A few weeks ago I was in Hawaii on my honeymoon (highly recommended; try the Big Island for a lava-riffic time) and, being a couple of law students, my wife and I are cursed with both a lack of cash and a glut of nerdliness. On the plane, I was reading a Hawaii travel guide that noted that Alexander Cartwright, the Father of Modern Baseball, died and was buried in Honolulu. (Read more about Alexander Cartwright Here).
"Honey..." I said.
"Fine," she answered. What a gal. We were going to Seamhead Calvary!
Located in Oahu Cemetery, less than a mile from the Punchbowl National Military Cemetery, Cartwright's tomb has become a destination for baseball fans, probably mostly dudes in Hawaii on their honeymoons. At the foot of the tombstone were several baseballs, some with messages scrawled on them (one in Japanese).
Even though I am the least superstitious person on Earth, I chose to leave my own offering to Mr. Cartwright.
I purchased this Phillies hat in 2004 at Citizens Bank Park at the night opener. It's been a very useful piece of headgear because: 1) It's roomy; I have a head just slightly smaller than Ted Kennedy's, and I have a hard time finding hats that fit my gigantic cranium; and 2) It's machine washable; I sweat, on relatively cool days, like Kevin Millwood in the 4th inning in August on Dollar Dog Night. But I understand that the Baseball Gods (BaseBa'al chief among them) demand meaningful sacrifice and so, for you, for me, and for the Phillies, I left my hat with Mr. Cartwright, who surely has some kind of pull with the Baseball Gods.
And so, with this humble offering, I beseech you, O Baseball Gods, please look kindly upon our Phillies now and in the future.
