It’s that time of year again when the air is starting to warm up, the sun is starting to set a little later, and I spend time thinking of my Dad.
That’s because this is the time of year when my father and I used to talk baseball. This is the time of year when we bonded, over opening day.
I remember many opening days watching the game with my dad, talking mess, and talking about the old days when we thought we could play! We talked about when my father coached me as a little girl, and was extra tough on me so no one would think he was showing any favoritism. We talked about his days as a pitcher, and we talked about life and our dreams.
Opening day always reminds me of the first game he ever took me to at Dodger Stadium. I was like 11 years old. I remember walking into that stadium for that game with my glove on. We didn’t have a lot of money, so our seats were a buck each, which meant they were in the nosebleed.
There was no way a ball was going to ever reach us, but I kept that glove on my hand just in case. The only time I took it off was when he bought me a dodger dog! But I kept that glove close by just in case I had to make a quick grab!
I lost my father 16 years ago, it was way to early. So, this time of year I get a little misty eyed, because the start of baseball season and my Dad go hand in hand.
So Dad, this weekend, I will go dig my glove out of the garage again, sit it down near my seat, grab a beer, watch the game and think of you, nearby, talking mess, and talking about life!
Lets play Ball!
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