There’s a Catch

It didn’t last very long. The World Series was over after 5 games.

I didn’t see any of it. But I’d been thinking “World Series” for months, for a different reason. It was 70 years ago, during Game 1 of the 1954 World Series, that Willie Mays made “The Catch.” That’s when he ran toward the center field wall of the Polo Grounds in New York, chasing a fly ball hit by Vic Wertz. Though it appeared to be sailing beyond his reach, he caught it over his shoulder – basket style – just before he and the ball came to the wall. He saved the game for the Giants, who went on to win the Series 4-0 against Cleveland.

I was thinking about it not only because it happened 70 years ago, but also because Willie Mays died on June 18 at age 93. I was a Willie Mays fan as a kid. That’s putting it mildly.

It wasn’t easy. Living in a Midwest American League city before the years of interleague play, I had to hope that the Giants would be featured on the Saturday afternoon TV game of the week, or be fortunate to have just the right atmospheric conditions to catch a night game drifting in from radio stations in National League cities. I would sit for hours on the front porch, slowly turning the dial of a transistor radio and listening through the static for just a hint of a baseball broadcast. Eventually, I would find out from the chatter of the announcers which teams were playing. Even when I did catch a Giants game, the signal would often fade, particularly during exciting moments, and return during commercials.

I never had the chance to see Willie play in person, except years later at an “Old Timers Game.” I treasure that memory!

Though you can watch “The Catch” over and over online these days, I had to settle for the sequence of black and white photos that showed it at various stages. Those photos appeared in every Willie Mays biography. I had borrowed a number of those from the local public library.

There was another book on the same shelf as the sports biographies. It was called My Secrets of Playing Baseball. It was written by Mays, with the assistance of Howard Liss. In the book, he shared some insights into batting and fielding. And there were full-page color photos. I borrowed that book more than a few times, hoping to learn how to play just like Willie Mays.

But there was a catch, of a different sort. Merriam Webster defines it as a difficulty that’s hidden or not easily recognized. Simply said, I didn’t learn how to play like Willie Mays. Over the years, I came to realize that some folks are truly gifted with skills and abilities that make them extraordinary athletes and artists.

That helped me admire those musicians whose recorded performances seem to transport me to another world. And it made me want to catch one of their live performances, or at least one that made its way to radio.

I learned another lesson too. I could still enjoy playing in “choose-up” games of baseball or softball.  I discovered that I wasn’t alone in falling way short of major league caliber. And I often found myself in the company of quite a few dreamers who donned their heroes’ caps and jerseys.

I can spend time with a musical instrument and enjoy that too, without the pressure of having to play like the legendary performers. You probably hear me mention often enough that if you do play an instrument, stay with it. The more you nurture the skills, the easier it gets to enjoy making music.

With “The Catch” on my mind, I caught sight of something else that turned out to be both timely and amusing. I had wanted to know more about the Spanish composer Manuel Infante (1883-1958). I often play the Labèque sisters’ recording of one of his Danses andalouses, written for piano 4-hands. So, I searched, only to learn about a baseball player – a catcher – by the name of Manuel Infante! He was on the Dominican Republic’s bronze medal team in the 1954 Central American and Caribbean Games, according to the website Baseball Reference. That was the same year that Willie Mays and the Giants won the World Series – 70 years ago. I didn’t learn much more about the composer, except that he spent much of his life in Paris.

Catching items like that seems to occur regularly. As often as I do, I share them on the program as a sort of “Catch of the Day,” to borrow the restaurant phrase. So join us for Classic Mornings, Monday through Friday from 9-noon on FM 90.9 or online at will.illinois.edu.