Peanut Butter Sandwich

Everyone who knows me knows I don't like peanut butter. But I wasn't always that way. An old classmate from my Jacksonwald Elementary School days (Madeline Maize) recently reminded me of an experience I'd like to share here.

Our second grade teacher, Miss Stump, decided one day to take us outside to read under a tree on the playground. I was forced to stay behind, however, after getting caught reading a book under my desktop during class (a chronic habit if I recall). Anyway, upon their return to the classroom I was nowhere to be found. Miss Stump asked Mrs. Borneman (a very scary lady) to sit with the class while she walked over to my house. Miss Stump found me at home, alone, eating a peanut butter sandwich in the kitchen. Madeline said she remembers the experience because she thought it was "the bravest, coolest thing a kid could do." I was just hungry!

Thank you, Madeline, for a delightful trip down memory lane.

My Many Rides

They say a person's car tells a lot about him. For most of my life mine has said "cheap". My philosophy has always been a car is simply a way to get from point "A" to point "B". I will confess, however, that my pursuit of some rides was motivated by an absolute love for (and need to have) that particular vehicle (or "machine" as Nanny Tobias liked to call them). But the simple fact is that most of my cars were cheap and built to stay that way (until it came time for repairs). Here's the list:

1. 1966 Ford Mustang (with a vinyl roof) - My high school car. Acquired from my dad. True, the vinyl top was almost all torn off. And both rear quarter panels were rotted through. But my gosh, it was a Mustang!

2. 1967 Chevy Impala SS - Bought it from stepfather Elmer, who had painted it bright blue with a paintbrush. Four-door with a 396 under the hood. Sadly, I blew that engine going 95 down Route 30 just west of Columbia, PA. But that's another story.

3. 1972 Chevy Vega - Like I said, cheap. I didn't spend much for it and it got me around. That is, until oil started showing up in the radiator.

4. 1973 Chevy Nova - Now that was an awesome car! A three speed on the floor with a Hurst shifter, 350 under the hood, hijacker in the back, and a racing strip down the middle. Left it behind to serve my Mormon mission to Japan. Mike tells me he and a friend (Dave Dragan) repainted it while I was gone. And it had a bad carb. Mom ended up selling it to one of her brothers who promptly wrapped it around a tree. He survived, but the car didn't.

5. 1967 Oldsmobile Delta 88 - Bought it for $200 to drive from New Jersey to Utah after getting married. The simple purpose was to transport the few belongings we had to our new apartment at BYU.

6. 1974 Ford Pinto Wagon - Pale green with wood paneling on the side. Didn't have it long before the timing belt went out.

7. 1974 Plymouth Fury III - Didn't own it long. Never even drove it. Had serious problems under the hood. Not even sure why I owned it besides the fact that someone gave it to us.

8. 1975 AMC Pacer - Our yellow pregnant roller skate. I always liked these cars. Looked funny, but gave us plenty of room when we needed it as our family size began to grow.

9. 1976 Chevy Truck - The only truck I've ever owned. We succeeded in packing virtually everything we owned into this baby (it took 3 days to do it!) after graduating from BYU. It lasted a while after crossing the country to Pennsylvania.

10. 1982 VW Dasher - The only diesel we've ever owned. Didn't have a lot of power, but fuel economy was great. Knocked out of commission after hitting a deer on Route 73 (near Oley, PA) and splitting the front of the engine. It was an 8-point buck.

11. 1984 Ford Escort - A good sensible family car. One of my worst car repair memories is associated with this one. Changed an aluminum head (with the help of Uncle Skip) in the middle of winter. Brrrrrr!

12. 1967 Dodge Dart - Needed something to drive after the Escort died, so we got this from a family member. Not much to look at, but got us where we needed to go. Had to retire it after it wouldn't pass inspection after being rear-ended at a stop light on Route 222 (east of Reading).

1973 Ford Maverick - Took the place of the Dart. Mom's friend, Red, was kind enough to give us this hand-painted, blue 4-door (what is it with hand-painted cars???). Eventually died a peaceful death after months of service.

1984 Dodge Caravan - Our first van! Bought this from sister Melody and got 165,000 miles out of it. I'll never forget what happened after spending a whole Saturday changing the timing belt at a friend's house. I did my best to set the timing, but I guess it wasn't good enough. After driving about a quarter-mile from his house late that night the van backfired so violently that the muffler blew apart with a gigantic bang. Owned this van when we moved to West Virginia.

