Parker Field was an old wooden baseball stadium in Richmond. We were the # 1 farm team for the Yankees and then the Braves. The place had character. When I was 16, my brother Brick and Andy Anderson left the game early. I was walking about 20 paces behind them when a foul ball dislodged a 16’ 3 x 8 which missed their heads by about 2 feet as it crashed onto the pavement. (They had smoked so much pot, they didn’t even notice). Dodging huge pieces of lumber and defying death added to the charm of the place.
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