A Fan Finally Makes It to Cooperstown

By Fyllis Hockman

The year was 1954. For the first time in six years, the New York Yankees were not in contention for the World Series. But I didn't care. I spent the early school year racing home to watch my heroes on our tiny black-and-white TV set. I knew not only all the players -- Andy Carey on third, Mickey Mantle in center, Hank Bauer in right, Moose Skowron on first, Yogi Berra catching -- but also their batting averages and other stats. I was obsessed. I was also a 10-year-old girl.

Years later, when all my friends were watching "American Bandstand," I was hanging out at Yankee Stadium. But time passed. My sports team loyalty switched from baseball to football, and now that I live in Washington, D.C., maybe the Capitals hockey team. But it was an upcoming trip to Cooperstown, New York -- home of the Baseball Hall of Fame -- that took me decades back to that baseball-crazy little girl -- and the fear that I would no longer care.

So there I was. And I did. It was hard not to focus on baseball when the whole town was obsessed with it, as was noted on well-worn T-shirts sporting (pun intended) the slogan: "A drinking town with a baseball problem."

Just walking along Main Street was a not-so-subtle introduction to the national pastime: a quick bite at the Dugout Bar and Grill, a storefront promoting Safe at Home collectibles, Shoeless Joe's -- a "Field of Dreams reference" -- with promises of more baseball memorabilia, a Baseball Town Motel that offered lodging; and the Heroes of Baseball Wax Museum providing a niche version of the usual famous replicas. Want a bat with your name inscribed on it -- and who wouldn't? Visit the Bat Store.

OK, I get it. It's a baseball town. But does it have to be everywhere? Apparently, yes. Several folks in baseball uniforms strolled the streets without drawing any attention. And because it was autumn, there were pumpkins displayed along the street -- some the size of and decorated like huge baseballs. Even the toothpicks in the Otesaga Resort Hotel restaurant had tiny baseballs attached to their tips. Baseballs apparently come in many sizes. A TV in one of the diners had a football game on -- man, did that seem out of place!

At the Doubleday Cafe, I snarkily asked if it would be more appropriate to be called the Doubleheader Cafe, until someone patiently -- and no doubt a tad pityingly -- explained to me that Abner Doubleday was credited with inventing baseball. I slithered away from the cafe and was only slightly mollified to later discover that actually he hadn't.

Want to literally walk in the steps of Hall of Famers? Plan a stay at the stately Otesaga Resort Hotel, a historic Cooperstown landmark that houses new inductees, their families and former honorees every induction year. Apparently, pretty much every Hall of Famer has stayed at the resort -- and has probably had one of the toothpicks holding a cherry or an olive in a drink.

Which brings us back to the Baseball Hall of Fame since clearly the rest of the town is just an extension thereof. Where to begin? An introductory movie starts with a trivia quiz of memorable moments -- and then tells you where in the hall you can get more information or find the famous memorabilia referenced on film. In case you want to see a ball from the first game at which admission was charged -- Sept. 10, 1858 -- you'll know right where to go. Lou Gehrig. Cal Ripken. Sandy Koufax. Nolan Ryan. Willie Mayes. Despite my many years away, I still knew a surprising number of players, and it was still thrilling.

Traversing the many hallways of the hall was like walking on sacred ground. You could spend two hours -- or two weeks -- and still find stuff to see. The first, a photo gallery covering generations of greats, includes information about those on exhibit. But it's the intimate quotes from the players themselves that humanize the entire sport.

When I got to the Yankees' Highlights Era, I was channeling a very excited 10-year-old self. I found Mickey and Yogi and felt an immediate kinship. It was as if they knew I was coming back after all these years just to see them. Or maybe not. Ten-year-olds can be very unreliable narrators.

Of course, there were also Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron and Satchel Paige I wouldn't say that even if you have no interest in baseball, you'll be enthralled. But still, if you're just a fair-weather fan you will find something that will delight you.

A large display that caught my interest was devoted to the origin of women's baseball teams -- 1943-54 -- which inspired the movie "A League of Their Own." It warmed my little 10-year-old heart. In my high school days, there was no Title IX, no girls' baseball team, no opportunity for me to play a game I already loved -- and I felt deprived my entire life. I coulda been a female Moose Skowron.

Later, at another local baseball-infused tavern, three TVs were tuned to baseball games. After spending so much time at the Hall of Fame, I didn't know whether they were historic replays or current games.

If you happen to go into baseball overload, other Cooperstown diversions wait to be enjoyed. But if the 10-year-old inside me has a say, I would never leave the Baseball Hall of Fame. Mickey and I still have some unfinished business.

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WHEN YOU GO

For more information: www.baseballhall.org, www.otesaga.com and www.thisiscooperstown.com.

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Fyllis Hockman is a freelance writer. To read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.