1986 Isuzu Trooper - Eileen's favorite car; she loved this thing. Nice to have four-wheel drive in the winter. Drove it many, many miles.

1987 Honda Accord Hatchback- I really liked this car. Unfortunately, we only owned it a couple of years. A big bang and investigation one day while I was working at WJAL-TV revealed the back end of my beloved Accord smashed flat by a tractor trailer cab. It appears the driver lost control on the road outside the station, went airborne into the parking lot, and landed on my car. This was my first experience dealing with unscrupulous insurance companies.

1992 Honda Accord - Bought this four-door with the insurance money from the other Accord's demise. Nice, reliable car.

1999 Daewoo Lanos - First brand-new car I ever owned. Mmmmm, that new car smell!

2000 Daewoo Leganza - Traded in the Lanos for my second brand-new car.

1991 Toyota Supra - The first sign of a mid-life crisis. I really enjoyed this car and eventually sold it to a gentleman who fixed it up real nice.

1999 Honda CRV - Traded in the Leganza for a more reliable ride. This car has served us very, very well. Survived driver training for all three daughters. Over 235,000 miles and still going strong as of June, 2010.

1998 Mazda 626 - Bought it from co-worker Eric Pritchett, who I knew was meticulous and very careful with his car. He kept every service record including the window sticker from when he bought it new. Had over 170,000 miles when I got it and 206,000 miles when Meghan wrecked it trying to avoid two raccoons in the road in Kentucky.

2005 Kia Sedona - Our third brand-new one and, at $22,000, the most I've ever paid for a car. Used primarily by Eileen and for long trips.

1995 Mazda Miata - My mid-life crisis. I've always like Miatas and was determined to eventually own one. Bought it for $3,800 on ebay, although I never thought I'd do anything like that. Had 73,000 miles on it when shipped from Florida. Terrific little convertible!

My Grandparents

Tracing my family history has given me a deep appreciation for ancestors. Never mind the obvious fact that I wouldn't be here without them; getting to know them has taught me a lot about myself. I've found pictures that tell me some of why I look the way I do. I've learned of ancestors who were kidnapped by Indians in 1755, a discovery that dispelled the long-held belief by some in the family that we have Indian blood in us. Well, Uncle Jerry still lives on a reservation, but that's another story. Now, as often happens the divorce of my parents resulted in a net increase in grandparents, so I shall endeavor to introduce all six of these lovely people here.

My father's parents were Samuel Benjamin Tobias (October 28, 1894 - October 16, 1952) and Barbara Ruth Deeds (August 13, 1907 - April 8, 1989). Sam was the son of George Milton Tobias and Margaret Matilda Hetrich. I never knew him - he died when dad was 17. It's my understanding that at some point in his teens Sam ran away from home and rode freight trains, eventually winding up in Aberdeen, South Dakota. Later his brother, Art, was sent out to make sure he didn't become a bum. He succeeded in becoming a mechanic by trade. It was in Aberdeen that Sam met and married his first wife, Alice Lee Monroe. They had two children together. Eventually, Sam decided to return to Pennsylvania. His plan was to leave his wife in South Dakota for good, but she and the kids followed him. They ended up getting divorced in PA. After a period of time he met Barbara and married her (he was considerably older than her). Dad's older sister, Ruth, was actually born a year before they married.

Sadly, Sam and Barbara were legally separately as long as dad can remember. They never did get divorced. When they were together they lived at 1253 Cotton Street in Reading. Dad remembers that his father made delicious tapioca pudding. At some point Barbara and the kids moved in with her mother at 651 S. 17-1/2 Street. On a side note, dad tells how his sister, Ruth, and their grandmother (Anna Leib) argued all the time. In fact, one time Anna fell and blamed Ruth for pushing her. Ruth swore that she did not. Unfortunately, Anna's hip was broken and she died shortly thereafter. I wonder how Ruth feels today about that...

Sam decided again to leave his family, packing up and moving to Hawaii in 1943. Dad remembers receiving some Hawaiian shirts from him one year. It meant so much to him that dad wore them all the time. Sam would send money home from time to time (probably out of guilt), along with photographs of his adventures (photography was his hobby). Dad has pictures of his father riding his Harley-Davidson motorcycle there. Sam found a job as a mechanic working on aircraft engines at Pearl Harbor, but he soon found it monotonous and grew to dislike it. So, he pulled up stakes once more and moved to Oceanside, California, where he became a truck mechanic at the marine base at Camp Pendleton. That's where he eventually died. He only ever returned to PA once - in 1951 for Art's funeral. Dad inherited the Harley, the only memento of a father that could have been.

