Hotel‘s Hawkeye Bar & Grill. It was our first time inside the venerable old inn that houses all the living Hall of Famers each July during Induction Weekend.
Both my father and I enjoyed the showcase (two, actually) featuring personalized stemware with the name of each living Hall of Famer and their number inscribed on the glass. There were three glasses with a white rose in the bowl. Each member of the Hall who died between Induction Ceremonies is honored with a white rose in their glass before it’s retired and, presumably, given to the family. There were roses in the glasses of Rickey Henderson, Dave Parker, and Ryne Sandberg. In Sandberg’s case, he died the day following the 2025 Induction Ceremony.
As we enjoyed our sandwiches and some Ryder Cup action in the Hawkeye, it wasn’t too difficult for dad and I to wonder what stories those walls would share if only they could talk.
“The Captain’s” High School Hat
The ballcap of Derek Jeter from Kalamazoo Central High School in western Michigan.
I walked by this artifact thinking it was some Kansas City hat from long ago before doing a u-turn to more closely examine something else in the showcase. That’s when I discovered this hat was actually that of lifetime New York Yankees’ shortstop Derek Jeter‘s from his high school, Kalamazoo (MI) Central.
This is the sort of quirky stuff that I notice during visits that keeps me coming back. If it had been displayed previously I missed it and if it hadn’t, it made me wonder what prompted the curators to put it out now.
A recording of Bob Sheppard introduces Derek Jeter at the 2010 MLB All-Star Game in Anaheim.
And then I thought of the legendary Yankee Stadium public address announcer Bob Sheppard introducing Jeter and how, for the final five years of his playing career following Sheppard’s death in 2010, he still used his recorded introduction during home games.
Duty Calls
St. Louis Cardinals’ player Curt Flood’s letter to then-Commissioner Bowie Kuhn challenging what was known as the “reserve clause.”
The final 14 years of my professional life in K-12 education were spent as my local union’s elected president. When I saw Curt Flood‘s letter to then-Commissioner Bowie Kuhn challenging his ability to be free to play where he wanted following the expiration of his contract it sort of stopped me in my tracks.
I don’t claim to be familiar with all the intricacies of the Flood case, but I do know what it means to take a principled stand for what you believe is right. These 128 words likely cost Flood the remainder of his Major League Baseball career (he sat our the entire 1970 season during the litigation and only played 13 more games in Washington the following the season).
The sad reality is that he lost his case before the U.S. Supreme Court (5-3), but the Court noted that MLB’s “antitrust exemption was tenuous” and, in so doing, helped set in motion widespread free agency in MLB during the next decade.
When I first visited the Hall as a teenager I would have carelessly walked by this letter. Now, however, to be this close to a piece of labor rights history was awe-inspiring.
Perfect No More
The Comerica Park bag from first base of the missed out call by umpire Jim Joyce that cost Tigers’ pitcher Armando Galarraga a perfect game.
June 2, 2010 was a Wednesday night and, as a fourth grade teacher, I was working through finishing up grading work and getting things situated for the final couple weeks of the school year. As always during that era the Detroit Tigers’ game was on the television in the background.
As the game moved forward, I noticed the line score after – I believe – the sixth inning and saw Tigers’ journeyman starter, Armando Galarraga, hadn’t allowed a hit. Suddenly, my work rate slowed in direct relation to my game attention rate increasing.
And then, it happened, in the top of the ninth inning, Cleveland’s Luke Donald hit a slow roller wide of first base, Miguel Cabrera nabbed it and tossed it to Galarraga who was covering the bag.
Out! A perfect game! The 21st in MLB history and the second within a week (Phillies’ pitcher Roy Halladay tossed one May 29 against the Marlins).
The footage of the final non-out of Armando Galarraga’s imperfect perfect game.
Yes, inexplicably as replays showed over – and over! – Joyce called Donald safe in the days before instant replay challenges existed and Galarraga’s perfecto was kaput. He then retired Trevor Crowe on a groundout to finish the 3-0 victory.
And there, in front of me behind glass at the Hall, was the base from that game. Sure, there are other artifacts from perfect games, but none is as unique as this one from a uniquely imperfect perfect game.
The Voice of My Adolescence
Radio broadcaster Ernie Harwell was – and is to this day – a Detroit treasure.
The Hall is comprised not just of on-field artifacts, there’s a small wing devoted to the journalists who cover it, both print and broadcast.
Longtime Detroit Tigers’ broadcaster Ernie Harwell was the 1981 Ford C. Frick Award recipient for his broadcasting work – and he still had 21 more years to go!
