My Fathers Day post two years ago, Lessons From My Dad, may be one of the favorite things I’ve written here.

One thing that my dad instilled in me was a love of baseball. In particular, the Philadelphia Phillies. While baseball may not be as consequential as some of the other things I learned from dad, it is wrapped up in many of the memories I have of him.

Dad graduated from High School in 1951 and died in 1970. He may have attended games at the Baker Bowl in Philadelphia, I don’t know. Veterans Stadium wouldn’t be occupied until a few years after his death. But, I do know that he took me to at least one game every season at Connie Mack Stadium. It was always the highlight of my summer. We would park somewhere along the Philadelphia neighborhood streets (there were no parking lots associated with Connie Mack) and walk, usually many blocks, to the stadium. The ticket windows and entrance gates were just a short distance from the sidewalk. I remember the crowd of fans that lined those sidewalks waiting to get in.

Our seats were always in the same area – upper deck, first base side. Connie Mack was state of the art when it was built, but had one feature that could be irritating. Big structural supports could severely block your view if you happened to get seats behind them. I can only remember one game where that was really a problem. The view in the photo is pretty close to the one I remember. Advertising lined the outfield wall, and a huge Ballentine Beer sign seemed to be every bit as large as the scoreboard.

A hot dog was on the menu of course. I also remember orange drink in a milk carton like box and popcorn. What made the popcorn so memorable was the container. It was truly multi-functional. In addition to holding the popcorn it was designed so that you could rip out the bottom after you were done with the contents and use it as a megaphone. They also printed a spot for you to write in the line score.

Dad taught me how to keep score at those games. When I was older I got my own program (which came with a pencil) and was introduced to the system of lines and numbers that have been passed on from generation to generation. Everyone seems to have a slightly different system. I still use the one that dad taught me in the 60’s.

The 60’s were not the easiest time to be a Phillies fan. Aside from some dismal seasons late in the decade, there was 1964. That’s a year that lives in fan infamy. 6-1/2 games out in front with 12 games to go, the Phillies “accomplished” one of the worst collapses in sports history. It took a win on the last day of the season to salvage a tie for second. Mention ‘64 (or worse yet Gene Mauch) to a fan who lived through that and you’re going to get a shake of the head and a sigh of resignation (or a navy yard worthy cussing at the mention of Mauch).

Even in that I learned a lesson or two. One was about loyalty. Dad was always a Phillies fan. It was never only about winning and losing. Sometimes you just cheered for your team because they were your team. Another lesson was things don’t always turn out the way you’d like. And that’s ok. You keep on.

Happy Fathers Day to all the dads out there.

John C. “Jack” Lynch
1933-1970