"You always get a special kick on Opening Day, no matter how many you go through. You look forward to it like a birthday party when you're a kid; you think something wonderful is going to happen."
Those words were uttered by no less a luminary than Joe DiMaggio, the Yankee great talking about the magic of Opening Day.
Ah, yes, Opening Day. It's Thursday. Now, weeks ago, I told you about the meaning of "pitchers and catchers report," but that was mere child's play compared to Opening Day, when it all begins. 28 major league teams in action, including our Fightin' Phils, who are scheduled to face the Washington Nationals at 4:05 PM on Thursday.
The most milestonish of Opening Days occurred on April 15, 1947, with Jackie Robinson's debut at Ebbets Field for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Alas, there seems to be no existing video or audio of the moment when the first Black player took the field in a major league game.
Now, there has always been a strong political connection to Opening Day. Strangely, the president who began that tradition was among our least athletic looking chief execs. William Howard Taft's first Opening Day pitch came on April 14, 1910, hours after the 345-pounder had been lustily booed by a congregation of suffragists lobbying for the woman's right to vote — something that didn't happen until ten years later.
FDR made eight ceremonial first pitches on Opening Day, a couple of them from a wheelchair. Harry Truman, clearly changing Missouri from the Show Me State to the Show Off State threw Opening Day pitches right handed and left handed in 1950. Dwight Eisenhower received much criticism when he eschewed Opening Day for a round of golf, but JFK threw out an opener in Washington, signed it for the player who caught it — an outfielder named Jungle Jim Rivera, who promptly gave it back to him and asked for a more legible signature. Obama threw out a ceremonial opener in 2010 in Washington while wearing a cap of his hometown team, the White Sox. That move was met with boos, as was his pitch, which was way way way outside.
Closer to home, one Opening Day will always stick in the mind of Phillies fans. That happened in 1972, when Bill Giles, a Phillies executive, paid $1,500 to a gentleman named Richard Johnson, a.k.a Kite Man. Johnson was petrified, but nonetheless was induced to ski down a hastily-constructed ramp in the right field of Veteran's Stadium, take off majestically into the air, and delivery the baseball to the mound, where the ceremonial first pitch would be delivered. That was the theory. In reality, Johnson was terrified from the beginning, and shortly after he began his descent down the ramp, the wind blew him into the seats. Kite Man, presumed dead by some, jumped to his feet and then heaved the ball, as if he somehow thought it would reach the mound. Instead, it reached the Phillies bullpen just beyond the outfield fence. Perhaps it was a harbinger. The Phillies finished dead last in the National League that season, with a 59-97 record.
But let's go out on a more optimistic note; an Opening Day song from a musician baseball fan named S.W. Campbell. Remember, everybody's undefeated on Opening Day, though Kite Man remains 0-1.
