What some of you youngsters think of as nostalgic is part of the modern era for me.
I've often told my daughters that if I could get a time machine I would want to go back to see a Braves game in 1957 when I attended my first major league game as a 5 year old.
When the Braves were in town my Dad would occasionally get his company's tickets, usually for Sunday afternoons that often featured doubleheaders. We would arrive at the park an hour or so before the game and take our seats in section 13 of the lower grandstand, directly in back of the Braves dugout. We would see the visiting team take batting practice. Then they would roll the cage away and the visitors would go through their fielding drills. After that the Braves took the field, and a young boy marvelled at how Eddie Mathews, Johnny Logan, and Joe Adcock would whip the ball around the infield and the outfielders would shag the long fungo fly balls served up by the coaches.
Just before the game, Warren Spahn, or whoever else was starting that day, would come out and warm up, not in the bullpen but from a mound on the warning track outside of the dugout.
Things were so different in those days when the game was the whole attraction. There were concession stands and many vendors walking through the stands. But the stadium wasn't like a shopping mall food court with cocktail lounges scattered around. The small scoreboard showed the score, balls, strikes and outs and scores from other games. But no statistics, video reviews, or games in between innings. The average game length was about 2 hours and 15 minutes, so it went by quickly.