Where have you gone, Ernie Banks?

Friday was our national day of red, white and blue.

So why not play two?

The Angels played the Blue Jays at Angel Stadium, the skies were blue, the temperature was 86, the stands were full and the smell of hot dogs drifted about.

It was the Fourth of July. The parking lot was full of people in lawn chairs, relaxing and imbibing. Inside, they unfurled a huge American flag in the outfield before the game. A jet flew overhead. It was perfect.

You know what Ernie Banks would have said.

A soldier named Davey Lind threw out the ceremonial first pitch, and it was caught by another soldier, former Marine reserve and current Angels right-hander Justin Speier. Lind's pitch was as high and hard as you'll get from somebody who lost both legs in combat in Iraq last year.

Angels Manager Mike Scioscia, heart as big as stomach, made sure that Lind's moment was more than perfunctory. He took him along to home plate for the pregame exchange of the lineup cards. Soon, Lind's list of new friends had expanded to new Toronto Manager Cito Gaston and four umpires.

Everything was nice. Why can't we do this twice?

They once had something in baseball that has gone the way of the spitball and metal spikes. It was called a doubleheader. No, not these concoctions they throw together to make up rainouts. Real doubleheaders.

If you are 45 or older and a baseball fan, you remember. Two games, one day, same price. Not one in the morning and one later at night. Two games, with maybe 20 minutes between. Six or seven hours of entertainment. A family day. Fathers and sons with past and future dreams of being on the field, not sitting beside it.

"I remember, when I was maybe 10 or 11, standing right behind the Phillies' dugout after the first game," says Scioscia, who is now 49. "My dad asked if I wanted to get something to eat and I said no. I wanted to watch the pitchers, up close, when they warmed up for the second game."

For reasons no greater than that, Major League Baseball used to regularly schedule doubleheaders, especially on holidays such as the Fourth of July. No more. Not for more than 30 years.

Doubleheaders died from the perceived need for full revenue from all 81 home games, the resistance of the players' union and the resistance of television to try to hold an audience that, these days, has video-game attention span and ants-in-its-pants focus.

Still, it is fun to remember the fun.