I wrote this piece as part of a class assignment during my junior year of high school in Fall 2010. I centered it on something given to me by my grandfather, John L. Davis, Jr. My grandfather meant the world do me and I put a lot of effort into this piece. He died on Valentine’s Day 2014 after a 10-year struggle with dementia. 

It doesn’t look like much. It’s just an old newspaper clipping from the early 1950s of Milwaukee braves third baseman Eddie Matthews, put inside an even-older-looking frame. Mathews, now regarded as one of the greatest Braves’ players of all-time, was a rising star for the Braves at the time, and the writer of this clipping must have known what was to come in his career.

The clipping simply reads “HOMECOMING – That’s what it’ll be for Ed Mathews as Milwaukee’s slugging third baseman faces his former Atlanta mates when the Braves invade Ponce de Leon Park Saturday night. Bob Giggie, another ex-Cracker (the Braves’ minor league team who they were playing in a friendly exhibition), will be the starting pitcher for the National Leaguers.” Above these words is the only part of the clipping you can see in the frame: a picture of Mathews. It is clear that this was taken in the early years of his career, as he looks like he’s just out of high school.

I still can’t get over the “M” on Mathews’ cap, signaling that he is a Milwaukee Brave, not an Atlanta Brave. Upon closer examination of the clipping, I see that it is from 1950, sixty years ago and sixteen years before the Braves even moved to Atlanta. The fact that I have just now really studied the picture doesn’t mean that I’ve been ignorant of its existence, but actually that the way I obtained it is more important to me.

I’ve had this picture for probably seven years now, given to me by my grandpa, J.L. Davis, or Poppy, as I’ve always called him. He has always been a Braves fan, and it seems that making him miss a game could be a punishable offense. I don’t really remember when and why he gave it to me; I guess he was just going through some old junk he had, found it, decided that it had served its purpose with him but at the same time deserved better than being at the bottom of the trash can, and decided that I could have it. I made sure that it didn’t end up in the same situation I had imagined it had found itself in with Poppy, placing it on the top of the entertainment center in my room.

While the positioning of the picture of Mathews in my room hasn’t changed since I first got it, a lot of other things have. The Braves’ stranglehold on the National League East has become a memory, I have gotten older and have moved on to high school, and Poppy’s life has changed dramatically due to his health. It’s been extremely hard to see this man, who was once so strong and intelligent, slowly lose his ability to drive, hear, and now even comprehend normal, everyday things. It seems like that many of the things he loved have been taken away from him-except for baseball.

When I look at this old picture, I don’t see a baseball player; I see a man’s undying love for the game. I don’t see the 1950 Major League Baseball season, but the sixty-plus seasons that my grandfather has watched and enjoyed. To put it frankly, I don’t see Eddie Mathews when I look at this picture; I see J.L. Davis, Jr.