I officially lost a shirt today. I was hoping I had left it back at my mom’s place, or that my sister had taken it for whatever reason, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. It’s just gone now, most likely misplaced in a bag given to the Salvation Army at some point, or inadvertently tossed into the garbage somewhere. I bought it some eight years ago, from a trip to the Cabazon Outlets far east of Los Angeles, during one of those 80-mile drives you take for no reason other than because you’re 16 and have your license. It was a blue Anaheim Angels shirt. The old logo at the top, overlaying a drawn perspective of the field from the catcher’s mask. The picture was generic; I remember they had a Dodgers version of the same thing. I think it cost me twenty dollars, but I can’t be sure.
I used to wear that shirt all the time – most importantly, to every ballgame I attended those first few years. It was just a small handful. The team changed their logo and color scheme to the current red, but I held on. For a little while, at least. The last time I remember wearing that shirt was October 13th, 2002. That was Game 5 of the ALCS. As usual, it made the trip out with me. But outside the stadium, I succumbed. I picked out a bright Angels vs. Twins shirt ($25 or $30), put it on over the faded blue one, and joined the sea of red as we sent the team into the World Series that day. The blue shirt receded into the deep nether regions of the closet, never to emerge again.