As a child growing up in the 1930s, Vin Scully brought a glass of milk, a plate of biscuits and a pillow into the living room of the family’s walk-up apartment in the Washington Heights area of Manhattan. He would crawl under a massive four-legged radio console, lay his head down and let the sound of a baseball game wash over him, like water flowing out of a shower head.
“When I was old enough to really express myself, I knew it was the radio that really made me long for baseball,” Scully said. “The simple radio and baseball, that was my springboard.”