Having been raised in Brooklyn’s ancient Fiatbush neighborhood during the grinding hard times of the 1930s provides a perspective on Alan Schwarz’s dismissal of Ebbets Field as the most overrated ballpark. Rather than regarding it as depressing or inadequate, we fans found the place full of joyous diversion at a time when families had little else to stir the blood. Sure, the Dodgers were often inept. But no matter. We accepted this as the price of human frailty. We frequented the bleachers at 55 cents a head, and when Dad came along upgraded to the grandstand for $1.10. There were Sunday doubleheaders, Cokes at a nickel, hot dogs (with sauerkraut) at a dime. What sheer delight! Who among us noticed that Ebbets was flawed structurally? A gloomy, grimy place with cramped facilities for ballplayers? Even if true, no matter. We loved Ebbets Field—and grieved when it was put to the wrecking ball. Though it is gone forever, the memory of those happy, youthful days in the sun is indelible. And in a quiet, reflective, pulse-pausing instant, we oldsters can still hear the cheers and the groans. Ebbets Field overrated? Never by those of us who were there!