Star Tribune staffers share their favorite Opening Day memories on what should have been the first day of the 2020 MLB season.
LaVelle E. Neal III, from April 14, 1981
I was a sophomore at Mendel Catholic High School. a five-block walk from our home on Chicago's South Side. My love of baseball already was deeply ingrained. I collected baseball cards, read baseball books and stayed inside to watch games instead of hanging out with my friends.
I used to sneak a radio with an earplug into class, run the cord under my shirt and into my ear and listen to spring training games — and that was when I was in grade school.
My team was the White Sox. I thought the Cubs wore pajamas for uniforms and played in a Little League park. My favorite player was Dick Allen, who had the forearms of life and swung a 40-ounce bat. I had been following the team since 1972 when the '81 home opener arrived.
But I was in school that day, and didn't have my radio. Drat.
About 10:30 a.m., I was summoned to the office, which never happened because I was/am a nerd and never caused trouble. My father was sitting in the reception area. "There's an emergency at home. Hurry up and grab your stuff," he said. My mind raced with possibilities. Once in the car, I asked if the house was on fire, or had something happened to Mom.
Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out two tickets to the White Sox home opener. Boom.
Some quick background here. Carlton Fisk had just changed his Sox. Boston missed a deadline to mail his contract to him in time to be signed, and he was declared a free agent. Jerry Reinsdorf and Eddie Einhorn had purchased the White Sox from Bill Veeck and wanted to show they were serious. So they swooped in with a five-year contract offer Fisk could not turn down. And, on April 14, 1981, I was in the right-field bleachers when Fisk made his White Sox debut against Paul Molitor and the Milwaukee Brewers.