About the Author

I was a young boy, age 11, when I went to Shea Stadium in the mid-1970’s to see my first Major League baseball game  The sounds, the smells, the sheer excitement of the spectacle overwhelmed me.  I began to collect packs of baseball cards by the fist full.  I played pickup games of baseball in the parking lots, streets and empty fields of my hometown, Bridgeport, CT.  Mostly, I just wanted to be part of what I’ve always thought is the most perfectly beautiful game ever invented.

Also, I made lists.  Lots of lists.  I still do.  As a young boy, these lists became my way to organize and quantify a passion.  Now these lists have sprouted sentences, sometimes entire paragraphs.  I didn’t know what else to do with all these words lying around, so I gathered them up and decided to turn them into blog-posts.  I hope you don’t mind.

They don’t always say a lot, but they don’t ask for much, are already potty-trained, and they won’t (unlike my own children), eat you out of house and home.

So take them as they are, don’t judge them too harshly, and remember, we all started out as someone’s big idea once upon a time.

Bill Miller – Greenville, SC

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