Why We Choose Our Replay Seasons

When choosing seasons to replay with the APBA baseball game, what causes us to pick the years we do?

I am always thinking about the next season replay, not because I am bored with whatever current season I’m involved with but rather because there’s always that excitement about embarking on a new season. It’s a long journey, one the replayer invests a lot of time and energy into. We learn about that season in probably better fashion than any book could give us and as we immerse ourselves into it we live it.

As I am near the halfway point of my 1947 replay, I’m already thinking of the next replay and what adventure it can bring.

Obviously, seasons are often picked because we remember the actual corresponding season. I replayed the 1987 and 1991 seasons because they were both years that my favorite team, the Minnesota Twins, won the World Series. (In both of my replays of those seasons, the Twins did not win the crown. They didn’t even make it to the 1987 contest as they were beaten out of the American League West by Kansas City). I also bought the 1969 season because that was the first year I became really aware of baseball. And, of course, reading Jim Bouton’s “Ball Four,” his diary of his 1969 season with the Seattle Pilots, is a huge motivator for replaying that year.

I also bought 1972 to recapture the feeling I had as a kid in Minnesota that year. I was finishing sixth grade and headed to junior high that year and I was keeping a close eye on the Twins. Oakland won the West Division that year and the World Series. The Twins finished at .500 in 1972, but it was a good year for me as a youngster.

But on taking inventory of the seasons I do own, I realize half of the ones I have are of seasons before I was born. Granted, there are many APBA players who have far more seasons than I have. And there are those who buy new seasons each year for league play or just to collect them. I though, have picked the seasons for various reasons.

Here, then, are the seasons I have and the decisions on getting them over the 22 years I’ve been rolling APBA baseball games.

1901 and 1906 - Back when I had expendable income and connections with good APBA sellers on e-bay, I got these seasons for the historical aspect. 1901 was the first year for the American League. 1906 featured the great pitching of the Chicago Cubs.

1919- I was reading Al Stump’s “Cobb,” his take on the irascible Ty Cobb, and, while realizing much of the book was more fiction than reality, I decided to impulse buy the 1919 season. I called the company, ordered the season and when it arrived I remember seeing the box in the garage and feeling like a kid at Christmas. Whatever gift at adulthood can replicate that feeling?

1925 and 1927 – I had to have a season with Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig. I got the 1925 season early on in my replay career; it was the year Babe Ruth missed a load of games for whatever ailment you want to believe. Stomach ache, pneumonia, syphilis, et al. I played half the season and got bored with it because I played three-game contests rather than day-by-day. I never got the feel for the season. Recently, an APBA friend sent me the 1927 season. I’m reading Jane Leavy’s “The Big Fella,” her book on Babe Ruth’s barnstorming after winning the 1927 World Series now, and it’s a motivator to roll that season

1932 and 1934 – Again, I got these for the historical aspect. The 1934 St. Louis Cardinals’ Gas House Gang, Jimmie Foxx’s 1932 Philadelphia As, Rogers Hornsby…

1942 and 1947 – I bought 1942 to have a Joe DiMaggio season. Holly, my Illinois gal, bought me 1947 for Jackie Robinson’s first season.

1950, 1954 and 1957 – This is one of my favorite eras of baseball. Mickey Mantle, Henry Aaron and Willie Mays were all stars during that decade. 1957 was the second replay I had ever done and it gave me that feel of what replayers enjoy.

1961, 1964, 1965 and 1969 – These are all seasons that I was alive for. Of course, 1961 is Roger Maris’ 61-home run year. 1965 is the Twins’ World Series clash with Sandy Koufax and the Los Angeles Dodgers.

1972, 1974, 1976, 1977 and 1979 – See a pattern here? I think the 1970s are my favorite decades. The Twins had dismal seasons, but there were those Cincinnati Reds and Dodgers teams. And Henry Aaron hit his 715^th home run in 1974.

1981, 1985 and 1987 – 1981 was the strike-shortened year and I wanted to see what would happen if I played it as if there were no stoppage of play. I bought 1985 for the Cardinals and Milwaukee Brewers World Series.

1991 and 1998 – 1998 was the first season I bought from ABPA. It was before I got into replaying earlier seasons; I had done basketball, football and hockey replays of current seasons before but never got into doing earlier seasons until after I completed 1998 and realized APBA’s baseball game was really a good idea.

