Mitali Perkins
I saw a great blog today written by Mitali Perkins.
Check out what she writes: http://the-fire-escape.blogspot.com
Hi Mitali.
I am new to your blog. Born in Boston, brought up in NYC...I grew up in the 70's and 80's, living and eating baseball and was always the only brown face in the game. I was the kid that made no sense because Indian kids don't play baseball (at least not in the 70's). As a child, I actually felt pride in knowing that there was a team called the Indians.
I was always the brown kid playing, and I'd say I was pretty good. I can even remember how pissed other kids would get if the curry-eating kid blew a fast ball by them. What made it even worse was that during those days I was a boy suffering from a Namesake mishap...Joy Ghosh. Something happens to Americana when a boy named Joy hits a homerun off you. Some of my summer days were spent being forced to join the Reading Club at a lccal library, where I would assert my independence by learning everything that I could about Hank Aaron, Tom Seaver, Babe Ruth and Jackie Robinson. It was my own way of saying F-you to my parents for making me read while the neighbors were in the pool. It reached a point where they requested that I not read.
In the end, my love of the game grew...to the point where I am in my 4th year as a Bleacher Creature in yes, of all places, Right Field at Yankee Stadium. And you know what, I an no poser...I am El Hindu...a no Beantown fan should come near me! BTW...A-Rod didn't suck last night...I am jealous that you were there to see it.
I must add though, that I did not always feel so comfortable...especially not when my father (in his research scientist way) would take my mother (in her sari-wearing way) into the Stadium with me in tow as a youngster...and I often watched in embarrassment as people made fun of us, while we were going to the games.
Funny, when I was growing up, my parents felt great connection to Boston. I suppose it has to do with where you first reside when you come to the USA. But, that translated in their attempting to make me a Red Sox fan. My father went so far as to tell me that I was born a mile away from Fenway Park and that in the year of my birth (1967), the Red Sox made it to the World Series. When we moved to New York, they still bought me Red Sox stuff and my older brother told me that Carl Yastrzemski was the greatest ballplayer that there was.
I'm glad that in all my rebellion, I made it a point to do the research and find out that on the day I was born, the Yankees were in town and that Mickey Mantle hit a homerun in the 9th at Fenway to win the game.
I wait for the first Desi Ballplayer. I wish it had been me.
Check out what she writes: http://the-fire-escape.blogspot.com
Hi Mitali.
I am new to your blog. Born in Boston, brought up in NYC...I grew up in the 70's and 80's, living and eating baseball and was always the only brown face in the game. I was the kid that made no sense because Indian kids don't play baseball (at least not in the 70's). As a child, I actually felt pride in knowing that there was a team called the Indians.
I was always the brown kid playing, and I'd say I was pretty good. I can even remember how pissed other kids would get if the curry-eating kid blew a fast ball by them. What made it even worse was that during those days I was a boy suffering from a Namesake mishap...Joy Ghosh. Something happens to Americana when a boy named Joy hits a homerun off you. Some of my summer days were spent being forced to join the Reading Club at a lccal library, where I would assert my independence by learning everything that I could about Hank Aaron, Tom Seaver, Babe Ruth and Jackie Robinson. It was my own way of saying F-you to my parents for making me read while the neighbors were in the pool. It reached a point where they requested that I not read.
In the end, my love of the game grew...to the point where I am in my 4th year as a Bleacher Creature in yes, of all places, Right Field at Yankee Stadium. And you know what, I an no poser...I am El Hindu...a no Beantown fan should come near me! BTW...A-Rod didn't suck last night...I am jealous that you were there to see it.
I must add though, that I did not always feel so comfortable...especially not when my father (in his research scientist way) would take my mother (in her sari-wearing way) into the Stadium with me in tow as a youngster...and I often watched in embarrassment as people made fun of us, while we were going to the games.
Funny, when I was growing up, my parents felt great connection to Boston. I suppose it has to do with where you first reside when you come to the USA. But, that translated in their attempting to make me a Red Sox fan. My father went so far as to tell me that I was born a mile away from Fenway Park and that in the year of my birth (1967), the Red Sox made it to the World Series. When we moved to New York, they still bought me Red Sox stuff and my older brother told me that Carl Yastrzemski was the greatest ballplayer that there was.
I'm glad that in all my rebellion, I made it a point to do the research and find out that on the day I was born, the Yankees were in town and that Mickey Mantle hit a homerun in the 9th at Fenway to win the game.
I wait for the first Desi Ballplayer. I wish it had been me.
posted by Deepmalya Ghosh at 7:08 PM
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