Hank Greenberg: The Story Of My Life
Every day I'd play ball in Corona Park, across the street from our house in the Bronx. Anytime there was less than a foot of snow, I was playing baseball. The neighbors shook their heads and warned my mother.
Baseball wasn't looked upon as a business, and most of the guys in the game were pretty rowdy. So my parents didn't think much of me pursuing it. They thought I ought to be studying instead of playing baseball. I grew up with typical Jewish parents whose objective was to send their children to college to become doctors or lawyers. As a matter of fact, my two brothers and my sister all graduated from college and went into professional work. But I loved baseball and stuck with it.
In my early days, I was completely engrossed by baseball. On weekdays after school, I'd rush to the park with my glove, bat, and ball, and come home only after it got dark. Weekends were completely devoted to the old field. And instead of coming home for lunch, I'd fill my pockets with fruit and candy and stay down at the ballpark all day. We were just in love with playing baseball and the days weren't long enough.
Source: Greenberg, Hank, with Ira Berkow. Hank Greenberg: The Story of My Life. Chicago: Triumph Books, 2001.
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