He was, in many ways, the voice of my adolescence as I’d listen to he and longtime partner Paul Carey tell stories and describe the action from whereever the Tigers’ happened to be playing send off to slumber more times than I can recall.
Having the opportunity to caddie in a foursome that included Harwell and Tigers’ manager – and Hall of Famer – Sparky Andersoncontinues to be a memory I hold dear from the magical summer of 1984 and wrote about here two years ago.
Sho-Time
This lenticular-style display shows Shohei Ohtani from all angles and on all teams.
I’ll leave you with this one from the newest exhibit to open, Yakyu-Baseball.
Yakyu, which is Japanese for baseball, is a big salute to baseball on both sides of the Pacific Ocean and how those two worlds have merged during the past half century.
One of the centerpieces in this area is an oversized lenticular-style card (e.g. motion) of current Los Angeles Dodgers’ superstar, Shohei Ohtani. In the middle is his No. 17 Dodgers’ jersey and Angels’ hat, but as you look at it from the left, center, and right, you see three different images: the first is of him for Team Japan during the 2023 World Baseball Classic, the middle is of him as a Dodger mid-swing, and the final is of him as an Angel pitching.
The display fascinated me for multiple reasons. First, it was a throwback to my days of youth when I’d encourage mom to buy Kellogg’s brand cereals in order to nab one of their lenticular-style cards. Second, it allowed me to marvel for a moment at what Ohtani is accomplishing in real time before my eyes. Finally, because it was a topic of conversation when I visited Tokyo in May and watched a Nippon Professional Baseball game, how much better was Ohtani compared to his leaguemates in Japan when he was playing there?
A Final Look
Don’t forget to head to the east side of the Otsego Lake for the chance to see the setting sun, here from Lakewood Cemetery.
Craig pulls the curtain back about what it’s like to work in this baseball fantasyland. He says he makes it a point to walk through the Plaque Gallery every day to remind himself where he’s at.
Craig goes on to share the story about how this baseball Shangri-La came to be in the tiny village of Cooperstown in central New York State.
As noted in the companion post (Where’s the Golf!?! [aka My Time at the 2025 Ryder Cup]), my father and I had our planned itinerary out east get scrambled thanks to the weather forecast … and the generosity of the PGA of America.
We were supposed to finish our travel into Long Island from our Pennsyvlania hotel on Wednesday and stop along the way to check out one of two museums in New Jersey we’d both been eyeballing for sometime: The Yogi Berra Museum and Learning Center on the campus of Montclair State University and the USGA Golf Museum and Library in Liberty Corner. We’d then hit the other museum on our way out of town on Friday.
With the hurry-up call to get to Bethpage Black Golf Course on Wednesday, we made the decision to head to New Jersey on Thursday and pay a visit to both museums rather than spend another day on what was looking to be a soggy and somewhat deserted Ryder Cup grounds.
Here’s my take on the two museums, as different as night and day, but equally enjoyable in their own way.
But First … Christy Mathewson
About the time we pulled into to visit the Mathewson family plot, a man was walking his dog and offered to take our photo. A pretty special moment to be sure.
We spent the night during our trip east in New Columbia, PA, which is just a few miles from Lewisburg, home of Bucknell University.
My dad, in doing his research before our trip, discovered that Christy Mathewson, one of the Baseball Hall of Fame‘s original class of inductees, was buried in Lewisburg Cemetery. A native of Factoryville, PA, Mathewson was a 3-sport athlete at Bucknell and his wife was a Lewsiburg native.
It was a no-brainer to pay our respects to a name we were both familiar with.
And then we discovered the football stadium is also named for the baseball great so a campus drive about ensued. Which led to a visit to the Bucknell Golf Club and a spotting of its own version of the more-famous Oakmont Country Club‘s “church pew bunkers.”
Clockwise from upper left, the backside of the baseball stadium’s scoreboard; Christy Mathewson’s gravestone; the Bucknell University Golf Course features it’s own version of the “church pew bunkers” from a more famous Pennsyvlania course, Oakmont Country Club; the Mathewson family plot; and the athletic stadium named in Mathewson’s honor.
The USGA Golf Museum
The exterior of the USGA Golf Museum and the map of its interior.
This has long been on my father’s list of places he’d like to visit.
An avid golfer throughout much of his life and a 1-time card-carrying member of the United States Golf Association (USGA), he’s frequently talked about this spot, but never had the opportunity to get there. I determined we’d make a go of visiting and, if the weather permitted, even pay the extra $10 fee to do some putting on the famed Pynes Putting Course. (Spoiler alert, the weather did not cooperate.)
