Skip to main content

Chasing the Magic

In this episode, Chasing the Magic: How the Summer of ’98 Inspired the 'Ball Boys' . . . 

Do you remember that feeling?

The late-summer air was thick with humidity, radios crackling on porches, the smell of fresh-cut grass and barbecue smoke in the backyard. Every evening carried a new kind of suspense—the country holding its collective breath after every pitch. “Did he hit one today?” became more than a question; it sparked a nationwide conversation. 

For me, and millions of others, the summer of 1998 wasn’t just another baseball season. It was theater, a movement, a time when the game recaptured something sacred. As sportswriter Mike Lupica said so perfectly,

  “No matter how old you are or how much you’ve seen, sports is still about memory and imagination. Never more than during the summer of ’98, when baseball made everyone feel like a kid again, when it felt important again.”


   Just four years earlier, the 1994 players’ strike had left the sport bruised and fans bitter. Attendance was down, and the romance of the game was lost. But then came Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, a duo whose power, personality, and pure joy for the game reignited America’s passion for baseball.


   They weren’t just chasing a record; they were chasing history, day after day, home run after thunderous home run. Every swing was rewriting the record books. “Did Sammy hit one today? Did Big Mac go deep?” These questions weren’t just small talk; they were the pulse of summer.


And I remember it vividly—September 15, 1998. 

My dad (Doc), Rodger, Ronnie, and I—the “Ball boys”—piled into Mom’s car for the three-hour trek to St. Louis. We packed a cooler, snacked on Snickers bars, and argued who would drive home that night, as we sped down I-55, filled with anticipation. We were heading to Busch Stadium for what had become the second game of a doubleheader against the Pittsburgh Pirates. Just a week earlier, McGwire had hit his 62nd homer, surpassing Roger Maris’s iconic 1961 record. That moment had shocked the sports world, but we weren’t trying to match history. We were chasing the next chapter.

That night, we got it.

Mark McGwire hit number 64.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. Flashbulbs popped like fireworks. Strangers high-fived, hugged, and shouted with sheer, childlike joy. It wasn’t just a home run—it was history unfolding before our eyes. And we were a part of it.

For those not glued to their radios, box scores, or maybe who weren’t even born yet, it’s impossible to overstate how electric that season was. While McGwire had already broken Maris’s mark, Sosa’s record-shattering surge—including 20 home runs in June alone—kept the rivalry alive and the drama white-hot. They traded the lead. They lifted each other. And they captivated the nation.

"That's a Winner," Cardinals announcer Jack Buck would say. (Pirates game two, Cardinals 9-3).

With Ronnie behind the wheel, we left the stadium that night buzzing, the sound of cheers still echoing in our ears. We couldn’t have imagined that McGwire would go on to hit 70 home runs—seventy!—while Sosa finished with 66. All we knew was that we had witnessed something unforgettable.

The next day, Sosa tied Maris's record of 61 home runs. It wasn’t over yet! 

Of course, time adds layers to any story. In the months that followed, revelations about performance-enhancing drugs cast a dark shadow over that summer. But for those of us who lived it, who felt the pulse of every pitch, the magic of ’98 remains untouched. It was real. It mattered.

The '98 season ended with the Padres vs the Yankees in the World Series. But Sammy Sosa had one last curtain call. Among devoted fans of the game, he received roaring applause as he walked to the mound at Yankee Stadium, smiled, touched his heart, blew a kiss, and threw out the first pitch.

And while Barry Bonds of the San Francisco Giants would surpass McGwire in 2001 with 73 home runs, that season felt different—historic, yes, but not joyful. Not shared.

The Summer of ’98 was something else entirely: a shared national moment, an emotional collective gasp, a time when baseball made us feel young again.

. . . As the All-Star Game approaches (July 15, 2025) and new stars emerge, the Dodgers' Shohei Ohtani, the Yankees' Aaron Judge, and the Cubs’ young 2025 All-Star, Pete Crow-Armstrong, baseball fans still chase that feeling, that magical memory. The kind that compels you to load your car with brothers and your dad, take a three-hour drive, and believe—if only for a night—that you see something timeless.

