“Hello again, everybody.”
Those three words, while probably not as often said as, “I’ll have another,” were always on the tip of Harry Caray tongue. A week after what would have been the amazing broadcaster’s 99th birthday, I wanted to lead this edition of Ramblings with a shout-out to the man that made me fall in love with baseball.
(Editor’s note: this is by TSB sometimes writer Brian McCabe, who’s just too important to do his own posts anymore. He can’t be bothered with WordPress anymore, so if I have to do it)
When I was somewhere in the age range of 8-10, my parents had friends over for a big barbecue. The next morning I thought I would help out and clean up the beer tubs and other garbage. (I was most likely I was told to do this.) While performing my chore, I dropped an unopened can of Budweiser on the deck and it sprung a small leak.
I am young … I am scared … I have no idea what to do. I quickly bring the can towards my face and use my mouth to cover the hole.