Cooperstown, N.Y. – July 31, 2008

National Baseball Hall of Fame

Photos

The longest day of the trip, but in many ways the most special – we were headed for Cooperstown and the Baseball Hall of Fame. Since we had plenty of bus time, Stevette brought along a collection of baseball movies. The morning’s selection: Fever Pitch. I watched it, and didn’t hate it (especially since the 2004 World Series was basically a footnote at the end). The best moment, though, was the scene where “Sweet Caroline” was played at Fenway in the movie – everyone on the bus sang along.

The bus had a tough trip to Cooperstown, chugging along very slowly up all the hills. While it gave us a great opportunity for an extended look at the beautiful scenery, it was a little worrisome and caused us to arrive about an hour late. But John our driver had everything taken care of during the day – the bus needed a new fuel pump.

Cooperstown is a lovely little town. Main Street is filled with all kinds of shops, many (not surprisingly) baseball-related, along with some restaurants. Lots of people everywhere. It took a while to get lunch but, finally, we made it to the Hall of Fame.

Our first stop was the Grandstand Theater, to see a movie called “The Baseball Experience.” The theater itself had ballpark-style seats. The movie was an appropriately sentimental overview of baseball and its history. The quotes from Roger Angell (a baseball writer who wrote the book I was reading on the bus) moved me to tears. Oh well, it was only the first time that day.

We split up to tour the Hall of Fame, so we could each take our time at what we wanted to see. I started on the third (top) floor, in a section called Sacred Ground that covered a fan’s experience at the ballpark. There were displays of different kinds of memorabilia from stadiums (I took photos of several) plus a section on concessions and even music played at games. That included a recording of Harry Caray singing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame,” which was a delight to hear (and almost made me cry again). Another section had recordings of songs that are known for being played at certain stadiums. Yes, of course, Boston was there, as was “Thank God I’m a Country Boy,” played at Camden Yards (which we heard when there).

In the next area, there was a full-wall display of small portraits and baseballs from all pitchers who have thrown no-hitters and perfect games. Very cool to see the signed ball from Bud Smith, whose no-hitter for the Cardinals was on Labor Day 2001. It was right next to one from Randy Johnson’s perfect game in 2004. (The display was in order vertically, which is how they were next to each other.) Beyond that area was one on the post-season, which had different artifacts on display. A large case in the center of the room contained World Series rings from each year. Of course they’ve evolved over the years, getting bigger and more elaborate. Everyone standing at the case – no one I knew – commented on the gaudiness of the Marlins 2003 ring, far bigger than any others and tacky looking in its ostentation. The rings that have followed – the Red Sox two, White Sox, Cardinals – all are classy looking. (So at least Josh Beckett has a nicer one from last year to go along with his Marlins ring. Because I’m sure he wears them all the time!) I tried to take photos, but the glare from the case was too much.

Another memorable area on this floor played the original Abbott and Costello “Who’s on First” routine. Classic, and it had the big crowd standing there watching laughing hysterically. (Here’s a link to it – the magic of YouTube!) There also was the George Carlin bit comparing baseball and football. I’d read about it recently, when Carlin died, but it’s much funnier to hear him deliver it. (Find that here.)

Down to the second floor, where I ended up spending the most time. The history of baseball is brought to life here, through a variety of artifacts like uniforms and equipment and photos. It starts back in the 1800s and moves along to today. Uniforms and equipment have changed tremendously through the years, not surprisingly. But it was the items from specific players that were the best part of this section. Seeing plaques and monuments honoring Babe Ruth in New York and Boston was one thing; seeing his locker and his actual uniform was amazing. The displays are chronological, finishing with an area called Today’s Game that has cases filled with items from each team. I enjoyed that a lot too, just seeing what was represented.

On the first level was the gallery with the Hall of Fame plaques for all the inductees, in chronological order for the year of induction. It was by far the most crowded area, since it’s the essence of the Hall of Fame’s existence. Such a history lesson too, reading about the tremendous accomplishments of so many – almost more unfamiliar to me than known – throughout the game’s history.

Beyond this, and away from the crowd, was a section that honored broadcasters and writers. There also was a little gallery called Baseball at the Movies that had walls lined with posters, photos and a list of all the baseball movies through the years. Clips of movies also were shown, and I managed to catch those of my two favorite baseball movies: Bull Durham and Field of Dreams. Seeing the clip of the latter, being surrounded by so much baseball history and such a love for the game, had me ready to cry yet again.

As I walked back through the plaque gallery, I saw a Field of Dreams moment come to life. There were some fathers and sons on our tour, on the other bus. One group had two teenagers, though I was never sure if the boys were brothers or friends. The youngest (around 13) was embracing his father in the middle of the gallery and saying something into his ear. Having just seen the movie clip, this made my eyes fill with tears. The older boy then spoke to the younger, with the result being the younger punching him on the arm. Relationship now established: brothers. Later, as everyone from our bus was gathering on the sidewalk outside the Hall of Fame, I saw the mother and 18-year-old daughter from our group. The daughter said something to the mother and they hugged for a long time as well.

It turns out I wasn’t the only one moved to tears that day. The following night, as everyone on the bus shared memories from the trip via the passed-around microphone, a man who’s a baseball coach in North Carolina said he was glad he didn’t run into any of us at the Hall of Fame, because we would have seen him crying.

I know I’m a hopeless romantic when it comes to baseball – more Field of Dreams than Bull Durham, or the opposite of what Bob Costas calls himself in his book Fair Ball. But it’s the history, the sharing of baseball through generations and through friendships that means the most to me. That’s what made visiting the Hall of Fame so special – an entire museum, and much of a town, devoted just to this. I can’t wait to go back.