As one might imagine a golf museum, it is stately and, for the most part, a quiet space to brush with the greatest in the game’s history.
There are five rooms dedicated soley to the accomplishments of five notable golf individuals from golf’s history: Bobby Jones, Ben Hogan, Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, and Mickey Wright (widely considered the greatest women’s player, ever).
The Hall of Champions, as the name suggests, features the names of every USGA-sponsored competition winner in history as well as all of the trophies on display.
Finally, there is an exhibit near the back that takes visitors through a chronological history of the game in the United States.
Many of the artifacts are breathtaking and straight from the collections of the golfers (in the case of the five themed rooms) themselves. Reading the names of past winners in the Hall of Champions – especially those of Junior-level winners – is fascinating to see who has/have become household names in the sport achieving greatness in their youth.
Clockwise from upper left, a showcase featuring artifacts from Arnold Palmer’s career; this painting of the 16h hole at Augusta National Golf Club was painted by President Dwight D. Eisenhower and presented to Bobby Jones; this portrait of Jones by Thomas Edgar Stephens was later copied by Eisenhower (the Eisenhower version hangs Butler Cabin at Augusta National); this Jack Nicklaus sculpture is a centerpiece in his namesake room; the U.S. Open Championship Trophy includes the name of 2025 winner, J.J. Spaun; a wider look at all the trophies on display; this “Superpowers” area features plenty about Palmer, Nicklaus, and Gary Player; this Sam Snead hat caught my eye; the jumpsuit of Jack Nicklaus II who caddied for his dad during the 1986 Masters; Mickey Wright’s final round scorecard of her 1958 U.S. Open victory at Forest Lake Country Club in Bloomfield Hils, MI, (I’ve enjoyed brunch there on several occasions!); the Ben Hogan Award; Hogan’s Green Jacket from The Masters; various artifacts from Johnny Miller’s 1973 U.S. Open victory.
Perhaps my favorite item in all of the museum was the drawing of Palmer by James David Chase entitled “Gratitude.” At first glance, as you enter the Arnold Palmer Room it appears to be created by a series of lines or a sketch. Upon closer look, it’s actually words and statements either used by Palmer or by others to describe Palmer, his game, his humanity, etc. The accompanying video interview with the artist indicated it took 12 years to create and for many of the smallest statements he needed to wear eye magnification and hold his breath while writing.
It’s hard to do it justice, but what appears to be a pencil drawing of Palmer’s face (top) is, in reality, a series of words and phrases (bottom two images).
The Yogi Berra Museum
A look at Yogi Berra Stadium (home to Montclair State University and the New Jersey Institute of Technology baseball teams), the outside of the museum, and a famous Yogism.
I’m not a New York Yankees’ fan (I live in Detroit, right!?!), but I am a fan of baseball and the English language which, I suppose, means I’m bound by primal forces of nature to be a fan of Baseball Hall of Famer and Yankees’ legend, Yogi Berra.
Having never seen him play, I only knew about Yogi the ex-baseball player and probably wouldn’t have given a second thought about visiting his namesake museum and learning center on the campus Montclair State University, but I am familiar with the Yogisms and his on-the-field success. The tipping point for me wanting to pay a visit, however, was viewing the 2022 Berra documentary, “It Ain’t Over.” I cannot recommend it enough. A total loveletter from his
While there are some lovely artifacts housed here, I’d categorize the spot as more of a menagerie of things collected through the years by either the Berra family or donated to Yogi by former teammates and other Yankees.
The theater in the Yogi Berra Museum.
If you find yourself in the area like we did, do take the time to visit the theater, which is built to resemble Yankee Stadium, and view the 2011 episode of “Boys in the Hall” that features Berra. It’s hosted by longtime NBC anchorman Tom Brokaw and provides a terrific backdrop about who Berra was.
Clockwise from upper left, Yogi leads a cavalcade of Hall of Famers onto the field during the 2008 All-Star Game at Yankee Stadium; an area near the entrance to the exhibit hall; Yogi’s Presidential Medal of Freedom and military medals; several artifacts from his playing days with the Yankees; Yogi was on Omaha Beach during the D-Day Invasion; plaques of teammates Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle from the old Monument Park at Yankee Stadium; the jerseys of fellow Yankee catchers Elston Howard (the first black Yankee), Thurman Munson, and Jorge Posada; some artifacts from his time with the New York Mets; the yellow Yankees’ World Series rings are the ones Berra won; portraits of some New York baseball royalty line a wall; broadcaster and former teammate Phil Rizzuto was fond of saying “holy cow,” this one’s signed by many legends; a look at the exhibit area.
