Twenty years ago I visited for the first time the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York (HOF). I spent parts of three days in the Museum reading all of the plaques in the historic, first floor Plaque Gallery, and viewing, often twice, the exhibits on all three floors of HOF. This past week I made a second pilgrimage to baseball’s promised land. I was invited to participate in the 37th Annual Cooperstown Symposium on Baseball and American Culture (Symposium). It was one eventful, action-packed day, a once in a lifetime type experience. Let me share it with you.

Where did American baseball find its beginnings? In 1905 the president of the National League, Abraham Mills, chaired a group to answer the question. The Mills Commission Report, issued in late 1907, concluded that baseball was invented by Abner Doubleday at Cooperstown, New York, in 1839. Most baseball historians have depicted the Report’s conclusion as a myth. Indeed, Doubleday, a Union general in the Civil War, never made the claim in his lifetime nor do his memoirs even mention baseball. Most historians believe baseball is based on a game British children played called “rounders”, involving a pitcher, batter and four bases. In “New York town ball”, just like in cricket, there were no actual foul lines such that every batted ball was in play. Outs could be made by simply fielding the ball on one hop.

The origin of American baseball can indeed be traced to New York state. I found an exhibit on the second floor of HOF explaining that the United States Congress on June 3, 1953, officially credited Alexander Joy Cartwright, a bookseller in Manhattan, with inventing the modern game of baseball. Cartwright founded in 1842 the Knickerbocker Base Ball Club of New York, baseball’s first organized club. By 1857 there were sixteen area clubs, forming the National Association of Base Ball Players. Teams played the “Knickerbocker Rules” requiring fielders to tag or force the runner to record an out. To commemorate baseball’s beginnings, HOF was established in 1939 at Cooperstown by Stephen Carlton Clark, who was an heir to the popular Singer sewing machines. His idea was to make the town a tourist spot. While the town remains today quaint in every sense of the word, HOF is the home to thousands of visitors annually.

My day this past week at HOF began as a moderator for a panel discussion at the Symposium. One of my panelists presented a paper on the Bud Harrelson—Pete Rose fight during the fifth inning of Game 3 of the 1973 NLCS. She was a lifelong Mets fan, and her favorite all-time player is Harrelson. We joked about how differently I, as a 14-year old Reds fan, saw that fight than she did. The teams split the first NLCS two games in Cincinnati with the Reds scoring just two runs due to New York’s dominant pitching. Harrelson remarked to the media that the Reds were hitting like him (.236 lifetime batting average). This fueled the tension between the teams in the fifth inning of Game 3 as Rose slid hard into second base to break up a double play, resulting in a bench clearing brawl. A second panelist shared the touching story of Reds third baseman Todd Frazier delivering on a promise to hit a home run for Reds batboy Teddy Kremer in 2014. Teddy and I went to the same high school in Cincinnati. It was a perfect panel for me to moderate.

After the Symposium panel, my wife and I had several hours to visit the Museum. We started in the Plaque Room on the first floor. The centerpiece, of course, are the plaques of the first class of inductees in 1936 -- Ty Cobb; Honus Wagner; Babe Ruth; Christy Mathewson; and Walter Johnson. What you might not know is that Cobb received the most votes and Wagner the second most that year. The plaques are placed around the room in the order of the induction year grouped in five-year periods. I spent most of the time reading about the players that I grew up idolizing – Mays; Aaron; Clemente; Banks; Koufax; Gibson; and Marichal, just to name a few. In one corner the plaques of Johnny Bench and Joe Morgan were placed side by side. I proudly took a photo there. This summer baseball will add three more players to the Plaque Room, Carlos Beltran, Andruw Jones, and Jeff Kent.

At the Museum entrance you could get a scorecard of your favorite teams and players and where they are referenced in the HOF. I chose the Cubs and Reds, of course, and marveled at how up to date the Museum was with exhibits mentioning Shota Imanaga and Elly de la Cruz. My favorite spot at the Museum was clearly the trip through baseball history on the second floor, called “The Game”. I experienced the joy again of a journey through baseball’s early history and all of the decades since. I basically lost track of time exploring the Dodgers and Cardinals NL teams in the 1960s, Oakland and Cincinnati dominance in the 1970s, Whiteyball in the 1980s, and on and on. I relived my baseball life, and it brought tears of joy.

After the Museum closed at 5:00 p.m., it was time for the annual baseball game in the adjacent park. I was prepared for my first game in twenty years, wearing a 1914 Chicago Federals jersey, 1915 Chicago Whales baseball cap, and knickers. There were about 40 players participating, and we counted off by two’s to choose sides. Our umpire, Peter Young, wore a top hat as he explained that we would be playing “The Rules of the Massachusetts Game, Town Ball, as of May 13, 1858”. At that time in New England, teams had not yet adopted the Knickerbocker Rules of New York. Every inning, called a hand, was marked by a single out. To get an out, a fielder had to catch the ball on a fly or throw the ball at and hit the baserunner before the runner reached one of the sticks (bases). A batter could not strike out. I pitched one inning with no “tallies” scored and had three hits in my three plate appearances. The game only ends when one side has 100 tallies! We called the game with my team leading 18-10. Everyone had a blast. One of my teammates saw me on Main Street the next day passing by and said “great game”.

That night we assembled for the annual dinner, a night of great food, laughter, and sharing of stories. The dinner was held in the Plaque Room which I found almost sacrilegious. We were gathering in the most sacred place in baseball. I had an overwhelming feeling of happiness knowing that I was with people who share the same passion and love as I do. My people! At the conclusion of dinner, we sang all five verses of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” and were entertained by a longtime Symposium attendee with his version of “Casey at the Bat”.

Before I left for Cooperstown, I had friends tell me that “you are going to be like a kid in a candy store” and “this will be right in your wheelhouse”. It was all of that and more. I felt like a 14-year old boy again, if not just for a day. To steal a question from a famous baseball movie, “is this Heaven?” No, it’s Cooperstown!

I’ll be back in two weeks!

Until June 15,

your Baseball Bench Coach