Have you ever wondered “where can I find a book about a popular sport written by an actress from the 80s?”, well friend, have I got the answer for you!!
Alyssa Milano of Who’s the Boss? fame has just released a memoir of sorts celebrating her life-long relationship with baseball, and specifically, the Dodgers. Here, read some excerpts:
OK, so that period of my life went like this: I was the girl loved by everyone and no one all at once. You must know a girl like this. You can’t understand why she is still single. Men adore her, profess their love before the chicken satay arrives; then the phone rings one day, and it’s her telling you he left her. Or at least that’s what you think she’s trying to tell you, but the sobbing makes it harder to decipher the exact phrasing. Then she does that silent cry and you think the phone went dead, or worse, she went dead. Then the ten-second silence is broken by the phlegmy inhale and then more incoherent screeching. Yeah, that’s me, the incoherent screecher.
The game on TV was never intrusive. Periodically the reception would hiss and the static would infiltrate the screen. While the game wasn’t always the focus of the night, its presence was constant. Our family coming together with the sounds of umpires, crowd roars, and base hits — not to mention the unforgettably excitable voice of Phil Rizzuto screaming “Holy cow!” like he was sitting on the couch next to you. Little did I know how much those early days would shape the woman I eventually became. The creativity I was surrounded with back then became the foundation of a career that’s now twenty-nine years old. Meanwhile the sport, which started as background noise, grew into a member of the Milano family and became a love of baseball that’s now twenty-seven years or so young.
Yeah, I dated three baseball players. Not only that, they were all pitchers, imagine that. (But the one in the middle was a lefty so I don’t know if he really counts). All three were very different men but nevertheless clearly heroes in the eyes of a girl who idolizes baseball players. I am not a total dolt. I saw that I was repeating a pattern that had to be broken. Each lasted seven months too: further proof of a definite pattern.
I long for the old days my father talks about. The days when kids stuck baseball cards in the spokes of their bicycles and rode the streets of Brooklyn until they came to a stickball game, at which point they jumped off, put their kickstands down, and jumped in. He actually got weepy about it a few years back when he told me of this time (and mind you, it wasn’t the first time he told me of this time). He told me about how a city of immigrants welcomed a team of immigrants, and how no other place in the world, and no other team, could have done what his team did, which was to hire a black man named Jackie Robinson as its shortstop, and end segregation in baseball.
I got my first professional acting job when I was seven. I don’t know how it happened. I mean, I know the story of how it happened, but I don’t remember much of the specifics. The story goes like this: My sweet aunt Sissy took me to see the Broadway musical Peter Pan for my seventh birthday, and I looked at her all wide-eyed and said, “Aunt Sissy, I can do that.” Before anyone knew what happened I was at an open audition for the play Annie. Fifteen hundred kids auditioned, and four were picked. I was one of the four. I didn’t choose to be an actress. It chose me. I still don’t know why it chose me, but I feel blessed for it and this powerful thing called destiny.
So for those of you looking for a confusing read about some random woman’s family, that random woman’s father’s memories of baseball, and some weird histrionics about that same random woman’s love life and professional life, run out and get Safe at Home!!
Me, I’ll stick with She’s the Boss.