The Boys of Summer | Emmanuel Burgin
It is July first nineteen sixty-eight A Monday afternoon I'm ten and I'm playing Catch with a friend on the Lawn of the apartments my Father owns The day air is still, the air heavy against the skin An L.A. summer day My oldest brother Eddie is cleaning his white '64 Thunderbird The driver's side door is open The radio tuned to the Dodger's game Vin Scully is calling the game Bob Gibson and the Cardinals against Don Drysdale Gibson has pitched 47 scoreless Innings Drysdale has the record at 58 Something has to give My brother has been out of the Navy four years, and he's sharing a room with me and my other brother Claudio I'm the youngest Eddie the oldest Eddie still wakes at 4 or is it 5 a.m. and begins spit shinning his shoes. He just got a job at McDonald Douglas Putting rivets in the engine's of turbines some of his friends are in Vietnam I watch him detailing the Dashboard of the car Drysdale strikes out Edwards looking It's the bottom of the first and Gibson is taking the mound