A Long, Long season

4 thoughts on “A Long, Long season”

1. I was afraid to listen because I didn’t want my hopes to be dashed so soon. JK–it IS a long season and I’ll wait until May to write the Rockies off.

   I did keep changing over to the game to see how they were doing, but the circumstances were never good.

2. Baseball season started? Go Rox!

   The Rockies will always be symbolic of the change of relationship I had with my father.

   As a boy, my Dad and I were always distant. I knew he loved me, but we just could not connect. He was busy with his company and I had better things to do – Atari, TV, books, and comic books. All his life he was a jock. I was an uncoordinated nerd. We were two different worlds. Nonetheless, he tried to build a relationship. One of his favorite activities was going to baseball games. During the summers of the late 70s and early 80s Dad would take me to the Denver Bears and later Zephyrs games. I remember bringing books with me to the games. He’d watch, I’d read, and occasionally clap for a homer. Randy Bass was the only player I knew on any of the Denver teams. He did plant a seed, my love for baseball grew out of those games.

   During my youth, through high school and college, that distance between Dad and me was always there. We just could not relate on a deep level. After college I had come to accept that there was an inseparable distance. We were father and son and loved each other, but did not understand one another.

   After six years away, I finally came home to Denver in 1996. It was summer break from grad school, and I had an internship with a Denver firm. One of the things I told my Dad I wanted to do was see a Rockies game. Even a bookworm like me wanted to see the Rockies! Soon after I arrived, he and I went to a game. We drank beer, ate hot dogs, and watched the game. Something strange happened, too. We talked. We talked about life, our plans, our hopes, dreams, ambitions. Everything. It was an amazing night. To this day I can’t tell you who won the game.

   That summer my Dad would get tickets at least once a week (or so it seemed) and we went to games. Great seats, nosebleed seats, in between seats, it didn’t matter. A beer, a hotdog, the Rockies, and conversation. During that summer I got to know more about his life, family, work, hopes, and dreams than I knew about him in my first 20+ years. I shared the same with him. After the games we would walk up and down Blake Street and take in the bars, shoot some pool, throw darts, and always talk.

   Watching Galarraga, Bichette, Castillo and the rest of the Blake Street Bombers do their thing, I came to know my father for the man he is. Without the Rockies games, I’m certain we’d still have that politely distant relationship.

   Now when I see a game, big league or little league I think about my Dad and that wonderful summer. Not too long after the game I give him a call just to tell him I was thinking about him.

   Mike

3. Good Morning from Omaha,

   Just like in the cartoon, its a long season and you can’t quit rooting for your team just because

   they lose there first game.

   The Royals were snowed out in Chicago and are supposed to play two today.

   I remember back in the day, the Kansas City A’s and charlie finley and old Municipal Stadium.

   I remember my DAd taking my brother and me to a game when the A’s played the Indians with

   Rocky Calivito, “don’t knock the rock”.

   when ever the umpire ran out of baseballs the A’s

   had this rabbit that would come out of the ground behind home plate with a basket of baseballs

   and the umpire would walk over and grab three or four baseballs. Then the rabbit would back into the

   ground. No I can’t remember if the A’s won or not but I have very good feelings when I remember the game and the family time at the old ball game.

   To this day I can not watch baseball on television as I keep thinking I have something else I should be doing.

   But when I get the chance to hop in the old car and drive to KC or I am in the Denver area, I get a thrill out of actually going to a game. I don’t care if the Royals or Rockies win, it would be nice, its the atmosphere of the game, the food and the “Frostie Malts”. Its your son thinking why I am here, and explaining the nuances of the game that he thinks I don’t get.

   It is walking away after the game, hand in hand with your wife, down Blake street and exploring the 16th st mall. Baseball is a quiet game, that allows for time together and in the process manufactures some great memories, that last a lifetime.

   I can only hope that my son and daughter will carry with them the memories of our going to ball games and pass it on to their children with the warmth I have in my heart toward my family outings at the old ball game.

   Gene

4. Growing up on the plains of Oklahoma, I was miles from anything. But we had baseball on the radio For those too young to remember the days before cable tv, and 24 hours sports channels, we had the Radio. I can remember many a summer evening listening to Jack Buck and the Cardinals. Warm summer evenings, with nothing to do, but listen to baseball, many times on the back porch as we listened to the Bob Whites call in the distance.

   My Dad talked and told stories (hell, most of em tall tales) about players from his youth, and baseball players when he was a kid. How he played against Mickey Mantle in semi-pro ball. How he met Dizzy Dean, or how Pepper Martin was from the next county over. Or how he played against Harry “the Cat” Bercheen. His dream was to go watch a World Series game. He never made one, in fact I think he only made one major league game in his life.

   When the Rockies made that improbable run in 07, I felt, my father sitting in the stands right beside me (he had past several years ago) I didn’t get to see a WS game either as my tickets were for game 5, I even wanted to get an extra seat, but not give it to anyone, as it would have been my Dad’s seat. (not practical but I REALLY thought about it)

   And like in the movie, Field of Dreams, I’d love to have catch with my dad on some warm twilighted summer evening…just once more.