The first Major League Baseball game I ever watched was Game 6 of the 1993 World Series. The Joe Carter game. My dad borrowed a TV, and my brothers and I sprawled on the attic floor in our family’s home in Épehy, France. We were transfixed. The game wasn’t live — it was a few years old by then — but we had no idea how it ended.
Somehow, my dad had gotten a videocassette copy of the game. It was the Italian broadcast. We didn’t understand the language, didn’t live in the United States or Canada, but we were in love with the game of baseball. We watched Game 6 over and over, from Dave Stewart’s first pitch to the hero Carter being carried off the field by his teammates as the sellout crowd at Toronto’s SkyDome roared.
All these years later, I’m lucky enough to still love baseball and write about it for a living. I’m a national baseball writer for The Athletic. I’m also a husband, a father, a son, a brother and a twin. I grew up in Michigan, started writing while at the University of Michigan and began my career at the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. A lot of you tell me I have your dream job. It’s mine too. Feel free to reach out through the links below, and I’ll do my best to respond as soon as possible.
Thanks for dropping by.