2001 – APBA issued a set to commemorate the 50-year anniversary of the game company. The cards are not on the larger cardstock that the rest are printed on but instead on slick, smaller, playing card-sized ones. I probably will never replay the 2001 season, not because of the difference in cards, but the season never interested me.

Each season has something interesting. They all provide learning experiences and months, if not years, of enjoyment.

Wipe Out

We were in the empty aisle of paper towels and cleaning products at our local grocery store when Holly spotted it. Hidden behind one of the shelf racks near a box was a lone package of toilet paper.

Because of the coronavirus Covid 19, there’s been a massive run on toilet paper. Apparently, everyone was afraid the outbreak would cause a break out of … well… what toilet paper is good for.  Finding a single package of four rolls was like discovering a treasure in a sunken ship, panning pieces of gold in a river, having an administrative leader who actually knew how to handle the pandemic. It was rare. Very rare.

Holly grabbed the package and put it in our shopping cart, hiding it beneath other, less desirable supplies. It was a cheap make of paper, something below the Always Save or Great Value offerings, more akin to the Are You Sure You Want It or the You’ll Be Sorry brands. The paper sheets had the consistency of shattered dreams and broken promises. I could have gotten better results from using leaves or newspapers. But, it was toilet paper, dadgum it. This country was founded on freedom and comfort. Toilet paper was invented only 160 years ago by an inventor who wanted to create a “medical accessory.” In that century and six-tenths we have become quite accustomed to it. According to toiletpaperhistory.net, a website devoted to wiping out misinformation about paper, U.S. residents buy 26 billion rolls a year. About 1.5 billion were purchased last Thursday. Charmin is charming. A coronation for Coronet , and all. What kind of nation would we become if we lost the right to wipe?

We continued down the aisle. I grabbed a toilet plunger and held it firmly, ready to swing at anyone daring to attempt to take the prized paper from our cart.  We pushed through the section that used to contain bleach and spray cleaners but was now empty. Holly has a tad bit of OCD; cleaning is an obsession with her to the point of wiping door knobs and using Lysol on the bottom of our shoes to kill any Covids we may have stepped in. This is a hell for her now. It is a world without wet wipes, soft soap, sanitizer and super cleaning liquids that promise the death of 99.9 percent of germs. It’s pretty much the same world to me as before, but I am somewhat of a slob, I guess.

She picked up some cat food and cat treats in another aisle and we headed toward the checkout. But we had to pass through the food section and therein lay trouble. Hoarders were gathered around the soup can shelf, jostling for position much like Bill Laimbeer of the 1987 Detroit Pistons did for a rebound.

They spotted us and advanced. I swung the toilet plunger at encroachers. I yelled out,” Look, the last can of Campbell’s chicken noodle!”  The diversion saved us. They stumbled toward the shelf like the extras on the early seasons of the zombie show “The Walking Dead” headin’ for brains and we pushed our cart past them.

The checkout line stretched around the self-checker stations and back into the store. People were observing the social distancing rule, maintaining six feet between each other. By then I was sweating from the exertion. I had also suffered from allergies and the budding Bradford pear trees were shedding their pollen, turning the air into a yellow mist of sneeze-inducing atmosphere.  Sneezing and sniffling were my constant companions and they did not abandon me in line. I got some nervous looks of Covid-fearing folks and then realized why there was the run on toilet paper. Whenever anyone sneezed in public, 100 others pooped their pants in fright.

I wanted to say, “Boy, I didn’t know having the coronavirus made me sweat so much” to clear out the line. But, I held back. I may have limited supply of toilet paper and cleaners, but I kept my sense of civility.

We got out of the store, tossed the goods in the back seat of the car and sped off. Our treasure was intact. We were proud. We came and we conquered and we won’t chafe later.

 Editor’s Note: Most of this was written two weeks ago for a more timely fashion, considering news of the day then. However, as this was being composed, a tornado bore down on our town in Arkansas and I, at my weekend job at an assisted living facility, had to scramble to get residents to safety. The twister missed us, but then came near our home, wrecking neighborhoods less than a mile from us. It kind of killed the writing muse what with that and the virus. It’s sunny today and, although more inclement weather is approaching for tonight, at least it was decent enough to finish this.