THE TDA STORY

IT STRARTED AS A DARE. Summer of '89 and I was visiting my lifelong friend and fellow baseball fanatic, Randy Rosenblatt in L.A. I showed him some of the new baseball "'zines," small, irregularly published newsletters. Desktop publishing had hit the hidebound world of baseball, but the early results were not especially promising. I kept grumbling to Rand that I could do better. Finally, his patience worn as thin as Will Clark's hairline, he yelped, "Great. You don't like this stuff, you can do better, do it already. I'm tired of hearing about it."

Uh oh. Old Man Pride nibbling at my ego again. Now, to save face, I had to deliver. I knew nothing about putting a magazine together, although I had published poetry and short stories. I knew I wanted something fresh. Baseball from a different angle. The Diamond Angle. Now I had motive and a title. I had a manual typewriter at home in Hawaii, but in California, nothing. I asked my mom if I could use her IBM Selectric. After explaining what I was doing, she said, "Why don't you just take it? I don't use it, and I have one at the shop if I need to type something." Good old mom.

Went to the local stationary store and bought typing paper, White Out, a cheap little folder and some index cards. Don't know why I bought the index cards, just one of those notions we gather from movies and books. I even thought about buying a fedora, but it was hot in L.A. in August, and that money was better spent on advertising, postage and Xeroxing.

I NEVER DID USE THOSE INDEX CARDS, but after typing up some preliminary ideas, I got down to business on the airplane on the way home. There was a good race between the A's, Angels and K.C. in the A.L. West, so I started with that, some Yogisms, a proto "Stat's A Fact" about top players of years ending in "9", by decade. Ultimately, most of the 6-page rookie issue was about that ALW race, but by the time I deplaned in Honolulu I at least had an issue under way.

Since we as yet had no table upstairs big enough for the Selectric, I had to sit on the bed, holding each page of rough draft between my toes to keep the breeze from blowing it away, while sitting stretched out on the bed, typing away. When I finished, I took the initial issue to town, Xeroxed a couple dozen copies, mailed them to anyone I could think of, and took out a business license.

EARLY FEEDBACK WAS POSITIVE, if sparse--enough encouragement to keep going. The A's won that ALW race, and eventually the "Earthquake Series" with the Giants, both of which were covered in issues 2 and 3. There were articles on teenagers in the majors (Griffey Jr. had just arrived), reviews of the races in all divisions, card columns, Yogi's retirement (as a coach), the Cy Young award, our first profile (Dave Stewart), some trivia. We had grown from 6 to 12 pages, now had about 30 subscribers, and word was spreading like, uh, a pack of matches.

I contacted the writers in Sports Collectors Digest who put their home address with their by-line. I contacted Larry Lester, then of the Negro Leagues Museum. Ken Haag of SCD subscribed, and eventually started doing those wonderful covers and his curmudgeonly articles. Over the years, Larry has kept us current about the Negro Leagues, and connected us to his partners, Dick Clark and Lloyd Johnson. My sister introduced some of her friends to TDA, including Jay Lucas, then publicist for the Dodgers. At last, between Lester, Haag and Lucas, we had some graphics. A local Molokai man, Benito Pascua, did our first hand drawn covers, and I signed up a few Molokai subscribers, and eventually, several from the other islands. To raise desperately needed cash, I offered lifetime subscriptions for $150. By now I'm losing money on these people, but God bless 'em, they kept us going in those early years.

THINGS CONTINUED THAT WAY, with slow, steady growth into the second year, when the next major event occurred. I was back in L.A. to help my mom after an operation. To push TDA I did everything from contacting Jim Murray to handing out copies at Dodgers and Angels' games. One morning I read a letter to the Times' sports editor from a familiar name: Bob Brigham. He had been my social studies teacher in high school and was a church friend of my by-then deceased father, so I figured what the heck? I called him up and we got together. We attended a ball game, and he subscribed. Soon he was sending me short pieces and letters to the editor. He quickly moved up the TDA organizational ladder, first as a columnist, then as Assistant Editor. His trivia quizzes became popular items.

The years passed. The "Stars In Their Time Hall of Fame" became our most popular feature, Black History Month brought Negro League articles, and we even had a few advertisers.

NICK THE PRINTER. During Year Four the tentacles of the Molokai Ranch had grabbed the local newspaper and its state of the art Xerox, the only such machine open to the public on our tiny island. I needed another printer. My buddy Nick Vetter was doing his own 'zinc'zine, Low 'n Inside, plus printing posters and other things, so he was able to get good prices in Minneapolis. Nick is one of many friends--including several dozen of you reading this--that I have made over the years through the magazine, but have "met" solely by phone, letter or e-mail, a phenomenon that never ceases to amaze me. Most TDA issues from the past 5 or 6 years have been printed via Nick the Printer. That probably makes me the only publisher who sees the finished product after the subscribers do, since it takes the mail about three more days to get here than it does to you mainland readers.

