A Man's Leather

 a man's leather

                                       First and last: Billy Martin on left...1986 version right

    A conversation with a Mister Brian, formerly of Maywood reminded me of a ritual we shared growing up and even growing old. As fans of the great game of baseball we all tried to play and observe the holy rites of the national pastime involving equipment. Unlike the other big three sports, baseball had one aspect that was intimate to the individual and required a bond like no other sport. Football fans did not cherish their football or basketballers make a roundball important. Yet, in baseball each boy had his glove and this was a precious possession that had to be molded into perfection by a process passed on from father to son or brother to brother. Lots of boys just used hand-me-down gloves or ancient things passed down from another time. I knew kids who still used three-fingered mitts from the 40's and the first glove I ever put on my hand was a Hank Sauer who was a Chicago Cub left-fielder and slugger who made the all-star team twice in a good career that included 268 homers. He actually was the National League MVP in 1952 that would explain the creation of a Hank Sauer glove that appeard around my house in maybe 1956. I did not play with that glove but was given a new Billy Martin infielders glove that I used in 1957-1959. When you got a new glove there was an age-old process of dousing it in neetsfoot oil, placing a ball in the pocket and wrapping it tightly with rubber bands. The glove was left to marinate overnight. Then it would be best to play catch with the new leather as much as possible. Eventually it became like a part of you, a good friend you carted around and kept close especially during the Summer months. Sometimes we played over-the-line with just two gloves, sharing with other kids like the Knowltons. I used a Wilson Billy Martin Ball Hawk  my first year, then became a catcher with a Jim Hegan and Yogi Berra mitt for two years. Later I was lucky enough to have a Spalding Rocky Colavito that was perfect and I used it playing my one season at shortstop in La Habra. My life was made challenging when my well-meaning but misguided father got me a mixed bag of equipment he undoubtedly bought in a bargain sale out of a guy's trunk. He gave me on consecutive Xmas' just wrong baseball gloves. One was an Everlast that made famous boxing trunks but lousy baseball gloves and when I was coming off an all-star year as a 12 year old a stiff as a board first baseman's glove. In the try-outs in La Habra I could not catch anything with this un-oiled clunker and was not invited to participate. Greg felt the same reverence for the leather and bathed his fielders glove in the oil, wrapped it with ball in pocket over-night and then just sat and smacked the ball into the pocket over and over and over until the sweet spot became supple and inviting to baseballs. If nothing else he was a sure-handed fly-catcher. He loaned the glove to the Bobcat for softball in the later 1970'S in a show of true friendship and the Cat described it as totally bitchen.I guarantee that the same leather is sitting somewhere in attic or garage where it has gathered dust for forty plus years.