“But on the Jewish New Year when Hank Greenberg came to bat and made two home runs off pitcher Rhodes, they cheered like mad for that.”  — Edgar Guest, Detroit Free Press (1934)

(Greenberg received rabbinical permission to play in the World Series on Rosh Hashanah. He famously however, wouldn’t play on Yom Kippur, receiving a standing ovation entering Shul.)

MLB stands for Major League Baseball. It’s as familiar as the NFL and NBA. For me however, it’s Major League B’Omer because the advent of spring augers the imminent arrival of Pesach (starting the Omer) and a new baseball season. (Lag B’Omer signifies we’re a month into the season.)

Which do young Jewish boys look forward to more? I know what my answer was growing up.

Venerating both religions is inculcated early on.

My first recess at my yeshiva grade school, I was surrounded by my new classmates demanding my answer to the critical question: What team do I root for? The Giants, Yankees, or, God forbid, the Dodgers?

Growing up in Washington Heights, in the 50s, you had to choose one.

The Giants played in the Polo Grounds, a few blocks from my apartment. The Yankees were also walking distance, but across the river in the Bronx. The Dodgers required a $.15 subway token to Brooklyn (and a thick skin to return to Manhattan.)

I was a deerhead (Herschkopf means deerhead) in the headlights.

I couldn’t admit that I hadn’t heard of any of them. I assumed there was an objective answer like being a Cohen, Levi, Yisroel, or your blood-type. Surely (as in Hogwarts), I had been assigned to one of them.

I could only think of one way to determine it. I would ask my mother. She had all the answers.

Unfortunately, she, a new immigrant, a self-described greenhorn, didn’t have a clue either. She checked my........

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