Two Campbell Soup Cans

Two Campbell Soup Cans

We sat in the cheap seats, way out in center field, in the peanut gallery.

At least we could say we were at the game, although in order to have a sense of what was going on, we watched the scoreboard and cupped our ears to listen to the tinny sound of the play-by-play on a transistor radio in the hands of strangers seated nearby.

Those same strangers wore proper baseball caps and, while they held their radios aloft to get the best reception, used field binoculars to view the ballplayer spitting tea color tobacco juice.

I brought no radio or binoculars. I wore an old, too small, wool ball cap. In my hands I watched the distant action through two empty Campbell soup cans, glued together with baseball gum.

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