Dad's mother, Barbara, was the daughter of Henry Jacob Deeds and Anna Leib (married in 1901). She grew up in tough times in a family that had very little as far as material things were concerned. Her first 5 years were spent with her parents and her grandparents on her mother's side in Fairview Township, York County, Pennsylvania. She had a sister named Elizabeth who, at age 3 in 1906, ate a poisonous plant called night shade and died. Barbara (or "Nanny" as I knew her) was born almost 11 months after Elizabeth's death. After her grandfather died in 1912 they moved to Berks County. My brother, Mike, has photos of huge family gatherings, so she must have spent a lot of time with family. Nanny knew Sam's brother, Ralph, who was a projectionist at the Bernville movie theater. It was Ralph who introduced the two. At the time, Nanny was dating a guy who planned on becoming a doctor, but Sam upset that apple cart. Believe it or not, she didn't learn how old Sam was until after they were married. Dad says it's because the Tobias side always looked younger. According to dad, Nanny always regretted not marrying the doctor. Dad says Nanny had a good knowledge of medicine and health. In fact, she worked in a doctor's office at one time.

Nanny didn't go to church, but she was a religious, moral person. Once while shopping she discovered a toy car in dad's hand when they left the store. She asked where he got that and ordered him to take it back. Dad says she was very loving and kind. Raising three kids by herself was very difficult. She would buy presents at Christmas even though she couldn't afford it because she felt sorry for the kids. As a result she was always in debt, something that caused great strain. She cried about it often.

Nanny was my godmother. She always gave us birthday cards, but mine was the only one with money in it. I remember how she kept her hair in a bun, unraveling it occasionally to reveal a beautiful blonde streak as she brushed it. She always called the car "the machine". When she blessed the food at mealtime she would say, "God is great. God is good. We thank thee God for all this food. Amen." Only, when she said "food" the "oo" sounded more like in the word "good". One thing about Nanny is she was a hoarder; the house was always full of stuff. It wasn't so bad you couldn't get around, but there were pathways to get through the house. Nanny was a great cook, too, although dad says it wasn't always that way. She was also suspicious of neighbors, something she evidently got from her parents. For years she lived in a bungalow by herself; dad says she was a person who kept to herself.

I loved Nanny very much. She gave great hugs and had a warm smile. I remember when the call came about Nanny's heart attack. We hoped and prayed she would pull through, but it wasn't meant to be. She held on, in a coma, until dad whispered in her ear that it was okay to go. Then, surrounded by loved ones, she slipped away into the eternities. One of the last things dad remembers her saying was to tell everybody she loves them. The nurses in the hospital said she was a very nice person.

Mom's mother, Estella May Conrad (October 22, 1915 - September 3, 1992), was born to James Benjamin Conrad and Eva Victoria Batz. She was the eldest of five kids. Estella (we called her "Nanny" too) was small like her dad, but her mother was even shorter. Nanny was very strict. Mom tells us how Nanny used to kick her around the kitchen floor for discipline. She was also a very hard worker. She was employed as head cook and caterer for Frymoyer's Hotel for 30 years! Dad enjoyed having dinner with them because she was such a good cook. Nanny and Pop Pop raised 6 sons and 2 daughters with very little. They lived across from a fertilizer plant on Frush Valley Road in Temple. Every time we went to visit the air was filled with the smell of pig manure. I got used to it. I remember that they had an outhouse at their home. When they finally moved the bathroom indoors it became an "inhouse" because it was still just a hole in the floor. They never had a flushing toilet as long as I knew them. Nanny had a large, purple birthmark that covered one side of her face. She was always on the go. When she died she went quickly. One minute she was doing fine and the next minute she was gone. Even with her no-nonsense exterior I loved her very much.