We picked up more subscribers and more contributors. T.S. O'Connell, SCD's excellent artist, started sending me a package of his drawings every year or so. Steve Cummings, a SABR member from Seattle, sent a few columns on his beloved Reds and Mariners, and then on his vast collection of memorabilia, and, voile, a regular "Memorabilia Column" was born. Gene Carney, baseball poet and feature writer, has sent us everything from team reviews to book reviews, and although he doesn't have his own column, he his work pops up somewhere in every issue. More recently we added the witty, observant Sally Palmer and her "Sally's Alley" column. And, going full circle, Steven Rosenblatt, MD, older brother of Randy, the guy who made the dare that got the whole thing rolling, joined us with his "Doctor On Deck" column. Mickey, the middle brother was a major help in the early years, and has done yearly reviews of his team, the Orioles.

By 1994 we came in second in design in the National Federation of Sports Publications' first contest. Over the next two years we would also receive two seconds in editing, several best of class articles, and in the second year, the best small baseball magazine overall.

ALL OF THAT DEVELOPED, however, after my mom moved to Hawaii for good in 1993. No longer able to fly back and forth to the condo she had bought in 1991, she decided to stay. So in 1991 I was at least able to set up the Selectric on her table and plug in. The days of pigpens and bananas were over. She was very supportive of TDA, even proof reading issues for me. But by 1994 she had had enough of my grumbling through deadlines, holding tiny by-lines with tweezers and attaching them with glue sticks, having to white out or re-type entire sections of articles, the monstrous amount of time it took me to piece the thing together. So, for an early birthday/ Christmas present, she bought TDA a computer. I don't think that old Selectric would have won any layout and design awards, but the Hewlett Packard 386 opened up an entirely new world for TDA.

I could lay out articles with the Publish It program, rather than scissors and glue sticks. I could file articles away, and with my extra time, I was soon publishing articles in SCD, Old Tyme Baseball News, A Red Sox Journal, Behind The Bombers, Bleacher Banter, and Ragtime. In 1997, I became a regular columnist for OTBN and International Baseball Rundown, both due to the networks TDA has become a part of.

ONE GIANT STEP FORWARD FDR FOR TDA. Now that we were looking a little more spiffy, and had mentions in Baseball Weekly and The SABR Bulletin I felt emboldened to go after more advertising (mildly successful), people from SABR and former ballplayers (very successful.) The biggest and boldest move was the decision to award three or four well known baseball writers each year with a free subscription in honor of their contributions to baseball writing (and my ever-growing library), with a thinly veiled hint that they might be called on for an occasional bit of advice in their field of expertise, and, if they felt so inclined, a short article. The next issue of TDAQ will have the winners of our fourth annual Writer's Award. Of the 11 Awards we have given out so far, all but one have graciously accepted and thanked us, and I think it's safe to say I have become friends with all 10 of them, particularly close to a few of them.

Which ties in with another realm the computer opened up, e-mail, and a web site. Both venues have sent new subscribers, samplers, people interested in particular back issues and the editor of this issue, David Marasco. I don't remember quite how it happened, but one day there was a message from David on the screen. As with Bob Brigham, he quickly scampered across the organizational chart, rising from commentator to dual columnist, to Assistant Editor. He was a perfect balance to Bob, who is a peppy senior citizen, and the Flow, born right after WWII. David is in his mid-20's, so now we had an editor for each generation, which pretty closely matches the demographics of our readership. Recently we have been joined by teenage columnists Bradley Podair and Adam Rosenblatt (who co-authors "Doctor on Deck" with his father). We also have to mention last summer's "Women In Baseball" issue, which was edited by my teenaged daughter, Rose, and introduced our readers to Pepper Davis, Salty Ferguson and the long and little known history of the contributions women have made.

THE LOST GENERATION. It hasn't all been growth and success, however. The '94 Strike cost us many readers, fed up with the hype, the bratty attitude of certain players, the astronomical salaries, the idiocy of most of the owners; you know the litany. We survived '94 by covering baseball's past, and continually hammering on the good things about baseball. We made it, but let's just say we are high on the list of those who were relieved when the games resumed. It was one of the many deciding factors in our reduction to four issues per year; for the past two years we have been a quarterly.

The strike and the flight from baseball of many fans weren't the only losses in recent years. One of those elite who received a copy of the first issue, my partner Benjamin Thomas died, as did our great artist Ken Haag. And, only six days after it was announced that he made the Hall of Fame, long-time TDA subscriber Leon Day, with whom I had the pleasure of speaking several times, also died.

In the last few years, however, we have also had the privilege of two new artists gracing our pages, Thomas Salomon, noted national "Collage of the Greats" artist, and John Anderson, who draws in the old newspaper style, something those of us over 40 miss. Although no one can replace Ken Haag, these gents have softened the loss and strengthened the magazine.

The TDA family has been remarkably cohesive. We lost one columnist in a dispute, otherwise every single columnist we have had still writes for us, or is at least still a subscriber. Virtually all our articles are written by subscribers, with the occasional piece from our sister 'zines. We have had well over a 50% renewal rate every year, which I am told is excellent for any publication, especially for one that expands by word of mouth and goodwill.

THAT VERY GOODWILL, as old-fashioned and cornball as it may seem, is what has kept us going. Baseball has brought together, in TDA, several hundred fans, writers, and players, people of different ethnic, occupational and generational backgrounds. People who, outside of baseball and TDA, probably have very little in common. But the love of the game and the understanding that on the pages of TDA one can express his/her opinion, share his knowledge, ask her questions, contribute or just enjoy and learn, bonds us in a simpatico and ever-expanding family.