This year's Yankee Elimination Day * is particularly sweet, since it was brought to us by my first baseball love, the Cleveland Indians. I first discovered the joys of following major league baseball, in 1958 when I was 10. Back then, Rocky Colavito was in right field and all was right with the world. **
I haven't called Cleveland home for more than 40 years, but there's still a soft spot in my heart for the hometown baseball team . . . except for its ubiquitous logo, Chief Wahoo. I can't help but cringe when I see it, and when you watch the Tribe play, it's everywhere.
Now I know these are fighting words in my family: When I visit them, Chief Wahoo's grinning countenance is inescapable all over Cuyahoga County and beyond, staring down from huge banners draped across house fronts and up from doormats and lawn ornaments, grinning at me from coffee mugs, emblazoned on first-string winter jackets, and on flags flapping from cars speeding down the Shoreway.
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