Tunes From My Era Rock the Park

Consider for a moment some song titles and the artists who produced them. That’s Amore, by Dean Martin. I’ve Got the World on a String, sung by Frank Sinatra. Crazy Man Crazy, performed by Bill Haley and the Comets. Should I continue? Okay, I will. Don’t Let the Stars Get in Your Eyes, by Perry Como. Pretend, shared by Nat King Cole. And Going to the River, from Fats Domino. What do they all have in common? They were top hits in the year 1953, ten years before I was born. But they also have this in common- I’ve never heard them played at a baseball game, at least not since I started coaching twenty-three years ago. I point this out simply to remind anyone who will listen that the music of my generation is the bestest of all time. It’s not that other eras weren’t good, it’s just that the music I went to high school and college with reigns supreme. As a coach, I arrive for pre-game batting practice two hours before a baseball game begins. And normally the music is blaring over the loudspeakers from the moment my team arrives. And guess what they’re playing? That’s right- the songs from my teen and college years. It’s so obvious sometimes it’s distracting. The players have long since grown tired of me quickly naming the title, artist, and year of the song’s release. Classics such as Jump (Van Halen), Freeze Frame (J. Giels Band), Two Tickets to Paradise (Eddie Money), Don’t Stop Believing (Journey), Photograph (Def Leopard), Crazy Train (Ozzy Osbourne), More Than a Feeling (Boston), Come Sail Away (Styx), and Summer of 69 (Bryan Adams) are merely a few that I’ve heard even in the last month. The pre-game music often takes me back to a time and place I can remember as though it were yesterday. And then it hits me, the memories elicited by the song happened thirty years ago or more in some cases. And suddenly I don’t feel so young anymore while I’m throwing batting practice, especially when my arm wiggles more loosely in my shoulder socket with every pitch. The players like to take jabs at me about my age sometimes. When I tell them that a particular song was from the summer of 1980 when I was in high school, they will remind me that 1980 was ten years before they were born. Of course, I’m rarely one to be at a loss for words, so I remind them that 1953 was ten years before I was born. And none of the songs from 1953 ever get hummed or sung by cool kids and ballpark patrons. Proof that the songs of my day are more popular than ever. And I believe they will stand the test of time. My players seem to like my songs better than those of their own era, which is a source of pride for me. Recently one of my players and I sat on the bench during pre-game and sang the words to Hold on Loosely while watching the other team finish batting practice. “.38 Special, 1981,” chirped a proud old coach. And as we sang together- even though 1981 was 29 years ago- for a moment me and my holding on loosely sore arm didn’t feel so old anymore.