A veteran and a fine father

Check out this link to a Boston Globe story about my father

https://www.bostonglobe.com/metro/obituaries/2014/11/26/blasi-longtime-revere-high-baseball-coach-formerly-led-state-coaches-association/xa7uUxaeyfa1jtsHodQ3DK/story.html

Imagine you are this kid from the Greater Boston area with your heart set on attending college when a letter suddenly arrives in the mail from Uncle Sam ordering you to report for duty in 1954.

Albert John Blasi was from an Italian family and grew up in Revere, Mass. He lived for baseball and grew up watching DiMaggio, Williams and Yaz at Fenway Park. He wanted to coach and teach history and loved betting on the ponies. Gambling is like a second sport in Revere, which featured Suffolk Downs thoroughbred racing and the Wonderland Dog Track.

Those two betting establishments were a haven for gamblers like my father, whose other passion was sports.

He and his wife, Louise, attended Ted Williams’ final game of his career on Sept. 28, 1960. I was about six months old. Years later, my mom mentioned their visit to Fenway in passing.

He was drafted by the United States Army in 1954 and was sent to occupied Germany to help the country’s denizens get back on their feet after a brutal war. He served with the Big Red One, which was also known as the First Infantry Division during peacetime. The Fighting First took hell in World War II, landing at Omaha Beach on D-Day.

My father missed serving in the Korean war by a year. I missed serving in Vietnam by a couple of years. We were both lucky but always honored those who picked up a gun in a war.

He became a sharpshooter, but he had no intention of making a career in the service.

His baseball dream came true in Germany. He was playing in a pick-up game on the base when he drove the ball out of the park. A colonel saw him and was so impressed with my father’s baseball skill that the officer instructed the leader of Blasi’s unit to relieve him of certain duties so he could play for the post teams.

I have a picture of him playing catch with his post team at Zeppelin Field in Germany. The field was a rallying point for Hitler's armies. Behind my father is a destroyed swastika.

For the next year, he was living the dream — playing baseball in Germany and skiing in Austria.

He enjoyed lugging around a bat and glove instead of a Browning automatic.

After his two-year stint, he resigned from the Army with great joy. He was a civilian and America’s pastime made him a prisoner of his passion for the game.

My father told me the story about his last day in the Army.

“Anthony, the sergeant said, ‘We all know Al Blasi is leaving us and will miss the army.’ Everyone laughed in my unit.”

He headed home and straight to Suffolk University where he majored in history on the G.I Bill’s dime. He became a devoted teacher and ended up coaching the Revere High School varsity baseball team for 42 years.

He was also devoted to his four children and wife. He was a coach known for his kindness and devotion to his players and community.

To me, he was my dad and somebody I could always count on.

Albert John Blasi died of Alzheimer’s (also known as The Long Goodbye) on Nov. 8, 2014. He served his country, but more importantly, he loved all of us.

There is not a day when I don’t think about my parents — many times with tears in my eyes from a heavy heart.

Taking the chill out of Autumn

The Great Falls Balloon Festival - a sight to behold

The Sea Dogs at Hadlock Field in Portland

AUBURN, Maine — Winter's emissary, Autumn, announced itself when it blew into town with its frosty air and brisk temperatures on a bright Friday morning. Trees swayed in 40-mile-per-hour cold winds, which swept away three days of stifling humidity.

I closed all the windows to seal in the heat and ignored the thermostat. Flipping on the furnace is a no-no in September because the sun heats our house to 75 degrees on cool days. And thanks to price-gouging oil companies, I won't consider burning oil until October. Call me cheap or a concerned environmentalist who has been forced to conserve fuel thanks to overpaid CEOs and greedy speculators. I have my trusty wood stove on standby and all my wood is stacked, cut and ready to burn when Old Man Winter engulfs New England in an icy embrace for the next five months.

But I do have a treasure trove of warm memories of a summer to take chill out this family's bones. Pictures of the Great Falls Balloon Festival and our trip to watch the Portland Sea Dogs play baseball at Hadlock Field in Portland will make winter bearable.

Away all balloons

For the past 19 years, the Twin Cities have hosted a balloon festival in late August. The weekend event draws thousands of spectators from all over and is a sight to behold when, if the steamy weather cooperates, dozens of giant balloons crowd the skies during the six launches. The early-morning flights are the best. The weather is cool and the threat of thunderstorms is minimal, guaranteeing an eye-opening launch on a bright summer morning.

My son took our camera and raced around the streets of Lewiston and Auburn on a Saturday morning, snapping nearly 80 photos, which were included in a slide show. Some people go for the entertainment, the shopping booths and fast food, but for me, the unique balloons lifting off with apprehensive passengers is worth jumping out bed at 5:30 in the morning.

Sometimes, if we are not up for a morning launch, balloons will drift by our home and a blast fire from their loud propane burners will wake us. I will run to the door and watch the low-flying airships hover over us. From what I have been told, if they are forced to land in your yard, they will present the homeowner with a bottle of champagne for an unscheduled landing.

But what really makes these large balloons so unique is their sizes and shapes. The behemoths can make the sun disappear as they drift over head.

Evening launches draw larger crowds at Railroad Park, but when there is a threat of thunder, balloon pilots will stand down and not risk putting their passengers in harm's way.

Going to the Dogs

Can't afford a $300 day at Fenway Park? Apprehensive about taking your life into your own hands when driving around Boston? Scared of getting mugged when taking the "T" to Fenway? Paying for watered-down beer at $10 a pop astound you? Worried that 

the guy next you will light up a three-foot stogie and smother you in cloud of a second-hand smoke?

Save money, time and avoid Boston's insanity and visit Hadlock Field in Portland to checkout the Sea Dogs. This is great entertainment at an affordable price without playing bumper cars with Massachusetts drivers. Parking is a jaw-dropping $5 to watch the Double-A players man a diamond. 

Look, competing with Friendly Fenway on any level is a lesson in futility. And Boston's glamour is a tough act to follow even though I think Portland is a great little city with so much to do without going broke.

I confess I am a Mass Hole who grew up 10 miles from Fenway's finest. When you attend a game at Fenway, it  feels like you have entered another country. This is one of the few old parks left in Major League Baseball where you don't feel like you are watching a team from the cliffs of the Grand Canyon. There's an intimacy about the park, but I also get that feeling from Hadlock Field. I enjoy the Dogs' sideshows in between innings and their numerous raffles. It really feels like the old days when the pros did the same thing for fans.

But making it a day at Fenway Park means taking out a small loan at the bank. Parking is $25 and ticket prices can make a grown baseball fan cry, and then there is the cost of food and drink. Throw in gas money for the long commute and you really got yourself a ball game for the price of about $300 for a father and son who love America's pastime.

Attending a Sea Dogs game won't blast a hole in your bank account. Ticket prices are reasonable and so isn't the food and drink. Sure, it's Double-A ball and Hadlock isn't Fenway and Portland can't compete with Boston, but who really cares when it comes to watching baseball. And there is a replica of the Green Monster at Hadlock, which isn't so astounding because the Dogs are a minor league affiliate of the Boston Red Sox.

But if you have $60 in your wallet and your son or daughter wants to watch a baseball game at a cozy park, then you have just enough cash to hit one out of the park at Hadlock Field.

So take them all out to the ball game without going broke.

Fenway Park can wait.