That’s what they called Earl Torgeson and on that
1951 baseball card he was stretched out making a
catch for a putout. One of my favorite cards, one
of my favorite players. All the Boston Braves were
my favorites and 37 years later I was asked to give
Earl, his daughter and Connie Ryan, who spent a
short time in the tomahawk uniform, a ride to the
airport. Earl sat in the front, Connie and the daughter
in the back. Here I was a grown man with children
feeling like I was six or ten again. In the excitement
of the moment I forgot to get the autograph, but will
not forget the memory.
THE POETRY OF THE GAME