Today's game bears only superficial resemblance to the game on which I was weaned. For one thing, childhood giants will always maintain a stature far and above the heroes that come afterward. Those Yankee teams of the early 60's seemed populated with perennial all stars: Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Bobby Richardson, Tony Kubek, Clete Boyer, Yogi Berra and Elston Howard. Whitey Ford led a pitching staff full of young lions such as Jim Bouton, Al Downing, Ralph Terry and Bill Stafford who looked destined to prolong the dynasty forever. Yes, there have been better guys since then, but these were my heroes.

The men who told us about on field doings also seemed larger than life; Mel Allen, Phil Rizzuto, Red Barber, Bob Prince, Jack Brickhouse, Harry Caray, the immortal Ernie Harwell, plus others, who for reasons of geography I did not hear. I'm sorry, but no matter how good Al Michaels and Bob Costas become, they will never dwarf the first group.

And players and owners amaze me in their search of the almighty buck (not even touching on the proposed strike). Every year at least one and usually several of the former move from the teams for which they'd become established for more money. Okay, this is their legal right, and I understand the principle. But what about the fans that paid big bucks for tickets suffering through these guys growing pains? How much realistic difference is there in 12 million a year as opposed to 17 million to fans who make 4 to 8 hundred dollars a week- if they're lucky enough to have a job?

The latter group dangles a moving threat to force sweetheart deals on host cities that would make even O'Malley blush. Teams in areas of long standing suport get sky boxed, state of the art stadia at no cost to them, and these structures will be outdated as soon as the next Mt. Sinai edict for extracting more bucks comes along, forcing a duplication of the whole cycle.

So O'Malley wouldn't blush. You get the idea.

I have prejudiced views. They're MY prejudiced views though, and I'm entitled to 'em. These iconoclastic ideas probably reflect what Frost meant when he said: I was never radical when young/For fear I'd be conservative when old.

On that note, here's a radically conservative poem about the '48 PCL pennant winning Oakland Oaks, formerly too short for publication:

emeryville '48

BUT IT'S FAR FROM ME.

BUT THEY FORGOT ME .