Considering adoption

Night before last, I was struggling to stay awake—way past my normal bedtime—to watch the outcome of the St. Louis Cardinals and Milwaukee Brewers baseball game. The National Pennant and a trip to the World Series was on the line for the Cardinals, if they could remain ahead and take the NLCS at 4 to 2 games. It was getting tougher as every pitch seemed to take the game deeper into the night. Both teams were scoring runs and pitching changes were coming every inning. Man! I didn’t ,think I was agonna make it to the end.

My wife, Patsy, decided to knuckle under at the end of the 5^th inning with the Cards up by a score of 11 to 6. She went upstairs to bed to read for a while and doze off when the occasion seemed right. I, on the other hand, felt that the occasion was right to watch the game until the end—why start if you’re not gonna finish?

Both teams seemed determined, as they should have been, to score as many runs as they could and stretch the end out as far as possible into the Milwaukee evening. I don’t begrudge them that—that’s as it should be.

No more runs but still pitching changes came over the next half inning. After singing God Bless America and taking his 7^th inning stretch, Little Gus ambled his way upstairs. He likes to be on his pallet at 10 PM sharp—if he’s up much later, he is impossible to deal with the next day.

I really didn’t like it when Gus deserted, but Otis was still downstairs with me and looked to be in it for the long haul. He understands the game pretty good—well, he understands the going to get the ball part, but isn’t very obliging with the handing it over after the fact part. But, he was at least still on the same level of the house with me.

The last of the 7^th came and went. The 8^th started and Otis was still awake and watching intently. The Cardinals added another run, making it now 12 to 6—I thought at he time that would keep Otis enthused. I did see him nod a couple of time in the bottom of the 8^th, but there he stayed.

I’m not sure if Oti heard something from the second floor or not, but after the commercial break and just as the Cardinal 9^th started, he lopped off and disappeared upstairs—not to return that evening.

The loss of my last compadre really ticked me off. But, there I sat—six outs away from the World Series. If the Cards could just stop scoring; maybe it could be over quick.

An out here and an out there and the Cards were down to the bottom of the 9^th and still leading 12 to 6. Just three more outs—but still closing in on 11 PM. It was becoming harder and harder to remain awake and fully cognizant of what was taking place. I was trying hard to do so even as alone as I felt—I just had to sit through three more outs. Every pitch seemed to drag on and on.

Then quicker than you can say: “All alone am I, ever since your goodbye,” it was over. I looked around for somebody to celebrate with and again realized that “All alone am I, ever since your goodbye.” What a downer!

I watched just the slightest bit of the jumping around on the field, turned the TV off and made my own way upstairs.

Did anyone welcome me into the bedroom. Patsy and Little Gus did not even move a muscle. Little Otis raised up onto his front feet and stared just the slightest. I told him to lay back down and he quickly did—usually he gives me some teenager-like guff, but not this time—he just looked the part of the tired puppy.

What disappoints me is that I was left behind, deserted—all by myself—to watch my favorite team in all of professional sports to win their way into the World Series all by myself. That’s right deserted—left all by myself.

 

 Little Gus

(2 & ½ years, 37 lbs, almost-male )

Loves: Me, neck rubs and children (especially those his height)

Believes: Squirrels can be caught

Terrified of: rides in a vehicle

 

 Little Otis

(just barely over 1 year, 40 lbs, almost-male)

Loves: Me, the day and the night

Believes: the world is his toy

Terrified of: Garbage trucks

It is for this reason alone that I am strongly considering putting up for adoption two of the best friends I have. I can’t count Patsy in this offer because she says I can’t. But if I could, it would be my three best friends. Any takers?

59 Summers later, Finally a World Series game

While walking out of the Ballpark in Arlington the other night after the Giants ended the World Series’ hopes of the Rangers I was thinking back to the first time I ever saw a Major League ballgame. That was 59 summers ago at the old Sportsman’ Park in St. Louis, Missouri. My family was living in Taylorville, Illinois at the time and had traveled to St. Louis with another family assigned to the same seismograph crew as my dad. We made two trips that summer to see the Cards play. I was just a kid but I can still see it just as clear in my mind today as the day I was there.



