LFS: The Storyteller

--> ©2015 by LeeZard On The Hill, St. Louis, MO, August 2013. She is sitting and reading a book. I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t an attractive young woman in shorts and a college sweatshirt lounging on Yogi Berra’s front porch. I glance down and the bronze plaque embedded in the sidewalk tells me I’m at the correct address. “Excuse me,” I call, “I’m sure you hear this a million times but I’m still another tourist and Yogi Berra fan. Can I take a picture?” As a youth, Yogi Berra lived here for 18-years She smiles brightly, “Sure, go ahead.” I snap away but I’m not  done yet. I take a few steps up the short walk, “Listen, I’m sorry to bother you but I’m driving cross country and writing a book on my travels. Can I interview you?” She marks her place in the book and throws me another killer bright smile, even friendlier than the first, “Sure but I only have a few minutes.” I cannot believe my luck. She introduces herself as Courtney Brown an...

--> ©1992 by LeeZard "Mickey wasn't known as a baseball player when he was growin' up here." It was a quiet Sunday afternoon in the cramped storefront office that serves as the Commerce, Oklahoma, Police Department. The sergeant on duty was a precious link to my boyhood hero's past.  "Mick was really a great football player in junior high school." Mickey Mantle's boyhood home in Commerce, OK I had driven to this small, dusty town in the northeast corner of Oklahoma to just experience the place where Mickey Mantle grew up. I don't know what I expected to find, but I was quite surprised at what I didn't find. The only business open on this lazy winter church-going Sunday was the 7-11. I was looking for anything that proclaimed this as, "Commerce, Oklahoma: Boyhood Home of Mickey Mantle!" To my shock, dismay and disappointment I could find no such treasure. In fact, except for the name ...

©2007 by LeeZard Here’s my theory on youth sports: * Coaches, referees, umpires and league officials: paid professionals. * Parents: barred from all practices and games. * Games and practices: videotaped. * Videotapes: sent home for private viewing. It started with my son in Little League. The parents running our local Little League had been around for eons and ran it like a private club. They favored their own kids and their own friends. The fields and the equipment were in disrepair. Many of the coaches were untrained, screaming negative demeaning commands to the kids. The same 10 or 12 people showed up at the annual meeting each year to elect officers. It finally took a massive phone campaign and countless hours of political maneuvering to draw almost 100 people to an annual meeting to throw the rascals out. After my kids outgrew little league I joined the local umpires association. Standing behind home plate is the best seat in the house. I umpired everything f...

Copyright 2007 by LeeZard I know I'm not the first writer to be inspired by a visit to Boston's fabled Fenway Park, but I must tell you about my recent pilgrimage to that ancient ballyard. Even I was surprised at my emotional response. I grew up in New York City. Yankee Stadium, with its huge crowds and vast outfield, was where I learned to love the game. For some reason though, I never had the opportunity to visit Beantown so I used the excuse of a recent business convention in Boston to visit Fenway. It didn't matter that I've always hated the Red Sox; as a baseball fan, I've always respected their great players. And, I wanted to see the stadium before its renovation. Even though the team was on the road, I was told if you're lucky, you can talk the security guard at the service gate into letting you in for a peek. It would have been nice to see a game, but I wanted to see Fenway--to worship at the shrine of that storied leftfield wall, "The Green Monster...