I’m Patrick Ball. Stay curious, ask questions, see you next episode. 

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

From Mailbox to Microphone

In this episode, catching up with Sierra . What happens when you combine a little imagination, modern digital tools, and the willingness to make a glorious, muddy mess? You get our guest’s latest project. I’m Patrick Ball. Welcome back to On the Fly . Today, we are diving into the world of native plants and guerrilla gardening with twelve-year-old creator Sierra. After watching her impressive, self-produced tutorial on how to make ‘Seed Balls,’ I had to know how she did it. It’s incredibly inspiring to watch Sierra evolve from a young artist wielding crayons and stationery into a savvy digital creator. She’s writing scripts, mastering voiceovers, and editing—all to make a positive, green impact on her local community. “She shoots, she scores, and she’s here to tell us all about it.” Please welcome Sierra to On the Fly ! Let’s get into it. Audio interview . . . For more blog posts showcasing Sierra’s talents, see: The Mailbox Surprise . . . and The Summer Surprise I’m Patrick Ball. Sta...

The AI Debate Was Settled in 1954

In this episode, what a 70-year-old sci-fi mystery teaches us. Welcome back to On the Fly. I’ve been looking for a clear way to explain how we should be handling Artificial Intelligence today. I finally found the answer hidden in a book I just finished. The twist? It was written more than seventy years ago. Isaac Asimov's The Caves of Steel was published in 1954, when a computer filled an entire room, consumed enough electricity to dim the neighborhood, and had roughly the computing power of today's microwave. Yet Asimov set his story nearly 3,000 years in the future—a world where humanity lives in sprawling enclosed cities (New York) and depends on advanced technology for nearly every aspect of daily life. The remarkable part isn't how much of the technology he imagined. It's how accurately he predicted us. In Asimov's future, society struggles with the introduction of highly sophisticated humanoid robots powered by "positronic brains." Naturally, a lou...

Resurrecting the '90s Graphite

Let’s face it, there’s a certain danger in reading John Gierach's Trout Bum . His wit, self-deprecation, and sharp, effortless satire are entirely infectious. If you aren't careful, his words will inspire you to drop everything, wade into a freezing river, and try to outsmart a creature with a brain the size of a lentil. In my case, re-reading Gierach recently didn't send me straight to the river. It sent me digging through the dusty, spider-guarded corners of my garage. In the early 1990s, seeking a natural escape from Manhattan's concrete canyons, I decided to learn to cast a fly rod. I bought an Orvis Rocky Mountain —eight-and-a-half feet, three ounces, built for a five-weight line—and had absolutely no idea how to use it. To avoid aimlessly whipping the water like scrambling eggs, I took fly-fishing lessons from Al Cucci, co-author of Hatches , on the Delaware River. With his guidance, I fished renowned waters: the AuSable in New York and Michigan, and New Jersey...

The Birth of a Cubs Legend

In this episode, The 162-Game Exhale — and the Birth of a Cubs Legend There’s a hush in the baseball world on Game 162 — a collective breath drawn in and slowly released. Scoreboards stop flipping. Dugouts empty. For six months, the game has been our steady heartbeat, pulsing from the cherry blossoms of Tokyo in March to the crisp, playoff-charged winds of late September. And now, as the regular season exhales, baseball fans everywhere pause to absorb the story we’ve just lived. For me, that story has been deeply personal. This season unfolded in the rhythms of my daily life. It was the summer soundtrack echoing beneath the constant turmoil of politics and sensational headlines. It was a handful of carefully chosen ballpark pilgrimages stitched together with countless nights in front of MLB.TV. And at the center of it all, for a lifelong Cubs fan like me, it revolved around one name — a young center fielder who turned hope into history: Pete Crow-Armstrong. The 2025 season didn’t begin...