It’s jersey week at SB Nation, which brings back a flood of memories, though not all of them are from the major leagues. My strongest jersey memory isn’t about cheering in the stands or even being close to a professional game. It’s about something much more… underwhelming.
While I’m not a big jersey wearer now, if I were to sport an Angels jersey, it would have to be a Dave Spiwack jersey from The Naked Gun. For me, it represents the quintessential era of Angels uniforms, not to mention it’s an homage to arguably the funniest baseball scene ever filmed.
However, my personal history with wearing an Angels jersey, or rather, an Angels shirt, goes way back to Little League. Growing up in Palm Springs meant we got all the Los Angeles TV channels. The Angels and Dodgers were our local teams, and both had radio broadcasts in our area. Palm Springs even served as the part-time spring training home for the Angels back then, and their Class-A affiliate team played right in town. Palm Springs was definitely Angels territory.
I can’t recall the exact year, but my single season playing for the “Angels” in Little League was, in reality, Angels in name only. Our uniforms didn’t feature the word “Angels” anywhere. Seriously, take a look:
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“Jerseys” is probably too strong a word; they were basically t-shirts, which is understandable for kids. No need for anything fancy. But some kind of baseball team identification would have been appreciated. I even wore a baseball shirt underneath, just to feel a bit more like a real player.
You can probably see the forced smile in that “Angels” jersey, trying to hide my disappointment. But I couldn’t completely hide it here, probably a year earlier. I don’t even remember what “team” this was supposed to be because, again, OUR JERSEYS HAD NO TEAM NAMES.
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That’s the face of pure dejection. All I wanted was to feel like I was part of a real team, to have that connection to something bigger, to feel a little bit like a major leaguer. I even got flip-up sunglasses one year, trying to enhance the illusion. I knew my baseball skills weren’t going to take me to the pros, and a future in professional baseball wasn’t in the cards. Little League was my chance to live out that dream, but it was tough with such generic uniforms.
I remember being envious of my cousin, who not only got to wear officially licensed Major League Uniforms, but he even had his own baseball card! And his last name isn’t Rockefeller or anything like that. And then there’s Blake Harris, pictured here during his Little League Angels days. Look how happy he looks, knowing he’s representing a team with major league ties.
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Eventually, I did get my wish for a major league team name for two years in senior league. But it turned out to be a bit of a monkey’s paw situation, because that name was the hated Giants. Ugh. Fortunately, our coach was pretty cool and let us wear whatever hat we wanted during games. Even then, our uniforms didn’t have official major league logos, just simple script lettering. And, of course, I had to make my own baseball card, using an X-Acto knife on a 1990 Topps Candy Maldonado card.
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This photo was actually taken at our Little League field, which was right behind Angel Stadium, where the Angels’ Class-A team played and where major league spring training took place. You know, the place where players wore real major league uniforms.
What are your favorite jerseys, whether Angels, Little League, or any other? Share your stories in the comments below!
