My dad was a high school phenom. He was an amazing schoolboy pitcher, as they called them in those days, one of those guys who struck out 14 in 7 inning games. Regularly. He was scouted and signed, this is back in the 40s, and ended up in the Braves organization. The Boston Braves, that is.
I mention all this because the linked story about the Braves in Boston is an excellent introduction to baseball’s local appeal in Beantown (and its amazingly ragtag and robust local history there). And an expression of how important that locality is, even if a team can up and move. And then move again.