Charles Jeremiah Noll (July 25, 1915 - July 22, 1989) was the son of Wilson S. Noll and Rebecca Strunk (she was a twin). Wilson died of appendicitis (or complications therefrom) at age 39. "Pop Pop" had a very hard life. He was 8 years old when his father died. They were very poor, so Rebecca had to farm out the kids. Pop Pop stayed with a childless family that took good care of him. He apprenticed as a broom maker. At 21 he married Nanny, who was pregnant with Uncle Norman at the time. Pop Pop worked as a crane operator for Empire Steel, but had to retire early due to back problems. He got diabetes later in life and eventually became confined to a wheelchair. Pop Pop had a mischievous smile and a keen sense of humor. Mom says she was always daddy's little girl. Every time we came to visit he could be found seated in front of the television, watching one of his shows while listening to the police radio.

I will never forget the last time we spent time together. He was confined to a bed and could only listen as one spoke to him. I felt inspired to share what I knew of life after death with him. His eyes never left me as I explained about the spirit world and about our Heavenly Father's plan. Nanny and Pop Pop had never been religious, but I could tell that he was interested in what I had to say. He listened intently to the message. I could tell from his eyes that we were connecting. It was a very special moment that I will cherish forever. I can't wait to see him again.

Now let's meet my stepfather Rich's parents. Although not blood-related, I considered them family as much as anyone else. Walter Strunk Yoder was born in Lobachsville, Pennsylvania, on June 29, 1918 , to Thomas Rohrbach Yoder and Anna Ritter Strunk. He had one brother and two sisters. His father operated a still during prohibition and it was Walter's responsibility to fill the orders. He did so by putting the alcohol in the bottoms of baskets and covering them with produce. He actually grew up in a house a few doors down from the home he and Edna eventually shared. As a young man he worked at Bowers Battery in Lyons. He must have been good at what he did because when a personal friend of his started East Penn Manufacturing (Deka Battery) Walter was asked to work for him. 31 years later he retired from Deka. I believe his time card number was in the single digits! Walter was good friends with Edna's brother and that's how they met. The two of them spoke Pennsylvania Dutch to each other all the time. Pop Pop was very good with his hands. He enjoyed woodworking and made some beautiful furniture and clocks. I loved seeing his name burned into the bottom of his work! He liked to go to the auction and hunting, but wasn't much for fishing. He also loved baseball and was an avid Phillies fan. Gardening was another hobby he enjoyed. Every fall, he and Edna could be seen selling corn chowder at the Oley Fair. They attended Friedens Lutheran Church in Oley their entire life together. Pop Pop almost died several times, but always managed to pull through. However, at the age of 90, he fell and hit his head going down the stone stairs at his home and died a few months later. He wasn't a big man as far as physical stature is concerned, but when it came to talents and life experiences I thought he was quite large. I miss him very much.

Edna Viola Hafer Dierolf was born in Colbrookdale Township, Pennsylvania, on May 4, 1920, to Abraham William Dierolf and Martha Luella Hafer. She spent her whole life in Oley. Her family was pretty well-to-do, and she always said she gave up worldly things for love. She worked at Deka for 23 or 24 years. She, too, was an avid gardener and loved working at the fair. She also enjoyed sewing, crafts, and selling Avon. One thing about Edna is you always knew where she stood; she was never afraid to speak her mind. Both she and Walter were very involved with senior citizen groups and their church. Grandmom died from bleeding on the brain after a fall. She was 87 at the time.

Well, that's about it. I am grateful for grandparents who experienced both the good and the bad in life. I'm thankful for what they taught me, and for the terrific parents they gave me.

Changes to the U.S. Government That I Would Support

1. Bi-Annual Audits of the Federal Reserve Bank - It is unconscionable that such a powerful financial institution has no significant oversight.

2. Term Limits for Members of Congress - If you can't accomplish in 12 years what you came to do you shouldn't be there. Will require a Constitutional amendment. Probably would only succeed after a voter referendum on the state level anyway.

3. Switch to a Flat Income Tax System - This seems the fairest system of them all. Everyone pays his or her fair share evenly.

4. Severely Curtail Lobbyists - Too much political influence is currently afforded persons with no accountability.

5. Limit Abortion - Abortions would only be legal in cases of rape, incest, or to protect the life of the mother. I have never been in favor of destroying or limiting human potential. The debate as to when life begins can go on, but what's certain is that every pregnant, if allow to go to term, will result in a human being.

6. Public Notice of All Bills - All bills before Congress will be required to be posted on the Internet for a predetermined period of time before being voted upon.

