And my mom wondered why I saved so many newspapers

As a guy who once thought being an investigative journalist or baseball beat reporter was his ultimate dream job, I kept a lot of newspapers. I thought about the historical value they might have and dreamed of some large game room or memorabilia display in the sprawling house I would have based on my book profits as a well-known author (in addition to my reporting duties, of course).

After Mark McGwire broke Roger Maris' single-season home run record, I asked my friends around the country to send me a copy of their local newspapers from the next day. One college friend -- also a newspaper and baseball buff -- happened to have been visiting his girlfriend in law school in St. Louis at the time and sent me the next day's (if not the EXTRA! edition distributed at the ballpark after the game) Post-Dispatch. I then did the same thing with friends in Knoxville and Austin the morning after the Bush-Gore election, which of course wasn't decided until a month later.

I still have some of the papers from those and other events, though I sorted through them a few months ago and recycled quite a few. At this point, do I really need to see how the Los Angeles Times covered McGwire's feat, especially now that it has lost so much of its luster? But I still have papers commemorating the Mets' 2001 NLCS clincher (which I attended), their World Series Game 3 win over the Yankees, the deaths of Joe DiMaggio and Harry Caray, the Nationals' first game in Washington (which I also went to), the first day-night doubleheader played in both New York ballparks, Tom Seaver's Hall of Fame induction and some significant moments in Lakewood BlueClaws history (as much because I wrote a lot of it).

There is also an assortment of non-baseball and non-sports events: Notre Dame football in Hawaii and the Fiesta Bowl, the women's basketball national championship, the Space Shuttle Columbia disaster and the Devils' second Stanley Cup. Most of the papers are The New York Times and Asbury Park Press, but there are a few issues of the Chicago Tribune, New York Daily News, Orlando Sentinel, Arizona Republic, Washington Post and maybe even a New York Post.

Of course, the oldest of these events is the 1992 Seaver induction. Somewhere (I might not have come across it yet, or I might have ditched it because of the condition it was in), I think I have at least one of the New York tabloids from the 1986 postseason -- I believe it was Lenny Dykstra's Game 3 walk-off home run. I'm just not old enough to have anything as cool as the Daily News covering Don Larsen's perfect game. Who knows how many copies of that paper were burned up, used to wrap up fish for trucking uptown or dishes for a move, or used to cover someone's head during an unexpected downpour. But Gary Sangastiano saved his copy and soon will loan it to Montclair's Yogi Berra Museum to be put on display (Yogi, of course, caught Larsen that day).

I'll make a point to drive up Valley Road to see it, but I also hope they scan or photograph the inside pages, too. As a news nut, I'll be as interested in reading the coverage as I will be in seeing the cover in all its yellowed glory.

Listening to history

As I was getting ready to drive into work last night, I got the text alert that Dallas Braden was perfect through six innings. As I waited in traffic heading into the Lincoln Tunnel, it occurred to me that I had yet to receive an update saying that the perfect game bid was over. So I fired up At Bat on my phone and listened to the Oakland radio feed just as the ninth inning was beginning.

Braden breezed through it in 12 pitches but it seemed like about four. Listening to the picture painted on the radio was a treat. Ken Korach's play-by-play was descriptive and unobtrusive. I've watched the no-hitters thrown by Jon Lester, Carlos Zambrano and Ubaldo Jimenez in recent years, but in each case, the TV announcers were a little too loud, too over the top. If anything, the radio broadcasters should raise the excitement a notch while the TV commentators should let the images speak for themselves. Twice I held my breath, wondering if the balls hit would find the outfield grass. There was Dioner Navarro's line drive to left fielder Eric Patterson on which there was a moment I wondered if it would fall in, and then Gabe Kapler's ground ball to shortstop Cliff Pennington, who fielded it cleanly and threw to first for the final out. If anything, I could've used a touch more excitement from Korach to know that it was a routine grounder to Pennington, but I can't really criticize his even call which, those who listen to A's games on the radio may know from experience, was an indication that it was all routine.

And then there are the Rays, who were perfected by Mark Buehrle just 10 months ago. Seven of Sunday's starters also played in that game in Chicago, including reserve Gabe Kapler, who nearly broke up Buehrle's with his drive to center in the ninth that Dewayne Wise made an amazing play to grab, and who made the final out yesterday. Only the Dodgers, who were on the wrong end of history for Tom Browning in 1988 and Dennis Martinez in 1991, have been the victims of two consecutive perfect games. Los Angeles had just one player in both games -- shortstop Alfredo Griffin. The Rays had seven. What baffles me about Tampa Bay, usually known as a strong and patient offensive club, is that those three batters in the ninth -- Willy Aybar, Navarro and Kapler -- weren't standing at the plate taking pitches until strike two. Especially Kapler, who made the final out on a 3-1 pitch. Braden came into the game averaging 1.70 walks per nine innings -- why not make him work in the final inning? He hadn't pitched out of the stretch all afternoon, so even a walk might be enough to throw him off his game and result in a fat pitch easily drilled for a base hit.

But I'm not complaining. It was a lot of fun listening to the ninth and a great story for a kid from a tough background, one who lost his mother to cancer in high school and had his grandmother in the stands on Mother's Day. A great day for baseball.