The Summer Reading List

I visited a school in early June where the Summer Reading List had just been announced.

There were posters about reading in the main hall – yes, yes, Harry Potter, of course - and an all-school assembly one afternoon. The assembly was blessedly brief with a group of 6-8th grade students reading excerpts from their favorite books. Two class teachers and the librarian did a power-point presentation with a dozen recommended titles per grade level for this summer. Students now have to read five books before school recommences in September. Everyone went away feeling excited about their summer reading challenge.

This ritual made me feel good. Here we are in the tech-heavy 21st century and teachers are still coming up with a reading list for summer vacation.

When I was a boy, I remember my mother walking me to our local library where Mrs. Emily Bertchey (truly all librarians were named Emily at one time) issued me with my lending card - #54 if I remember correctly. The library card was the first official document I possessed. I placed it on my bedside table for safe keeping.

I grew up in a small town outside of Boston and the library then was just a room above the nascent police department (one car, two patrolmen) and next to the town office which was open on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings from 9 – noon. It was sleepy place to be sure.

Still there was reading to be done on those hot summer New England days and I remember loving John Knowles’ A Separate Peace but struggling with C S Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters. JD Salinger’s Franny and Zooey was a disappointment after The Catcher in the Rye. Morris L. West’s The Shoes of the Fisherman would have been my 12 year old's attempt to read an adult novel. Although we had read Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird in school, our teacher said it had ‘many levels’ and I read it again in the summer.

Mrs. Bertchey’s library smelled musty and was crowded with big, oak tables, some stuffy chairs and an ancient filing cabinet but it was a place of sheer adventure and delight for me. There was a single, large fan above the circulation desk and it felt nice just to stand there watching her officiously stamp the due date on my card.

Ah, the Summer Reading List.

A good walk spoiled ~ very spoiled

If you’ve ever tried to play the maddening game of golf, you’ll agree with American humorist Mark Twain who described it as a good walk spoiled.

Anyone watching the final round of yesterday’s Open Championship – the British Open for those who need a geographical connection – would say it was a good walk ruined.

A walk absolutely and completely ruined by the unrelenting golf gods who punish the slightest mistake.

Of course, you need to know some details. The leader for most of the event (4 rounds) was Tom Watson – just a few weeks shy of his 60th birthday. Now you don’t need to be a golf nut to know that 59 year olds win few tournaments – let alone those played on the harsh and challenging “links” courses of the British Isles.

The fact that Watson was in contention for all four days was nothing short of a miracle. The tournament had all the best players (except Tiger Woods who inexplicably missed the cut), the course at Turnberry, Scotland was windy and cool and there’s the pressure of winning golf’s oldest and most prestigious trophy: the Claret Jug. Indeed, this was High Drama along the Firth of Clyde.

Alas, Tom Watson made his one and only mistake on the final hole. It was a case of defeat snatched from the jaws of victory. The TV commentators, old golfers turned reporters, had difficulty articulating the promise of the moment. Put simply victory for Watson would have been one of the greatest sporting feats of our era – say I.

Here is what the Associated Press wrote this morning:

What won’t be forgotten is the way a 59 year old man nearly delivered a win so monumental it was hard to compare it to anything else that came before. This type of thing simply can’t happen in most other sports, and had never happened before in golf either.

A very good walk spoiled - very spoiled.

The All-Star Break

America is getting ready this weekend for the All-Star break. More specifically, American baseball fans are getting ready for the All-Star break.

This annual event pitches the best players from the American League vs. the best players from the National League in a single game. There are about twenty-five “stars” on each side. The rest of the players and all the teams (30 exactly) get three days off. In addition to the game, there is a must-watch home run derby contest, the Fan Fest, fireworks, concerts and other hoop-la.

The All-Star break is also the psychological mid-way point of summer. About six weeks gone – about six weeks more to enjoy.

In addition to bragging rights, the winning side gets the benefit of home-field advantage in the championship World Series match in October (hosting the first two games at one's own ballpark and playing no more than three games on the road, out of a possible seven). This idea was started a few years ago and the practice has since been extended indefinitely.

The All-Star Game, made its debut in July 1933, at Chicago's Comiskey Park. In 2008 the game was played at Yankee Stadium in New York – the last season before the great stadium was demolished for a new one. This year’s game is in St. Louis with its famous arch overlooking the Mississippi River – a quintessential American setting.

I saw this on the internet the other day: the average ticket to the All-Star game July 14 is $679, down from $1,460 last year when the game was played in New York, according to RazorGator.com, a ticket market site.

That’s an interesting statistic because it means that the ticket price this year is about 53% less than last year – or about the same percentage as the decrease in the stock market and the value of homes. Still - $679 ain’t cheap.

I’m staying home to watch the All-Star game on TV. To celebrate the spirit of baseball, I'm reading The Summer of ’49 by David Halberstam – his account of the great Boston Red Sox – New York Yankee summer campaign of 60 years ago. The book is from the library – free.

Chill the beer, fire up the grill, take an All-Star break.