7. Insurance Across State Lines - One should be allowed to buy insurance from any company in America. And pre-existing conditions shouldn't matter when it comes to getting insurance.

8. National Guard Along the Borders - The deadly drug wars along our border with Mexico prove our vulnerability to outside invasion. We cannot afford to let our guard down along the border. As far as immigration is concerned, everyone should have to follow the same rules for entering our country. Giving amnesty to illegal aliens makes a mockery of those who follow the legal route for immigration. Also, current law states that one is a citizen if one is born in this country. I would change that so that at least one parent would have to be a citizen already in order for anyone born here to automatically be a citizen.

9. More Privatization - Our government shouldn't be in the business of business. There are so many things our government does that would be more efficiently accomplished if contracted out to the private sector. A good example of this is road repair and construction.

10. Spending Limits for Political Campaigns - There should be spending limits set for each and every level of government. This would help level the playing field. Far too often the richest person - or the person with the greater financial backing - gets elected.

Baseball Been Very Very Good To Me

I like baseball. No, I love baseball! For me it's not just a sport, it's a passion. I love everything about it - the feel of the grass under my toes...the smell of a well-oiled leather glove...the crack of the bat (on wood, not aluminum!)...making a diving catch in the outfield...all of these things put me safely in that happy place where we all long to be. Now, I must admit my attitude toward America's past time has been tarnished by greedy owners & players, rampant steroid use, and cheating (to name a few black eyes), but I still love the game.

I credit dad for this passion. It started when I was a young boy; if there was a Phillies game on television or radio when we were with him, you can bet he usually had it on. We attended Reading Phils games whenever finances permitted (the benefit of living in a minor league town) and sometimes even made the trek to Philadelphia to sit in the nosebleed section of Veteran's Stadium (700 level) and watch the little ants...err...guys play. Mike Schmidt, Greg Luzinski, Gary Maddox, Bake McBride, Steve Carlton, Willie Montanez, Dave Cash...we loved them all. Well, Mike's allegiance leaned more toward the Baltimore Orioles, but I forgave him of that a long time ago.

Because of my parent's separation I didn't have much occasion to play catch with dad or any other male role model. As a result, I got a late start in playing the game. But I never let that - or the fact that I was small & skinny for my age - dissuade me from doing my best. I never got the chance to play Little League. Instead, a bunch of us neighborhood kids spent our summers on a field near the trailer park. Mom always knew where to find us. That's where I broke my nose. While playing catcher, a pitch glanced off the top of my glove and hit me square in the nose. It bled like a sieve!

I remember my sister Melody being the best 2nd baseman around. Mike was young but pretty good, too. My goal was always to hit the ball over the fence, but I don't think I ever did. With a lack of power at the plate, I instead concentrated on defense. Even now I'd rather run & dive in the outfield than step into the batter's box. Those were fun times; so many memories on that little field near Carsonia Park.

Mike and I created a lot of great memories at home, too. We spent many, many days playing whiffle ball in the front yard of our trailer on Midland Avenue. We made up our own rules, too - grab a grounder before it stopped rolling and it was an out; a ball that stopped before you got to it was a hit; a ricochet off of Elmer's trailer meant a home run. I don't know how many times he came out swearing at us for hitting that tin can! That is, when he was home. We even kept our statistics in little notebooks. I think Mike still has those in his attic.

By the time I reached high school I still hadn't played on a real team. I managed to spend a summer as a Little League umpire thanks to a friend named Leonard Krug, but being part of an official team had escaped me. My biggest problem was timing at the plate. At the end of my senior year I decided to go out for the legion team and made it! Legion baseball is big in Pennsylvania. It's basically summer ball for high school players so they can keep their skills up in the off-season. I spent most of the season on the bench, but did get to walk in a run against the fearsome Boyertown Bears. Making the team gave me the confidence to do something I always wanted to do - try out for the Reading Phillies.

Every year, the Reading Phillies held tryouts at Municipal Stadium for area hopefuls. It was more of a marketing stunt, but it did give them first-look at up-and-coming talent. I remember that dad came to watch me play. It meant so much to see him sitting in the stands cheering me on. I got to bat once and struck out (no big surprise), but I also caught a fly ball in centerfield. I will always cherish the memory of playing on the same field as the Reading Phils!

