Saturday mornings I suited up for the weekly little league game, walked the few blocks over to my grade school, and piled into the coach’s station wagon with the rest of the team for a trip to one of the half-grassy fields in Brooklyn. I wasn’t that much of a ballplayer – ground balls always took bad hops so my accuracy at smacking it into the first baseman’s glove didn’t count for much. But I was bat crazy – give me one low and outside and I could bust the third floor window of the apartment building on the other side of the lot.

The afternoons were all about hot dogs and cokes, and if we had the extra quarter, a tray of french fries on the side. Benny’s Deli kept a stack of comics on the radiator, so we would sit in the back at an oversized table, spreading out pages of Superman, Green Lantern, Fantastic Four and Aquaman…or the lightweights like Richie Rich and Archie. Sometimes a Classic Illustrated would sneak in…but only if we’d already read everything else.

Maybe a quick washup and then to the schoolyard for a pickup game of fungo or maybe me and Charlie just whipping a hardball at each other as hard and fast as we could. Or scream out a high fly pop, the ball floating up and lingering lazy, until it came down with a thready whiz and final bang into a worn out leather glove.

Then back home late afternoon, Captain America and Flash waiting in the unread pile by the sofa, magic swords and lariats, saving the world one small story at a time.

Hardball and comic books. Frankly, I think I did it all just for the uniform…

It’s Saturday…what are you reading this weekend?

 

Illustration by
Gluyas Williams

[h/t to David Kanigan for the lead in to the image….]

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