When I was a kid, I loved baseball, and there was no internet which means I had to wait until our afternoon paper arrived to see the box scores. When the paper landed on our porch it made a wallop, and I’d sprint through the house to grab it, and would spread it out on the carpet to read (unless my mom was home, as she hated anything being on the carpet). What I really miss is the smell – news ink had a certain scent (and would leave black ink on the reader’s hands if they weren’t careful), and it isn’t so much the smell that I miss as the memories it evokes of laying on the floor in the summer to read my hero’s box scores. I read the sports first, then the comics, then Dear Abbey, then if there was time started looking for interesting stories in the front section. But what I really lived was the box scores and how my heroes did. Because the season’s stats were published only once per week, I had a sheet of notebook paper where I kept track of Jim Rice’s average and Home runs. I loved stats so could spend an hour reading the numbers on the page, and liked keeping tabs of them.