I think someday I will need to rename this column “Turn Of The Century Thursday,” because I blatantly happen to marvel at that period of baseball history so darn much. However, Throwback Thursday is quite catchy… so we’ll leave it at that.
I have a friend who has a simple theory about this, about my fondness, my romanticism of the “ages past,” as we shall call them. For instance, I gush to him about 1960′s Ford Mustangs and pine for men’s fashions from the pre-Victorian era (Hello, Mr. Jackman in Les Mis). Then subsequently, I turn my nose up at 1990′s Ford Mustangs, and cringe and scoff at music and movies from the 80′s (I am sorry that you love it).
I try to explain to this friend that I have mature well-rounded tastes for design and engineering, like the way one who is trained and educated enjoys coffee, or craft beer, or pipe tobacco (I imagine).
He tells me I like things that are old because they’re old. He tells me that I don’t like things that are recent because they’re recent.
He tells me that someday the recent things will be old things, and I will like them. And the old things? I don’t know exactly his theory on that, but I assume, they will just be older things, so I will probably still like them.
So this one’s for you.
Christopher “Christy” Mathewson grew up in Factoryville Pennsylvania, the son of farmers, a brother of three brothers, a boy scout. Where many stories start, but none quite like Christy’s. After all, the town of Factoryville, PA is still celebrating Christy Mathewson Day nearly 90 years after his death, and you can’t say that about just anyone, whether their aura of fascinatingness is derived from their oldness… or perhaps, something more.