My Baseball Heart

Some background regarding my baseball heart, not that you asked, just thought I would share.

I grew up with 4 brothers and 4 sisters, I am the middle child. As kids, back in the day, we had no internet, limited t.v. options, so simple things, such as kick the can, tag and baseball were our fave activities. Summers, for us girls, were filled with softball games with dad as our coach. I can hear him still “just meet the ball no need to kill it.” His philosophy was base runners, the more the merrier.
Watching the games on TV back then was not the priority – at least to the grownups that had control of said watching.  As time went on baseball crept more into the TV lineup, though it was the Giants or the Padres that got the most attention. Mom, you see, is from San Diego and though she’s not a huge fan, her parents would watch and her sister is a HUGE Padres fan. I, on the other hand, favored the A’s. Dennis Eckersley is still my BF .
Enter Mark – my husband- into the picture. He grew up with Ernie Harwell on the transistor, and time spent at Michigan and Trumbull following his hometown team , the Tigers. When Mark moved to California he aligned with the A’s. Time now spent at the Coliseum is a shared activity, and for us spring training is like Christmas.
Speed to 1993 – baseball season ends, the winter appears bleak, then an announcement. Just as Mark thought he had nothing to look forward too, come spring he would have a new little Tiger to root with. Yep our first-born was on the way! 1994 saw baseball on strike and times were tough for a baseball fanatic. I think it went on strike so the birth  of our child would not be missed due to “2 outs in the bottom of the 9th- I’ll be right back I have to check the score”  With no baseball for distraction, our beautiful son got all the attention on the day of his birth.
Young new son was immediately indoctrinated to the life of a baseball fanatic. Dad proclaimed he wanted to take him to see the A’s play, their park is but an hour and a half away. I, on the other hand, insisted that the first ever game our son should see MUST be at Michigan and Trumbull. You see, I have been to a few ballparks in my time, but I have found that there is absolutely nothing like sitting in right field, just inside the foul pole, at Michigan and Trumbull, and see that field, hear those sounds, smell that smell and hear the sound of the ball as it hits the bat. Nowhere else was that sound so sweet.
Yes, the first game for both our sons was at Michigan and Trumbull.

With opening day being tomorrow, the sounds of baseball shall be a constant in our home once again.  Each day a new game, another statistic, a chance to follow our favorite players.  I may be from California and my local favorite team is the A’s, in my heart and soul I am a Tiger fan.  Not that you asked- but just thought I would share

Advertisements

Trade Rumors

My husband loves baseball. I mean REALLY loves baseball.  He’s happy that I love baseball too.  We watch and analyze, cheer and lament.  We talk about  our teams and players like they are our family.  Families are like baseball teams, at least mine is as big as one.

I think any good team starts with its management.  For families, of course , that would be the parents.  In my family the “team” started 60 years ago. Young and full of hope and potential, they said “I do”.  I often wonder how much of their future was planned verses life just happens?  Did they actually PLAN to have 9 kids?

Each player -kid- on the team has a role, a purpose.  The oldest/veteran breaks in the management, paves the way for the future players.  As others are introduced, the dynamics change.  Trying to adjust to the new lineup, so to speak, roles are defined. Each person has their worth.  What good is it if everyone is a pitcher? Who would catch for you? Who would be your outfield backing you up?   Each one  has a job on the team and together they work toward a common goal.

As with any team/family,  there comes a time to shake things up, move on to another team.  In a family the kids grow up, maybe get married,  start their own team.  Sometimes the kids leave on less than  amicable terms and it’s a mutual parting of the ways.  Their time and purpose completed for that team, off to the next step. There are times too, when as much as one would like to stay in that comfort zone ,it is time to take that leap of faith and go for it.

Twenty years ago I started my own team.  Excited for the future, unsure of what would come next.  Am I any less a part of the original team?  Was my time there dismissed when I moved on? Not at all.  I had my role on that team; moms favorite, though she will say the same about all her kids, and truly mean it about each one. We don’t always get it right,  some times we strike out.  But, as in baseball, one inning doesn’t make the whole game.  Sure, one bad inning can devastate THAT game,  there are 161 games to follow.

I wouldn’t trade my team for anything in the world.  Hopefully I learned something from the best managers out there, and can pass that on to my young players.  I do know one thing- When you step up to the plate, life may throw you a curve.  Stand in there, take a swing, you never know- you may just hit it out of the park.