My dream as a kid was to be He-Man play professional baseball. Growing up in Middle-of-Nowhere, NY1 made this dream a bit more of challenge because 1) I often had to resort to doing things alone and 2) I didn’t have a ton of access to watching baseball.
My parent’s house was outside of town lines, which meant we didn’t have access to cable television. I had five channels to choose from (<– borderline child abuse nowadays), and the only way I could watch a MLB game was to wait for the “Game of the Week” broadcast every Saturday afternoon on one of the major network channels.
Although, sometimes, if I used enough tin foil on my small black and white television in my bedroom, and angled my antenna juuuuust right, I could snake a regional broadcast out of Elmira, NY of the Yankee games.
I’d stand there in the middle of my bedroom with my bat and emulate the swings of Don Mattingly, Jesse Barfield, or Steve Sax pitch by pitch.
Anyways, I’d record the weekly broadcast on Saturdays on our VHS player and play back the game over and over and over again throughout the week.
The real treat was the annual All-Star Game. I’d record that game too, and play it back ALL year…oftentimes watching an inning or two and then heading outside to my backya…