Allan's Alley

When baseball was a game…

The elaborate play-off systems in professional sports these days have one purpose – to stretch the season well beyond its sell-by date in order to keep producing more revenue. As a result, the teams that play for the championship aren’t necessarily the ones with the best records – see “Red Sox, Boston” -- but simply the ones that got lucky when it counted.

Back in the days of my youth, they did it more sensibly. In baseball, for instance, the National League team with the best record met the American League team with the most wins in the World Series. Period. Both clubs went right from their last regular-season game into the Series.

Of course, one of my two home teams – the Phabulous Phillies – found out in 1950 that just because you owned the best record in the NL didn’t mean you belonged on the same field with the Yankees. I wasn’t too upset by the outcome, however, because in those days my heart belonged to Connie Mack’s Athletics, and they were in no danger of losing a World Series – they couldn’t get within a mile of one. It seems to me, however, that when dad and I went out to see them play DiMaggio & Company, the A’s more than held their own.

Like most other things, major league baseball was a vastly different animal in the early 50s than it is today. For starters, there were only 16 clubs – eight in each league, with no divisions. The Braves lived in Boston, the Dodgers in Brooklyn and the Giants in New York. Over in the AL, the A’s journey to Oakland hadn’t begun, the Washington Senators had not yet evolved into the Twins, and the St. Louis Browns were only beginning to pack for their move to Baltimore.

What was most different about the game in the 40s and 50s was the players. Those guys were actually mortals; most had to get real jobs in October to help make ends meet. During the season, they usually rode on subway and street cars to the ball park like everyone else, discussing the finer points of the game with -- and sometimes even taking the advice of -- the fans. Agents? Forget it.

If you want to know what baseball was like when I was a boy, buy, rent or borrow the video series named “When It Was a Game.” In home movies shot by fans and teammates – not pros -- you’ll see the great players of the era warming up before games, making faces at the camera, cracking jokes with their buddies and otherwise having a great time. As the title suggests, these were young, free-spirited guys and grizzled old vets being paid peanuts to play the game they learned on streets, sandlots and farm fields.

They played for the love of the game, not the love of the money. Earning a living was something to worry about when your legs gave out.

--Allan