The first game we attended was between the Cardinals and the Dodgers – the Brooklyn Dodgers – of the 1951 version. I had never seen so many people in my life as there were there that day. The crowds were terrifying. As we were making our way to our seats from the ticket stand and the entrance we were held up by security – my family at the very front, my brother hand in hand – while the Dodgers came out of their dressing room and made their way to the tunnel to their dugout. My brother, only thirteen months younger, and I had not seen very many black people (colored people as they were called at the time) in our short lives – even after having lived in Louisiana and Mississippi up until that time. As the Dodgers passed by my Dad pointed out certain players to us as he recognized them by their jersey numbers: “That’s Pee Wee Reese. That’s Gil Hodges. There’s Duke Snyder, Jackie Robinson and Roy Campanella.” We just stood in awe of getting to see players we had only heard of over the radio; this was three years before we were to see any of them on TV – we hadn’t even seen or heard of TV at that time. Soon we were released to go down the aisle.

Having traveled not very far we encountered a family of colored folk heading to their seats also. The mother had three small children about the same size as my brother and myself in tow. My brother in his always inimitable fashion looked up at my mother and said in a somewhat elevated voice: “Look mama. There goes a bunch of little Jackie Robinsons!” Needless to say, there was some immediate shushing taking place even though my brother nor I understood at the time what he had done wrong.


We were Cardinal fans and I remain true to them to this day. My favorite player was always Stan Musial – there was no one better than Stan the Man.


You see the Cardinals were the most western team geographically in either league and therefore the team most familiar to those of us living in the Louisiana, Mississippi, Texas, Arkansas and Oklahoma areas and listening to radio stations broadcasts. It was our team, my dad’s and I, and that’s the way I liked it.

That day I had the opportunity to see in action seven players and managers who would eventually make it into the Baseball Hall of Fame: St. Louis- Stan Musial (6), Red Schoendienst (2), and Enos Slaughter (9); Brooklyn- Jackie Robinson (42), Roy Campanella (39), Pee Wee Reese (1), and Duke Snyder (4).

Later that same summer we made another trip to see the New York Giants play the Cards. That was also a treat as I got the chance to see Willie Mays in his rookie year and several other Giants that were of note during that time and later on also: Leo Durocher (manager), Al Dark, Monte Irvin, Sal Maglie, Eddie Stanky, Bobby Thompson. Three of the Giants have been inducted into the Hall of Fame: Willie Mays (24), Monte Irvin (20) and manager (and former player for the Dodgers) Leo Durocher (2).

That year the Cardinals finished third behind the Dodgers who lost in a three game playoff to the Giants with Bobby Thompson’s walk off home run. You remember Bobby Thompson don’t you – he hit the shot herd ‘round the world and “The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant!”

I checked the Hall of Fame website and validated the numbers. I currently have seen live 71 players, coaches, or umpires that are members of the Baseball Hall of Fame. There is still time to increase that number as I continue to attend ball games – who knows where the final count will end up?

My son and I at Cooperstown and Stan's locker.

Having said that, I really didn’t see any player that might eventually match a hall of fame type career at the Ballpark in the two games I saw over the weekend. Tim Lincecum for the Giants and Cliff Lee for the Rangers are building their reputation but as yet do not come close. Maybe over time; we have to wait. But as far as the position players go, nobody stuck out. Josh Hamilton might have the goods, but he accomplished only a solo home run and the team was already out in front with a lead that was never overcome. He has to do more.

I did enjoy every minute of both games. I wish the Rangers had done better, but they were there and there were 28 teams that weren’t.

Lamenting a chance at a World Series Game

Remembering 10 Oct 80 when I was sitting in the right field bleachers for the ALCS, the Yankees leading 2 -1 when George Brett hit a 3 run home run into the short porch, also in right, knocking the Yankee’s outta the World Series and my best chance to ever see a World Series game.

I remember it well. There we are the ball off Brett’s bat headed just to the left of us, the cops watching it travel also and the short little guy climbing the steps of our section chanting his wares “Yankee Youints.”

Some real goods names playing in that game and making a great memory. For the Yankees there was: Reggie Jackson, Goose Gossage, Rick Cerone, Tommy John, Ron Guidry, Lou Pineilla, Graig Nettles, and Willie Randolph. For the Royals there was: George Brett, Frank White, Oscar Gamble, Dan Quisenberry, Willie Akins, Darell Porter, and Willie Wilson.

I need to look for that score-book and see the details.

Well, if the Rangers can just keep hitting like they have the last two games, that Yankee Stadium chance will soon be history. I will get another and even better chance – I have the tickets on the way.