ATLANTA — One of the earliest memories of my sports affinity was visiting my paternal grandfather’s house. It was the late 1970s, and in his colonial-style home in southwest Detroit his den was one of the centerpieces of the house.
He sat in a leather reclining lounge chair with a side table and the sweet smell of tobacco from his pipe spread throughout the den, as much as the aroma of my grandmother’s cakes captured the kitchen.
My grandfather didn’t talk much, especially when he was watching the Atlanta Braves on TV. At the time, there were barely Detroit Tigers games on local TV, so I never really understood the notion of watching an out-of-town sports team.