Dan Isenberg
Ideas. Words. Culture.
“Penis!!!!!!!!” That’s how my first trip to Spring Training started — my uncle rolling down our rental car window as we exited the Tampa airport, screaming the word that symbolized our freedom as Isenberg men. The women in our families were home in New York, so for the next week, it would be nothing but boner jokes, burgers, and baseball. Just me (8 years old, above left), my cousin Chris (13 years old, above right), my father Jim, and his older brother aka my uncle Steve.
March of 1987 was the first time we took our yearly Spring Training trip. I was a 3rd grader whose obsession with baseball was just beginning, whereas my cousin’s was already in full bloom. And our fathers were life-long diehards. This trip was a chance for me to see what being a true baseball fan was all about — up close and personal. Over the course of a week, we’d drive from Tampa to Ft. Lauderdale, stopping in every small Florida town in between to watch as many MLB Spring Training games and practices as we could squeeze in. And along the way, I learned how to keep score, the science of buying and collecting baseball cards, and the most important skill of all: how to get autographs. Here are My Top 10 Spring Training Memories…