I would never forget listening to the games being called by Fred Hoey, a voice that would describe every pitch, and every hit that Babe would perform.

I couldn’t go a day without listening, or even talking about baseball. I haven’t even got the clue why I out of the whole family liked baseball. My father was a Montreal Canadians fan, my brothers united to cheer for the Chicago Blackhawks but I stood by baseball.

I was always spending my free time in the living room, listening to the calls of each plays, trying to hear every word that is being said. While my brothers and my father sat on the couch watching their games being played. They would always criticize a missed pass, or a bad shot.

I never got as carried away as my brothers or father when a bad outing happened; I guess I always thought that Ruth would get them out of trouble. Sometimes I was right and others I was miserably wrong.

But what can I say I was more into the games just to hear what Ruth would do at plate.