April Winchell

My dad has been on my mind lately.

It's a combination of things I guess. There's the holiday tomorrow, and in just a few days, it will be the one year anniversary of his death.

This morning, in a weird coincidence, I was given an amazing collection of photographs; mostly publicity stills from various televsion and stage appearances my father made early in his career. I had only seen a few of them before, and many of them were just a revelation to me. I can't believe he was ever that young.

There are plenty of shots with famous people, like Lucy, Rocky Marciano, Angela Lansbury, Peter Lorre, Veronica Lake, and in a particularly odd grouping, Jerry Mahoney, Martin Landau and Barbara Bain. I have no explanation for that one, but I also can offer no justification for the shirtless bodybuilding photos taken well in his 70's. Did I mention the snakeskin briefs he's wearing in those? Because that made me want to wash my eyes with bleach.

The real find came in the form of some shots taken on the set of what appeared to be a variety show with a baseball theme. I was thrilled by those, because Jerry Mahoney is wearing a Red Sox uniform, which afforded me the opportunity to tell my friend Gina in Boston that only dummies like the Sox.

Now, normally I wouldn't even know to make a joke like that. My dad might be wearing a uniform in that picture, but we never watched a ball game in our house. My parents had no interest in sports, so us kids never developed an appreciation for it.

But two things have happened in the last year that changed all that.

First, I fell in love with a Yankees fan. That means ball games are on my TV for the first time ever. And I like it.

I like that it's summer, and the breeze comes in through the sliding glass door while we sit and watch. I like that the dogs sit on the couch with us, and Mac will sometimes chew an old Yankees cap that John gave her. I like that I know that Jorge Posada scored a walk off home run against the Texas Rangers. I even like hearing John call Derek Jeter a pussy when he gets mad.

And second, my dear friend Gina, who I have been corresponding with for a while now, has become one of the people I love the most in the world. And she's a Red Sox fan.

Gina and John have also become good friends. Neither one of them can really believe they are fraternizing with the enemy, but their love of the game transcends their petty grievances. And they are both extremely knowledgable about the sport. During every Sox and Yankees match, I hear the sound of furious text messages being sent across the miles.

So today, when I sent one of these photos to Gina so I could make with the Red Sox for dummies joke, I mentioned that John thought he saw Mickey Mantle in the group behind my dad. Gina agreed. When I sent her two other shots, she responded by saying that there were many Hall of Famers in the group. She even figured out what show the photos were from in just a few minutes!

It turns out the shots are from a 1957 NBC special called "Saturday Color Carnival: Salute to Baseball" (you can read all the details here). The show was hosted by Gene Kelly, and brought together stars from show business and baseball to celebrate the opening of the 1957 baseball season.

It turns out that it was Mickey Mantle in that shot. He was a 1956 MVP, and was featured in the show. Lots of great players were. So I asked Gina to tell me who she saw in the crowd, and she came through.

Now, there are a few missing here, so if you happen to know who the mystery men are, let me know.

1. Pee Wee Reese
2. ?
3. Johnny Antonelli
4. George Kell
5. Ted Williams
6. ?
7. Herb Score
8. Robin Roberts
9. Eddie Yost
10. Bob Friend
11. Stan Musial
12. Billy Pierce
13. Ernie Banks
14. Harvey Kuenn
15. Don Newcombe
16. Eddie Matthews

Group shot 2

Group shot 3

By the way, the line up in this last photo, from left to right:

Ed Gardener
Frankie Fontaine
Robert Alda
Tony Bennett
Janis Paige
Jerry Mahoney and friend
Lu Anne Simms
Bill Hayes
Bob Strauss

So there you have it. A little something for summer, for baseball, for Father's Day.

Have a good Sunday, and try to forget that it isn't really Wing coming to Santa Monica next week; it's some dirty hippie named "Ed Wing", who does horse shit new age music that all of us could live long and happy lives without.