baseball

Follow the Code

You may be a walking encyclopedia on the official rules of baseball but do you know the unwritten ones? There is far more happening on the field than what most people realize.

Read these insider books where the players discuss the secrets behind the official game. Find out what they deem fair and unfair and what happens when the game's social rules are broken:

Take Me Out to the Ball Game!

baseballsIt’s the middle of summer and halfway through baseball season. I’m not a huge baseball fan myself, but I do enjoy a good baseball movie. Baseball movies remind me of sitting in the nosebleed section at the ballpark, eating hot dogs and peanuts, singing “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” during the seventh inning stretch, watching fireworks after the game, and cheering on my favorite team.

If you’re like me and can’t make it out to Minute Maid Park to watch the Astros play, there are plenty of baseball movies to get you through the season. Browse the HCPL catalog and request your favorite today!

Kimberly’s Baseball Movie Picks:

Poetry in Motion

Cover Art: Casey at the Bat by E. L. Thayer: Illus. by C. F. Payne

Like most of the planet beyond our borders, I've been watching a good deal of the World Cup. Despite the hornet's nest drone of the ubiquitous vuvuzelas and the fact that soccer players tend to react like they've been trepanned with a soup spoon whenever an opposing player so much as gives them a hard stare, I've been enjoying it.

Play Ball!

Many years ago, I got a job working as a circulation assistant at a library. My schedule on most days had me going to work at 11:00 a.m., taking an hour for “lunch” at 4:00 p.m., and then working the evening shift until the library closed at 8:00 p.m. Usually I got home about 8:30. I began this job in July, so when I got home, my mother was watching the Atlanta Braves game. I’d played softball as a kid, but it had been a while since those days and I wasn’t a big baseball fan. On the other hand, my mother was. (Where my parents were concerned, my mom, not my dad, was the bigger sports fan.) When I arrived home, I was beat. I’d been on my feet most of the day. But I wasn’t necessarily sleepy, so I’d sit with Mama for a while and watch the game.

Steroids

Picture courtesy of ryansflickr on flickr.com
 

When I was seven years old I went to a baseball game with my family.  I was living in Fremont, Ca and this was not an uncommon occurrence.  I ran to the front of the stands as batting practice was ending with my baseball cards in hand.  I was in luck.  This day, Mark McGwire was signing autographs.  I was small and cute, so I was able to wriggle my way to the front of the crowd.  "Mr. McGwire!  Mr. McGwire!"  I yelled in opposition to all those around me who were yelling out "Mark!".  He smiled and pointed at me. 

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