Free Alive on Opening Day by Adam Hughes Page B

joked.
     
    “ He’s coaching Little
League in Milltown,” David deadpanned. “No, Dan, it’s Coach
Croft.”
     
    “ Really?” Dan asked,
enthusiasm growing. “Sure would be good to see him again. To play
for him again.”
     
    David nodded but decided
not to press the subject any further in that moment.
     

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    Opening Day
    The Opening Day parade was
a blur of Cincinnati dignitaries, many of whom neither Dan nor
David recognized, and baseball-themed “floats” that were mostly
little more than cars with poster boards taped to them.
     
    Neither Hodges man had
ever witnessed the spectacle in person before, and it was exciting
to see, but both were more than ready to head to Riverfront Stadium
and get the season underway by Noon. They parked in a surface lot
near a dingy factory that didn’t look so bad in the daylight but
which Dan knew would be downright scary at night. They pushed their
way through the throngs of fans milling about near their cars and
the steady stream of ticket hawkers lining up outside the
turnstiles on the west side of the stadium. By 12:30, Dan and David
were standing in line for hot dogs and Cokes on the inner concourse
and, from there, they stopped for souvenirs — a program and a
yearbook — and made their way to their seats down the left-field
line.
     
    Dan and David had attended
dozens of games in Cincinnati during Dan’s childhood, but the
experience never lost its appeal for either man. Every time they
caught a glimpse of the surreal green turf peaking out from the
beneath the stadium overhang, Dan’s pulsed ticked up a beat, and
every first crack of the bat made him want to bolt for the field
and shag some fly balls. There was nowhere on earth as exhilarating
and at the same time comforting as a Big League stadium.
     
    And, while left field was
usually the territory reserved for the worst player on the team,
that was not always the case in the Majors. When it came to the
Cincinnati Reds, a perch in left field was a plum position to be in
as far as Dan was concerned. Not only would they be within shouting
distance of Pete Rose, but they would have a clear line of view for
everything Dan Driessen did at third base. And when the Atlanta
Braves took the field? Patrolling left field would be none other
than the legend himself, Hank Aaron.
     
    By the time Dan and David
were settled into their seats, players were starting to dribble out
of the dugouts and onto the field, and, a few minutes later, the
Braves began their batting practice routine. Dusty Baker and
Darrell Evans both took a series of mighty hacks, lofting several
balls into the stands, with some landing not far from where the
Hodges sat. Then a procession of lesser lights such as Marty Perez,
Vic Correll, and Paul Casanova took their cuts, but the Cincinnati
crowd, already large, was starting to get antsy.
     
    There was only one
man anyone wanted
to see that afternoon: the 40-year-old Aaron, who stood on the
brink of baseball history. Finally, when it seemed Hank might not
take the field at all, Number 44 climbed the dugout steps and stood
in the on-deck circle, taking a couple of warm-up swings. As the
Cincinnati stands broke into cheers and applause, Aaron strode to
the plate and stared out at the cage which protected pitching coach
Herm Starrette.
     
    Dan thought Aaron looked
rusty as he squibbed a couple of weak grounders through the
unmanned infield, but he got under a pitch and lifted it into
shallow left field, which seemed to be the turning point of his
“at-bat”. On the next pitch, Aaron’s famous wrists flicked a liner
into right, and he drove the ball beyond the outfield fence in dead
center. Aaron watched the ball from the moment it left his bat
until it disappeared out of sight, then nodded and turned to the
dugout. Good enough, he seemed to be saying. Ready to
go.
     
    The Cincy crowd treated
Aaron to a mixture of cheers and boos as he left the field — they
were thrilled to have