After high school I decided to play slow-pitch city league softball. I didn't have to worry about the speed of the pitchers and there was plenty of opportunity to run and dive. I think my first team was Remp's Iron. This is where I really cut my baseball teeth. I had finally found a ball field where I could excel! I quickly found that speed was my best asset. You see, many slow-pitch players share the same, rather large feature around their waists. They had great power at the plate, but this skinny kid could move faster in the field. I remember one particular shoestring catch that saved a game. I wasn't close to being the best on the field, but I could contribute.

It was during these early days of softball that I learned an important gospel lesson. We played a lot of games during the week, but also had a fair number of Sunday games. I had worked my way into being a regular player. I was having fun and doing what I liked best, so keeping the Sabbath holy by avoiding sports just didn't fit my agenda. But then a strange thing happened. I made the decision to play on Sundays, but for some reason the coach never put me into the games. Week after week I sat on the bench during Sunday games. I know for a fact the coach knew nothing of the decision I had made, but still there I sat. I soon decided that my time was better spent going to church and treating the Lord's Sabbath with more respect.

I have to add something really neat that dad did while I was serving my mission in Japan. It had been a very long time since the Phils made it to the World Series, so when they did in 1980 dad was determined not to let me miss it. He recorded and sent me every single game of the 1980 World Series! I can still remember lying on the floor in my bed listening to the final game: Tug McGraw won it in relief and the whole stadium went wild. So did a 21-year-old missionary in Katsura, Japan. Howbeit a few weeks after the fact.

After mission came school and then marriage & family, leaving little time for softball. But I found a way to slip it in where possible. While in Utah I managed to play a little and even work as a scorekeeper for Provo Parks & Rec. Then came a long, 10-year drought where the only action was church ball. It was while playing centerfield in our annual stake tournament in Berkeley Springs that I banged up my right ring finger fielding a screaming line drive (they said it wasn't broke, but we could sure see the knuckle bone). Man did that hurt! Then in 1995 another dream came true.

As program director for WJAL-TV in Chambersburg PA, one of my responsibilities was negotiating our sports contracts. We carried Big East football & basketball, WVU football delay games, Washington Redskins, Pittsburgh Pirates, and Baltimore Orioles. As a "reward" for affiliates, the Orioles invited a few people from each station to their annual Media Day at Camden Yards. Upon arrival we were ushered into the visitor's locker room, changed into souvenir jerseys at the actual lockers, and then got to take batting practice & shag flies on the field. I even won a fielding award. I can't tell you how great it was to see my name & photo up their on the Jumbotron - it was a dream come true! I got to meet a few players, too (like catcher Rick Dempsey). Needless to say, Mike was supremely jealous. We repeated this activity for two more fantastic seasons.

The station also had the chance to sponsor the local Hagerstown Suns, a minor league franchise located in Maryland. We had several big promotions there, and I had the opportunity to wear several mascot costumes for some of them (Michigan J. Frog & Pinky of "Pinky and the Brain" fame). It was at their stadium that former Blue Jays player George Bell played a practical joke on me. We were busy shooting a promo for an upcoming event when suddenly I felt a bee buzzing around my ear. Instinctively, I jerked to the side waving my arms wildly around my head. Upon hearing laughter I turned to see Mr. Bell, who had just simulated the sound of a bee at my ear by rubbing two fingers together. Baseball players are well-known as practical jokers.

While living in Martinsburg, we enrolled Shannon, Meghan, and Sarah in the girl's softball league for several years. It was really neat to see them pick up and enjoy the game. It really felt like, as far as softball was concerned, my life had come full circle. Now living near Charlottesville, I've had the opportunity to play on the same city-league softball team as both Meghan and Sarah (my employer, NBC29, is kind enough to sponsor teams). Meghan also played catcher & outfield for the Monticello Mustangs in her senior year, taking 2nd in districts.

So as you can see, both baseball and softball have been very, very good to me. I've had the chance to meet some great players (Larry Bowa, Rick Dempsey, George Bell, and Dale Murphy to name a few). I've been blessed with terrific memories, from going to games with dad to playing whiffle ball with Mike to watching my girls learn to appreciate the game. My favorite teams are the Phillies and the White Sox. Mickey Mantle, Shoeless Joe Jackson, Tris Speaker, and Frank Thomas are four of my favorite players. I love the old players and can't understand how they ever allowed an owner to be baseball commissioner. And I hope with all my heart that they have baseball fields in heaven.